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The third episode of the final series of From The North favourite Peaky Fookin' Blinders was the best of the year so far. Some bloke in the Gruniad Morning Starsays so, dear blog reader, so it must be true. He's not wrong though (remember, even a broken clock is right twice a day) and - not entirely unrelated to that fact - it was the first Ada-centric episode in nearly whole two series of the BBC's popular period gangster drama. With Tommy off in the mountains with the gypsies in an - ultimately fruitless - search for a magical cure for Ruby's consumption and Arthur facing down a terrifyingly calm Stephen Graham in a Liverpool warehouse (in one of the great scenes in the drama's history) it was left to Sophie Rundle to demonstrate, as she's been denied the opportunity to for much too long, what a stunning actress she is. And, what a great character Ada has always been. Whether it was taking charge - at Tommy's request - of Shelby Co Ltd, having an intense, sexually-charged scene with Isaac Jesus or, in the episode's finest few moments, holding her own in Diana Mitford and Baronet Oswald Ernald Mosley's drawing room, Ada was utterly brilliant in everything she did and said and touched and, specific to the Isaac sequence, sprayed. As yer Middle Class hippy Communist chap at the Gruniad noted in relation to Ada and Ms Mitford: 'Barely masking their mutual antipathy beneath a veneer of politeness, the two women swapped delicious barbs about the causes of poverty, Egyptian antiquities and fascist Mitford's repulsive plans for "the great cleansing." She clearly loved to shock, boasting about being a pornography-using, amphetamine-pepped bisexual. Ada was pleasingly unbothered.'
The cast and crew of From The North favourite Vera are back in the region and filming has started on series twelve of the popular crime drama in Tyneside and Northumberland. While fans of the ITV show are still waiting - somewhat impatiently - to find out when they can watch the last two episodes of series eleven, after the new run was paused after the first two episodes had been broadcast to make way for Good Karma Hospital and Trigger Point, Brenda Blethyn did recently announce that she and her Vera co-stars would be back in the region soon to shoot new episodes. And, on Monday, the author responsible for giving the world Vera Stanhope, Ann Cleeves, announced on Twitter that production was beginning on series twelve.
Wor Geet Canny Robson Green has warned fans to expect an 'incredibly dark' series of Grantchester, when the drama returns this week. Grantchester has been pulling in millions of viewers on ITV for eight years, having made its debut in 2014. Wor Get Canny Robson stars as Geordie Keating, with Tom Brittney as his sleuthing partner in crime-solving, Reverend William Davenport. On Instagram on Thursday, Wor Geet Robson informed fans that 'things get incredibly dark' in the new episodes. Next to a photo of him and his co-star, he wrote: 'The Unholy Pleasures of Grantchester are back! Tune in tomorrow 9pm ITV. Likeable, charming and incredibly dark at times, this drama is one of those rare hybrids where levity and humour come from the most challenging situations.'
The Doctor Who Appreciation Society has announcedThe Terrance Dicks Award For Writers. The award is, of course, in memory of the much-loved and highly-influential scriptwriter, editor and author who died in 2019. Terrance captured the imagination of a generation of children and young adults - very much including this blogger - many of whom are now at the forefront of modern television and publishing. As Mark Gatiss said when Terrance's death was announced: '[It is] very hard to express what Terrance Dicks meant to a whole generation. A brilliant TV professional, a funny and generous soul. Most of all, though, an inspirational writer who took so many of us on unforgettable journeys into space and time.' The award will recognise those whose writing across screen, audio, books and magazines have 'contributed to and enhanced' the worlds of Doctor Who. The inaugural award, which is in the bequest of the Society Executive, will be presented by Elsa Dicks, Terrance's widow, at the sold out Capitol convention being staged at the Crowne Plaza, London-Gatwick across the weekend of 2-3 April. Tony Jordan, the organiser of the event - and Facebook fiend of this blogger - said: 'Terrance was adored by fans across the world as well as being a great friend of the Society. In 2010 he received the Society's Outstanding Contribution to Doctor Who Award and it's lovely to now have an Award in his venerable name. Never was anyone more deserving.'
There has been but one question on Unforgotten fans' minds since From The North favourite Nicola Walker's Cassie Stuart unexpectedly died at the end of series - who would be the new Detective Chief Inspector? Now we know, as ITV has announced that Sinéad Keenan will be joining the cast of the popular crime drama as the new partner of Sunny Khan (From The North favourite Sanjeev Bhaskar). Keenan will play Jessica James with series five of Unforgotten starting with 'an unforeseen and devastating introduction' to Jessica's family life before her first day in her new job.
The first trailer for The Lord Thy God Steven Moffat (OBE)'s forthcoming adaptation of The Time Traveller's Wife have been released by HBO and can be viewed here. The series - starring Theo James and Rose Leslie - will premiere 'in the Spring of 2022.'
From The North favourite Star Trek: Discovery ended its fourth series this week with another fine episode, Coming Home. If you wish to be extremely spoilerised, dear blog reader, there's a rather good review of the episode here. For what it's worth, this blogger thought it was great.
On Tuesday, this blogger received an unexpected download of the debut CD by his good fiend Jefferson Hart's band, Secret Monkey Weekend, All The Time In The World. A real family affair, SMW features Jeff - formerly of The Hanks, Jeff Hart & The Ruins, Brown Mountain Lights et cetera - and his adoptive daughters, Ella Brown Hart and Lila Brown Hart. 'Jeff's guitar and songwriting skill made starting a group with his adopted daughters ... a natural - he's been a driving force in Americana music in North Carolina since the 1980s. When he married Laura in 2015, he also began giving her two young daughters instrument lessons, giving rise to a brand-new rock band. Lila follows in her late father Matt Brown's path on drums and vocals and Ella holds down the electric bass as her rhythm section partner,' according Peter Holsapple's charmingly friendly sleevenotes. Guests like Holsapple himself, Jeffrey Dean Foster (guitar), Paul Messinger (harmonica) and Tim Smith (keyboards) join in the fun. R.E.M/The Smitihereens main-man Don Dixon produced the CD and, Jeff tells this blogger, 'we recorded it at Let's Active's Mitch Easter's studio. I co-wrote two songs with The dB's drummer Will Rigby. Ella and Lila wrote 'Fascist Blood Baby' about The Master from season one of Buffy The Vampire Slayer. I co-wrote two with our youngest daughter and we both sing lead.' One of the songs, 'Half Moons' actually featured on Jeff debut CD, Jeff Hart: The Singles 1961 - 1990. 'I wrote it thirteen years before Ella was even born - she's nineteen now,' says Jeff. 'They had done it so well live for a number of years that we recorded it as a bonus. The girls were so efficient in the studio on day one, cutting nine of the eleven songs, that we were able to get that down and spend the last two days doing harmonies and my extra guitar and guest keyboards.' Back to Peter Holsapple: 'Secret Monkey Weekend songs are smart, simple and summery, with great grooves like 'Honey Num' that feel cozy and familiar, or maybe a tune like 'Maybelle' that moves your feet before you know it.' This blogger's own favourites from a first playing are the Bo Diddley-groove of 'Candy Station', the twangy surf-guitar dance tune 'Do The Secret Monkey' and the CD's closer 'Laura Jo' a gorgeous Byrds/Beatleseque jangly-guitar love song for Jeff's missus. The CD features all of the standard Jeff Hart trademarks with country, rock and pop influences (all three in the case of the excellent 'Greater Mind To Walk Away'). And the performances of the girls, especially given their studio inexperience and age (Lila is just fourteen but plays like someone who has absorbed her stepfather's love of Ringo, Keith Moon and Clem Burke to the full) is astonishing. 'Live, they cut a confident profile, locked together musically like a jigsaw puzzle. They've played every gig they can, from school carnivals in North Carolina to pubs in England. Along the way, they've written some very cool tunes,' notes Peter Holsapple and, as he's the man who wrote 'New Gun In Town', 'Living A Lie and 'Never Before & Never Again', let's face it, he should know. There's a really good article about Secret Monkey Weekend by David Menconi which can be found at the Walter Magazine website whilst the band's own website - which includes several live You Tube clips to give you a flavour of their oeuvre - is here. Tell 'em this blogger sent you!
Jeff has been a dear fiend of this blogger for nearly twenty years, of course and let's be brutally honest about it, this blogger is always an easy touch when he gets a freebie. But All The Time In The World is a record that Keith Telly Topping is delighted to recommend to anyone with a love of jangle-pop and a hint of garageband punk. Also, of course, acquiring this record keeps up this blogger's record as a Jeff Hart completest - we're a small, but select, group of people with glorious taste. Just, sayin'.
Meanwhile, dear blog reader, here is today's Thought For The Day. And, it's a good one.
A new Channel Four documentary set out to expose the horrific, sick culture of the former ITV series, The Jeremy Kyle Show, cancelled and shovelled, swiftly, into the gutter along with all the other turds in shame and ignominy after one of its participants tragically committed suicide. In an article in the Gruniad Morning Star, the documentary's executive producer revealed Kyle's show's 'awful mistreatment of guests and staff alike' describing it as 'a catalogue of exploitation.' Another Gruniadarticle by Dorothy Byrne, the former head of news and current events at Channel Four, was entitled The Channel Four Exposé Of The Jeremy Kyle Show Made Me Ashamed Of The TV Profession and claimed that 'inexperienced young production staff seem to have been under such pressure that they lost their moral compass.' Of course, one tends to expect this sort of hand-wringing, 'won't somebody think of the children' over-the-top Middle Class hippy Communist bollocks from the Gruniad. But, it is interesting that much of the rest of the UK press have followed suit, including several organs of the media which never seemed to have a particular problem with The Odious Kyle and his Odious Show when it was on-air. Take, for example, the Daily Scum Mail's somewhat atypical 'ban this sick filth'-style pieceViewers Demand Jeremy Kyle Is SACKED From TalkRadio Job As He Is Seen Near His Three Million Pound Windsor Home For The First Time Since Channel Four Documentary Aired Harrowing Accounts Of Guests Who Claim He 'Lied' To Them. One, genuinely, has to stand up and salute the genius way in which the Scum Mail manage to shoehorn the cost of someone's home into every single story they print. Similarly, the Daily Mirra's Where Jeremy Kyle Is Now? New Job, 'Abandoned' By Famous Pals & 'Scapegoat' Claimarticle is scarcely the sort of thing one would expect from a newspaper which once seemed to find both Kyle's scum bullying antics and the pitiful dregs of underclass society that the show managed to attract, quite amusing. Most shocking - and, indeed, stunning - of all, is the Sun, a ... well, one hesitates to describe the odious Murdoch rag as 'a newspaper' but, whatever, a media thing which, in the days immediately after Steve Dymond's untimely death was, seemingly, happy to produce a series of horrifying articles all of which appeared designed to smear his name and criticise ITV's decision to cancel The Jeremy Kyle Show. Like this one, for example. And this one. And this one. None of which, obviously, had anything whatsoever to do with the fact that Sun Bingo was the sponsor of The Jeremy Kyle Show. Their recent articleHarsh Reality: Jeremy Kyle Show Counsellor Graham Stanier Breaks His Silence To Defend The Show After Channel Four Doc should, probably, win some sort of award for the most wicked example of 'who guv? Us, guv? No, guv, we never approved of any of that' horseshit imaginable. But then, this is the Sun we're talking about, dear blog reader, nothing should really surprise us.
The owner of Facebook - which, of course, this blogger has only recently rejoined after an, enforced, sabbatical period - and Instagram (that's another Interweb type thing, apparently) will reportedly allow users in some countries to call for violence against the man with the short straw, Vladimir Putin and also Russian soldiers. So, it is now entirely legal for someone to, for example, say 'I think that Vladimir Putin - who has got a really small penis - is a stinking rotter and could do with having a right good, hard, eye-watering kick in the knackers. Till he bubbles and squeals and blares and begs - begs - for mercy. Anyone fancy doing it?'Totally legal, apparently. Meta - the company which owns Facebook - says that it has 'temporarily made allowances' for some violent speech, like 'death to the Russian invaders,' which would, under normal - non-genocide-type - circumstances, break its rules on hate-speech. A bit like, if you will, that period during the Second World War when 'Hitler Has Only Got One Ball (Göring Has Two, But Very Small)'achieved widespread popularity in Great Britain and even got played on the BBC once or twice. Göring, of course, in addition to being a genocidal Nazi slimebag and a junkie was also a big, fat worthless fucker. As many important historians have said. Probably. And, Himmler had something similar. It isa alleged. However, Meta has been at pains to stress it won't permit calls for violence against Russian civilians. In response, Russia immediately called on the US to stop the social media giant's 'extremist activities.' Seemingly, the Russians were unaware that democratic governments have no right to 'stop' media companies (social or otherwise) from doing and saying pretty much whatever they wish. Even if they'd like to. The announcement came after Reuters news agency said that it had 'seen internal e-mails' outlining the policy shift. 'In light of the ongoing invasion of Ukraine, we made a temporary exception for those affected by the war, to express violent sentiments toward invading armed forces,' a Meta spokesperson told the BBC. They then added, 'by the way, did you know that Putin's stick of Blackpool Rock is only a half-incher.' Probably. Under the amended policy, users in countries including Russia, Ukraine and Poland will also be able to call for the deaths of Putin and Belarusian President Lukashenko. The girth of Mister Lukashenko's whanger is not, at this time, known. But, it's not unreasonable to make an informed guess about that. Russia announced last week that it was blocking Facebook, citing twenty six cases of 'discrimination' against Russian media by Facebook since October 2020. And one case of a dictator with a really titchy prick getting all shirty about criticism. Whilst access to the site had already been restricted in Russia, it was not completely unavailable. Unlike this blogger, who couldn't get into the bugger for eight sodding monthsdue to hackerisation. It was Goddamn annoying, dear blog reader. But, it's all right now.
A woman holding an anti-war sign ran on to the set of a Russian evening news programme on the state-controlled Channel 1 on Monday evening in a - now infamous - moment of broadcasting disobedience. It was quite a sight. Good for her. SAnyway, the sign, clearly visible behind the - really sour-faced and strict-looking presenter, read: 'No war, stop the war, don't believe the propaganda, they are lying to you here.' No shit? The woman, Marina Ovsyannikova, was an editor at the channel. Russian TV news is tightly controlled by The Kremlin and - usually - reflects only the Russian version of events in Ukraine (and, in Russia for that matter). Ovsyannikova was immediately taken into police custody and, one imagined, her future would involve a lengthy spell in some salt mine in Siberia. Tough break, kid, particular as you were simply telling the truth. Mind you, if you'd had an extra line on your sign referring to the miniscule length and breadth of Mister Putin's dong, it could've been a lot worse. Her voice could be heard during the broadcast saying, 'No to war! Stop the war!' before the programme director cut to a recorded report. One imagines he's probably in deep shit, too, for letting her get that far. The Kremlin denounced her act of protest as 'hooliganism.' Ukrainian President Volodymyr Zelensky thanked Ovsyannikova, appealing to everyone working for what he calls 'Russia's propaganda system' to resign - and, you can just imagine Zelensky doing all that in his Paddington voice (complete with jolly hard stare). Any journalist working in what he calls 'the fourth branch of power' risks sanctions and an international tribunal for 'justifying war crimes,' once the war is over, he warned. Some of Putin's biggest cheerleaders on state-run TV have already faced international sanctions, including Vladimir Solovyov who presents a talk show on Russia's biggest channel Rossiya-1 and Margarita Simonyan who has accused anyone who claims they are 'ashamed' of being Russian as 'not really being Russian.' Before the protest, which happened live on the nightly news programme, Ovsyannikova had recorded an online video in which she called events in Ukraine 'a crime' and said that she was 'ashamed' to work for what she called Kremlin propaganda. 'I'm ashamed that I allowed myself to tell lies from the television screen. Ashamed that I allowed Russians to be turned into zombies,' she explained. She called on the Russian people to protest against the war, saying that only they could 'stop the madness.' From the moment Ovsyannikova's identity became known, she received dozens of comments on her Facebook page in Ukrainian, Russian and English, thanking her for her actions. In the end, to the surprise of pretty much everyone - including, one suspects, Vladimir Putin and his undersized member - Marina got off with a relatively small fine after several hours of interrogated by the FSB. Presumably, she will also be receiving a painful session getting her bare ass twanked over the knee of that sour-faced and strict-looking presenter she interrupted. That's the way they do thing in Russia, dear blog reader. Tough on hooliganism, tough on the causes of hooliganism. And big on Presidents with a weeny todger. It is alleged.
The BBC's widely-respected World Affairs Editor, John Simpson, believes Putin will search for a way to save face. But, that's going to be somewhat difficult given how diminutive his shaft of delight actually is. It's little wonder, dear blog reader, that Lyudmila Aleksandrovna Ocheretnaya could stand his lack-of-length any longer and filed for divorce in 2014, presumably seeking someone with a bit more spunk to them.
Okay, dear blog reader, so whom amongst us is going to be brave enough to inform The Butcher Of Grozny that, not only does he bear an uncanny resemblance to Toby Jones's House Elf in the Harry Potter movies but, also, news of the fact that you need a telescope powerful enough to observe Uranus to catch the tiniest glimpse of his slimline porker has leaked out to the wider world? This blogger will do it but, you know, only from the safe distance of three thousand miles and via an Interweb page which is, probably, banned in Ze Dictatorship. This blogger is brave man in some small ways, dear blog reader, but he has no wish to find a couple of FSB thugs turning up on the doorstep of The Stately Telly Topping Manor Plague House armed with the sort of smiles that sharks give just before they bite you in two. And some novichok. Probably.
'Oh yes, there is is. God, it really is a titchy tiddler, isn't it? It's no wonder, with a dong that small, he wants to compensate by, you know, blowing up Mariupol and murdering children and pregnant women. What a sod.'
Russia Faces Brain Drain As Thousands Flee Abroad according to a piece on the BBC News website. At least those within the Russian Intelligencia who have fled Ze Motherland will be able to read about their new refugee status once they get beyond the borders since, in Russia itself, the Beeb is extremely banned. Probably, because they were among the first to broadcast the shocking - and stunning - news that Vladimir Putin's plonker is on the less-than-large side.
A GB News host has claimed that it's hard to know 'who the good guys are' when it comes to the Russian/Ukraine war and biohazards. In a long and rambling speech broadcast on the shitscum right-wing news channel (and, watched by about four people), host Mark Steyn (no, me neither) claimed - with no supporting evidence other than the accusations of a bloke with half-inch knob - that there are US biolabs in Ukraine which are 'insecure' as Russia invades. Steyn also claimed that Americans 'fund Ukrainian biolabs' in the country where biowarfare agents are researched and called Ukraine the 'most corrupt country in Europe.'
Joe Biden has denounced Small-Penis'd Dictator and Psychotic Lunatic Vladimir Putin as 'a war criminal,' delivering his sharpest rebuke yet of the Russian leader just hours after the Ukrainian president pleaded with Congress to provide more aid to his country. 'I think he is a war criminal,' Biden said of Putin on Wednesday. The president's comment marked a distinct rhetorical shift for The White House, which had deflected previous questions about whether Putin should be considered a war criminal for the Russian military's attacks on Ukrainian civilians. 'There is a process and we have stood up a process internally - an internal team - to assess and look at and evaluate evidence of what we’re seeing happen on the ground,' The White House press secretary, Jen Psaki, said earlier this month. Of course, the chances of The Butcher Of Grozny being captured and dragged, in handcuffs, to The Hague, to actually answer for his - alleged - war crimes is virtually nil. So, in reality, all of this is empty gesture posturing. Doesn't mean it isn't valid and shouldn't be said, of course, but don't expect to see Putin - and his small willy - standing in a dock saying 'nyet' to the charges any time soon.
The conflict in Ukraine is - geographically - a long way from the UK but it has meant that prices for the ingredients of one of the nation's favourite dishes are, reportedly, soaring. The costs of white fish, potatoes, peas and the energy to cook them with have all sky-rocketed in recent weeks. One chip shop claims they've seen 'hundreds' of shops which haven't been able to cope with price increases. If something isn't done to help 'we're going to see a lot of your local fish and chips shops gone,' Richard Ord of Colmans Fish and Chips added in an interview with the BBC. Horrorshow. Just one more thing, then, to add to the list of sick war crimes committed by Putin (and his teeny Mister Floppy).
A rabbi who helped disgraced Russian billionaire Roman Abramovich obtain his Portuguese citizenship has been told he cannot leave Portugal and must 'present himself to authorities' when required. Daniel Litvak was detained on Thursday as part of an investigation into how Abramovich's citizenship was granted. The naturalisation process of several Jewish people is being extremely investigated. On Friday, Abramovich was sanctioned by the UK in response to Russia's invasion of Ukraine and had his assets very frozen. Painful at the best of times but, particularly, when you're in the processes of desperately trying to offload a football club into which you've poured billions over the last two decades. Abramovich, is one of seven oligarchs to be hit with fresh sanctions, including asset freezes and travel bans. The Premier League has also disqualified him as a director of Moscow Chelski Frozen Assets. Abramovich was granted Portuguese citizenship in April 2021 under a law which offered naturalisation to descendants of Sephardic Jews, who were expelled from the Iberian peninsula more than four hundred years ago during The Spanish Inquisition (which, of course, was unexpected). Applicants for Portuguese citizenship via this route are assessed by 'experts' at one of Portugal's Jewish communities in either Lisbon or Porto. Litvak is the rabbi for Porto (in Northern Portugal) and was responsible for assessing Abramovich's application and approving it. Litvak was detained by authorities as he was preparing to travel to Israel. He was asked to hand over his passport and will have to periodically present himself to authorities. Portugal's Judicial Police and public prosecutor said on Friday that there were 'suspicions' of money laundering, corruption, fraud and falsification of documents in the process of granting citizenship to descendants of Sephardic Jews and that the investigation was not, solely, in relation to Abramovich's application.
Meanwhile, in the day immediately after a BBC Panorama investigation allegedly uncovered 'new evidence' about the - allegedly - corrupt deals which made Roman Abramovich's (extremely none-alleged) fortune, Abramovich was spotted at a VIP lounge at an airport in Israel, seemingly about to flee the gaff in his private jet. A photograph obtained by Reuters showed the oligarch with the frozen assets sitting, looking rather disconsolate amd sorry for himself, in the airport's VIP lounge with a face mask pulled down over his chin. The news agency said that it could not independently verify if he boarded the flight to Turkey. One alleged 'source' allegedly told Reuters that the plane used by Abramovich flew into Ben Gurion late on Sunday from Moscow. The flight-tracking website Radarbox said the aircraft, which has the tail number LX-RAY, took off on Monday for Istanbul. Israeli restrictions imposed on private jets since the invasion of Ukraine meant it could not remain on the ground for more than twenty four hours. An - alleged - British transport ministry 'source' told Reuters on Friday that the UK was 'searching for helicopters and jets' belonging to the oligarchs named in last week's sanctions since, unlike several European countries, they haven't be able to find any yachts. It was later reported - by Sky News if not anyone more reliable - that Abramovich was 'thought to have landed in Moscow.' Having, seemingly, pissed off back to the only place on the planet where what money he has left which hasn't been frozen can, actually, buy him anything.
This blogger can't be certain of the exact date, dear blog reader - it was twenty five years ago, after all - but it would have been either 14, 15 or 16 March 1997 that a videotape (if you're under thirty, look it up on Google) rocked up at Stately Telly Topping Manor (it wasn't a Plague House in those happy, far-off days); it had been sent by the marvellously wonderful and lovely Professor Kathryn Sullivan and contained the most recent episode of The X-Files to be broadcast in the US (which would've been, checking on Wikipedia, Momento Mori - definitely not one of the better ones, admittedly). This was because Paul Cornell, Martin Day and this blogger were busy at the time writing the second edition of X-Treme Possibilities for Virgin Publishing. Kathy had nobly volunteered to supply fresh episodes for us which wouldn't be shown in the UK for several weeks, if not months (she didn't know what she was letting herself in for over the next decade!) She often used to fill up the tapes with some other US TV shows which had recently been broadcast, so there might be an episode of The Simpsons or Deep Space Nine, for example. On this particular tape was something called Welcome To The Hellmouth. That tape, needless to say, changed this blogger's life - not only did he subsequently get an entire career out of writing pretty much the same book - Slayer - over and over and over again(!) but also, for years afterwards this blogger dined out at conventions and in interviews and articles on the story that he was, if not actually the first then, certainly, one of the first people in the UK to be exposed to Buffy The Vampire Slayer, this being a mere five or six days after its US debut. Given the plethora of Buffy At Twenty Five retrospectives which have been appearing in both the genre media and newspapers over the last week, Keith Telly Topping could, at this point, ask 'where have the last twenty five years gone?' dear blog reader. But, actually, truth be told, he knows exactly where they've gone and barely a day goes by where he don't think 'has it only been twenty five years? It seems so much longer.' Anyway, as someone far wiser than this blogger once said, 'You're like a textbook with arms. I know this.'
And, speaking of long-term From The North favourites, Our Fiends In The North is - rightly - regarded as one of the greatest British TV dramas ever made and launched the careers of its main cast including Christopher Eccleston, Daniel Craig and Mark Strong. Although, it should be remembered that some Middle Class hippy Communists of no importance at the Gruniad Morning Star were openly sneering about the first couple of episodes until they realised that everyone else thought it was great and rapidly fell into line. It has now been adapted for the radio and brought up to date with a new episode set in 2020. The original series was a landmark of British television, weaving together the fortunes of four friends from Newcastle over nine episodes, each set in a different year between 1964 and 1995. You knew that, right? When the show was broadcast in 1996, it made stars of Eccleston as the idealistic, defiantly Socialist Nicky, Gina McKee as the pragmatic, strong-willed Mary, Strong as the upwardly mobile Tosker and Daniel Craig as the downtrodden Geordie. 'I hadn't looked at it for years and years,'says its writer, the playwright Peter Flannery, who has now revisited it to adapt it for Radio 4. 'I thought it stood up pretty well. The writing was good, the production was exceptionally good and the strength of the acting has kept it young.' The show's characters were buffeted by state-of-the-nation storylines which painted a bleak picture of a country with rotten political and policing machines. Much was inspired by real-life events, such as the infamous 1970s bribery scandal involving local politicians in the North-East, a housing developer and the Home Secretary and the 1990s Westminster cash-for-questions affair. Not much has changed, Flannery believes. 'The major themes of sleaze and corruption in local and national government have never gone away,' he suggests. 'I think the spread of pornography and violence towards women have got worse. And the thing I still find the most worrying and I did at the time, is the awful state that the Metropolitan Police is in.' Flannery often described Our Fiends In The North as 'a posh soap opera with something to say.' A decent description, actually - although the soundtrack was infinitely better than the average episode of Corrie or Emmerdale. But, he has not written the new episode himself. 'I'd finished what I had to say.' Instead, the tenth and final; episode, which takes the story to 2020, has been written by Manchester-born author Adam Usden. At thirty three, Usden was too young to appreciate the series when it first went out, but now recognises it as 'a stone-cold masterpiece.'Also a decent description. He says: 'The scope and the scale of it is stunning. Not just the timeframe, but that the breadth of the issues that [Flannery] deals with. At the same time, it is incredibly intimate. Its heart is the focus on these hugely compelling, hugely personal stories. It's like a photograph - you've somehow got the background and the foreground in focus at the same time.' Writing in the Gruniad Morning Star - which, remember, was not-so-positive about the drama on initial broadcast but now, of course, loves it is mostest, baby - when the show turned twenty five last year, Stuart Heritage agreed it had stood the test of time. 'Boy, does it hold up: as drama, as a piece of commentary, as a time capsule, as a showcase for young talent.' He added: 'At times, watching a show about how bad things were in the last third of the Twentieth-Century from the perspective of 2021 make you want to shout at the characters about how good they have it.' The original episodes took place against the backdrop of a different social or political event, like general erections and the 1984 miners' strike. In his 2020 book The Age Of Static: How TV Explains Modern Britain, Phil Harrison wrote that 'the quartet felt like living, breathing representatives of us, as we grappled with the dilemmas of the era.' The show 'remains a resonant work to this day,' he added, 'partly because as it concluded the sense lingered that the generation of baby-boomers at its heart hadn't quite finished their upheavals. Two decades later - at the EU referendum in June 2016, to be precise - this suspicion would prove to be well-founded. The referendum would probably have split the four friends down the middle.' It would, indeed, not be much of a stretch to imagine Nicky and Mary arguing with Tosker over Brexit in the 2020 episode, with Geordie oblivious that there had even been a referendum in the first place, but probably feeling the effects more than the other three put together. 'Those debates certainly do creep into it,' Usden says. 'One of the main story threads of this episode follows Tosker's grandson, who was in the last scene of the of the TV series [as a child]. He has a factory that does shipping parts and has very much been affected by the red tape is coming in.' Like Flannery, Usden has tried to balance the personal and the political. One of the other big themes of the original was about how parents affect - in other words, as Philip Larkin noted, fuck up - their kids lives. 'I wanted to build on this sense of how the previous generation had shaped and impacted the people who had come after them in ways that neither generation always fully understood,' Usden says. 'It was almost the perfect story to be able to pick up twenty five years later and to be able to take those core characters of Tosker, Mary, Nicky and Geordie and show how they had shaped the next generation, sometimes intentionally and lots of times in ways that perhaps they didn't intend.' Flannery says he 'never really thought about' what might have happened to his four fiends after the series ended. 'When I was asked at the time what happened to Geordie, I think my stock reply was, "He'll probably be dead in a doorway within a couple of months." He was a busted flush. He's got nothing to sustain him. He's lost all his friends again. But I hadn't really thought that through.' If they are still alive, the foursome would be in their seventies by 2020. But Usden is reluctant to reveal what has become of them in his new episode. 'All of them at the very least are referenced in some way, and throughout, because it's about their influence and their impact on those that have come after them,' he says. 'I do absolutely pick up on characters and story threads from the original series, but hopefully in some surprising ways and perhaps not always the characters or the stories you might expect.' The first episode of the radio series - set in 1964 with all of the wonderful optimism of the era's youth - can be heard of BBC iPlayerhere with further episodes going out each Thursday. You really owe it to yourselves, dear blog reader, to, if you will, get with the programme. Fiends are for life not just for nine weeks in 1996 ending with 'Don't Look Back In Anger'.
'What would your occupation be if you had followed your childhood dreams?' asked one of this blogger's Facebook fiends idly and was probably not expecting the answer which they got from this blogger: 'The Lunar Module Commander of Apollo 32, or the tambourine player in Slade. Whilst, simultaneously, spending Saturday afternoon's playing on the left-wing for Newcastle United and Saturday evening's starring as The Doctor.' Interesting career choices for someone that ended up in the Civil Service, you might say. It would've been a tightly-packed schedule, admittedly, dear blog reader. But, the pay would've probably been quite good ...
Another very odd question which cropped up on this blogger's Facebook timeline - for obscure reasons which totally baffles this blogger - was 'what scares you most when you're on the golf course?' To which, of course, this blogger replied: 'The inherently ludicrous nature of existence.'
Keith Telly Topping must admit, he'd quite forgotten how much he missed certain aspects of Facebook until he got back on it; profundity and sheer daftness mixing equally, being one of the best aspects of the platform. For example, earlier this week, this blogger engaged in a - to be honest, completely pointless but also fascinating and impeccably polite - discussion with his excellent fiend Christian Wheeldon about what the best of the first three Tears For Fears LPs was (it's Songs From The Big Chair if anyone's wondering - and, that's definitive). You don't get that via e-mail.
The Hurting is, of course, The Fearies''The Pink Floyd in 1967 if they'd been a synthpop band' record. Musically, it's Kraftwerk/OMD but, lyrically and conceptually, half the songs are about childhood trauma ('Suffer The Children', 'Memories Fade', 'Pale Shelter', 'The Hurting') and the other half are about depression in all its forms ('Start Of The Breakdown', 'Mad World', 'The Prisoner', 'Watch Me Bleed'). So one half is pure Syd Barrett and the other half is pure Roger Waters. Throw in a bit of John Lennon/Plastic Ono Band and you have a recipe for a nice, depressing, evening in with a bottle of wine and a curry. This blogger thinks it's great. With Songs, it's odd, but it's an LP which has sort of been a bit forgotten, despite it being one of the biggest selling records of the 1980s (particularly in America where it really seemed to find a niche). It's detractors claim that it's merely 'a big fuck-off Stadium Pop LP', which, to be fair, it is. It's also, probably, the best example of 'a big fuck-off Stadium Pop LP' ever made. By anyone. This blogger also likes the third one with all of its Beatles references; Roland 'getting in touch with his inner-Gandalf' as this blogger's fiend Danny Blythe noted. There was a man who'd overdosed on Magical Mystery Tour in the six months leading up to that record and thought 'yeah, we could do that.' A very under-rated band, The Fearies. Plus, there's that great story about Roland and his wife going out for a meal one night in London and getting seated right next to Joe Strummer and his wife; after a few minutes Joe leans over and says 'oi, Tears For Fears, you owe me a fiver!''How so?' asks Roland to which Joe replies: 'Everybody Wants To Rule The World', 'Charlie Don't Surf', second verse, first line!''Oh yeah' says Roland, gets his wallet out and hands over a fiver. After that, apparently, they got on like a house on fire.
Yer actual Sir Rockin' Rod The Mod Stewart has filmed himself fixing potholes on a road near his home and complaining about the state of it. Videos on the singer's Instagram account showed him shovelling gravel in Harlow, claiming 'no-one can be bothered to do it.' In one, he said: 'People are bashing their cars up. The other day, there was an ambulance with a burst tyre. My Ferrari can't go through here at all.' Oh, the inherent tragedy of it all. An Essex County Council cabinet member promised to 'investigate the situation' though the council later issued a warning to others not to follow Sir Rockin' Rod The Mod's example because, if you will, they don't want anyone to change a thing. In the post, Sir Rockin' Rod The Mod is seen dressed in a tracksuit and high-vis vest - and, he wore it well, let it be noted - while singing and shovelling. 'The First Hole Is The Deepest', presumably. He said: 'This is the state of the road near where I live in Harlow and it's been like this for ages. So me and the boys thought we would come and do it ourselves.' They boys were unavailable for comment since Sir Rockin' Rod The Mod was somewhat hogging the camera, just like used to when he was in The Faces.
Now, dear blog reader, here is a picture of a fourteen year old Sigourney Weaver at The Hollywood Bowl concert of The Be-Atles (a popular beat combo of the 1960s, you might've heard of them) in 1965. And, seemingly, diggin' it the mostest, baby.
Well, dear blog reader, at least this one appears to be factually accurate if nothing else.
Decades before Peter Jackson directed his movie adaptations of The Lord Of The Rings, JRR Tolkien was involved with the first ever dramatisation of his trilogy, but its significance was not realised in the 1950s and the BBC's audio recordings are believed to have been destroyed. Now an Oxford academic has delved into the BBC archives and discovered the original scripts for the two series of twelve radio episodes broadcast on The Third Programme in 1955 and 1956, to the excitement of fellow scholars. Tolkien's fantasy masterpiece was dramatised by producer Terence Tiller, whose scribbled markings on the manuscript no doubt reflect his detailed discussions with the author in correspondence and meetings. Among the typed pages is a sheet in Tolkien's hand, with red crossings-out, showing his own reworking of a scene. Stuart Lee, a reader in the English faculty at Oxford University, said: 'They said the scripts had been lost, but they have survived - the only professional dramatisation of The Lord Of The Rings made during [Tolkien's] lifetime. It was not seen as important by the BBC then. It shows how reception of the book has changed - minor interest in 1955-56, now a global phenomenon, with Amazon reportedly investing more than one billion dollars in the latest series.' Lee's discovery will feature in a forthcoming book, The Great Tales Never End: Essays In Memory Of Christopher Tolkien, in which academics pay tribute to the scholarship of Tolkien's devoted son and literary executor, who died in 2020.
Shortly after the last From The North bloggerisationism update early on Saturday, this blogger went all domestic in The Stately Telly Topping Manor Plague House kitchen. For a kick-off, the fortnightly washing of yer actual Keith Telly Topping's smalls was totally sorted.
Then, it was an omelette, bacon and toast (not in-shot) for us brecky at The Stately Telly Topping Manor Plague House. Who really deserved that, dear blog readers? Why, yer actual Keith Telly Topping - who, remember, remains 'not very well' at the moment - really deserved that. No question.
Then, there was Sunday's battered King Prawn with chips for us dinner at The Stately Telly Topping Manor Plague House. This blogger really deserved that as well. And you should know, dear blog reader, that one was particularly geet lush.
And, on Tuesday, it was an old standard, Curry King Prawn with Boiled Rice. Needless to say, you can bet your bottom that this blogger really deserved that. Just for a change, instead of ordering his Chinese food from Tam's (which was closed that night, anyway) or The Royal Sky (which wasn't), this blogger went for something from The Happy Chef in Waalsend. Which, of course, as many may know is the takeaway directly below the flat in which The Odious Sting was born (it's next to Waalsend Metro Station if you're ever in the area, have a low tolerance threshold for lute-stylings and want to take it out on a building).
So, if this blogger happens to die as a result of eating this, dear blog reader, you all know whom to blame and where he can be found (either in New York or his four hundred acre estate in Tuscany. But, never Waalsend, obviously. That would be ridiculous).
'So, I said, "What about Breakfast At Morrisons?" And, she said, "I don't I remember that film!"' Or something like that, anyway. This blogger didn't bother with any egg this time around but the sausages were great. As, indeed, was the tea. The mushroom? Meh. Keith Telly Topping was doing the Metro crossword whilst having his brecky at Morrisons and, usually it's no problem, as indeed, was so on that day. Until he got to twenty nine down, 'Tea Urn, seven letters' starting in S and ending in R. Well, of course, it's 'samovar' any fule know dat. But, could this blogger think of that word whilst in Morrisons, eating sausages? Could he ... flip. That's the first time this blogger has started a Metro crossword in months (admittedly, it's usually only about once per week on trips either to the medical centre or to do some shopping in Byker) where he hasn't finished it and, as a consequence, he was Goddamn cross. Well, they don't call it a cross word for nothing, I guess. And, according to the same newspaper's horoscope for Scorpio, 'you could have a lot of fun with those in your social circle.' Since this blogger doesn't have any real fiends, dear blog reader, you lot are - effectively - his social circle. So, the question needs to be asked, is anybody up for some 'fun'? This blogger is asking because there are some gullible suckers out there who believe in this crap!
Disney World's much-hyped Star Wars Galactic Starcruiser Hotel, which has but one hundred rooms, is 'not even close to selling out,' Disney's availability calendar suggests. The SF Gate website notes that guests who check the 'start planning your voyage' page will 'nearly have their pick of dates through the second-half of 2022.' Almost every day in August, September, October, November and December is available. There are still 'voyages' in June and July, too, including a number of weekends. The 'immersive'Star Wars'experience' opened 1 March. For two adults, the starting price is about five thousand bucks. For three adults and one child, it's nearly six thousand. How much? Jesus, it's little wonder there are spaces available. Guests must book a minimum of a two-night stay, which includes admission to Hollywood Studios on the second day to visit the Star Wars-Land Galaxy's Edge attraction. Reviews of the hotel - if not the, staggering, prices - have generally been positive, with some caveats. Most reviewers noted that people who aren't willing to 'let go of self-consciousness' and 'engage fully in the storylines' probably won't find the experience worth the - outrageously expensive - cost. The hotel is supposed to replicate a galactic cruise liner called The Halcyon and lodgings are small and only have windows looking out onto a screen replicating outer space. To be fair, though, this blogger has stayed in many hotels over the years which've had a similar cold, bleak, desolate view from the windows. Particularly several in London. Reviewers likened rooms in the Star Wars hotel to 'a windowless bunker' and a 'suburban junior high school built in the mid-1970s.' It also lacks the amenities usually expected in hotels with this price tag, like a pool and spa.
Adult website Stripchat is, reportedly, offering a new perk to its employees, masturbation breaks during working hours, complete with custom-built 'wank pods' and VR headsets. The company is an adult website and social network and currently employs two hundred wankers, sorry, employees. The four high-tech 'wank pods' will be located at the company's Cyprus office and will be equipped with an Oculus Quest VR headset and 4K LED screen to watch X-rated films on the masturbation breaks. Of course, dear blog reader, if you're self employed or, currently, working from home you can also take advantage of a masturbation break. You don't get a wank pod, though. You just have to do it on the carpet, like everyone else.
A judge hearing a defamation lawsuit brought against FAUX News by a voting software company has said that the network's case 'may suffer' because one of its own hosts, the Odious Right-Wing Nutjob Tucker Carlson, himself dismissed claims at the centre of the case. In an opinion handed down in response to several motions to dismiss the lawsuit, New York State Supreme Court Judge David Cohen wrote that Smartmatic USA can continue pursuing its claims against the network and several of its hosts over the reporting of claims made by lawyer, conspiracy theorist and certified mental Sidney Powell about the company's systems. He also wrote that 'ironically, the statements of Tucker Carlson, perhaps the most popular FOX News host, militate most strongly in favour of a possible finding that there is a substantial basis that FOX News acted with actual malice' by repeatedly broadcasting claims that Smartmatic's software was 'compromised', allowing the erection to be 'stolen' in Joe Biden's favour. As Judge Cohen puts it, even as network hosts - including Lou Dobbs, Maria Bartiromo and others - were still claiming that the company's software 'played a role' in the - entirely fictional - 'theft' of the erection, Carlson was reporting, in writing and on-air, that 'Powell never demonstrated that a single vote was flipped' from now extremely former President Rump to President Biden. As a result, he added, 'there are sufficient allegations that FOX News knew, or should have known, that Powell's claim was false and purposefully ignored the efforts of its most prominent anchor to obtain substantiation of claims of wrongdoing' by Smartmatic. Carlson did, indeed, dismiss Powell's barmy claims on-air in a segment not long after the final 2020 erection result was announced. Following up on a madcap news conference Powell held with Rump attorneys Rudy Giuliani and Jenna Ellis, Carlson specifically addressed Powell's claims about compromised software. 'We invited Sidney Powell on the show,' Carlson said in November 2020. 'But she never sent us any evidence, despite a lot of requests, polite requests - not a page. When we kept pressing, she got angry and asked us to stop contacting her. When we checked with others around the Trump campaign, people in positions of authority, they told us Powell has never given them any evidence either. Nor did she provide any today at the press conference. Powell did say that electronic voting is dangerous and she's right, we're with her there. But she never demonstrated that a single actual vote was moved illegitimately by software from one candidate to another. Not one. We're telling you this because it's true. And in the end, that's all that matters.'
The Rolling Stones have announced their first UK rock and/or roll jigs since the death of Charlie Watts last year. The band will play in Liverpool and London as part of their sixtieth anniversary tour of Europe this summer. As with their US dates last year, Watts will be replaced by Steve Jordan, a musician who has played with Keith Richards since the 1980s. Watts, who joined the band in 1963, died last August at the age of eighty. When the band returned to the stage the following month, Sir Mick The Jag dedicated the show to his old friend. 'We all miss Charlie so much. We miss him as a band, we miss him as friends - on and off the stage,' he told an audience in Massachusetts.
The RSPCA says it has started prosecution proceedings against Kurt Zouma and his brother, Yoan, for their roles in the filming of Kurt kicking a cat. Dagenham & Redbridge's Yoan, filmed Kurt kicking and slapping one of his pets. The pair seemed to find their abusive actions vastly amusing. Few others did. After the video appeared, the RSPCA removed two cats from Kurt's home and began liaising with Essex Police about the sick and sordid incident. Disgracefully, Kurt continued to play for West Hamsters United despite the controversy having been defended by his manager, the odious David Moyes, a man with his own history of threatening abusive behaviour. An RSPCA spokesperson said: 'Following a full and thorough investigation, we have started the process of bringing a prosecution against Kurt Zouma and Yoan Zouma under the Animal Welfare Act. The two cats continue to be cared for by the RSPCA. We will be in a position to release more information once a court date is confirmed.' West Hamsters United said that they were 'aware of the RSPCA statement in relation to its investigation.' The club added: 'Kurt continues to co-operate fully, supported by the club. It is our understanding that Kurt's cats have been checked by a vet, are in good health and have suffered no physical injuries. For legal reasons, neither Kurt or the club will be making any further comment at this time.' Following the incident, West Hamsters United said they had fined the elder brother 'the maximum amount possible' and the fee would be donated to animal welfare charities. However, Hamsters sponsor Experience Kissimmee said it would end its deal with the club and another sponsor, Vitality, suspended its deal. German sportswear firm Adidas also announced it had ended its deal with Kurt Zouma. National League club Dagenham & Redbridge said Yoan, who has not been picked since 29 January, would now return to their squad.
Summer might be the best time to hit the beach, but spring isn't a bad time for a trip to the coast either, at least, this is according to the Evening Crocodile. But, instead of sunbathing and ice creams, you may want to take advantage of the longer days with a bracing walk followed by some fish and chips or coffee and cake in a cosy café with a nice sea view. All of which sounds lovely to this blogger - apart, maybe, from the 'bracing walk' thing since this blogger still finds it difficult to manage more than the trip down the street from The Stately Telly Topping Manor Plague House to the nearest bus stop without the aid of a stick and several stops for breath en-route. For those who do like the sound of that (or, most of it), a Northumberland fishing village has been named one of the best spots to escape to this spring. Gorgeous Seahouses is the second most sought-after coastal town for a spring holiday in the UK, beaten only by Tenby in Pembrokeshire, according to searches on HolidayCottages.co.uk since the New Year. The website, which describes itself as 'a self-catering specialist,' has also launched its Great British Coast Hub, to provide information for anyone considering a holiday by the sea. And it's not just the fishing village itself that is popular, there's plenty nearby too. Bamburgh was named as one of the top ten beaches in Europe by Tripadvisor in February and Beadnell dubbed one of the top destinations both to holiday and to live in 2022. And, if you get as far as Bamburgh, your only a spit away (if the tide is out and the causeway isn't under-water) from Lindisfarne. Or, coming inland, from beautiful Alnmouth, another of this blogger's favourite places on God's good Earth. Matt Brayley, the Marketing Director at holidaycottages.co.uk, said: 'More than ever, people are feeling the draw of being by the sea and realising that you don't need to travel far to experience the benefits of a revitalising coastal break. Here in the UK, we're lucky enough to have an amazing coastline full of beautiful beaches and secluded coves, which offer something for all our guests.' Indeed. There's The Long Sands at Tynemouth, of course. And, Embleton Bay, Druridge Bay and South Blyth all of which feature on Tripadvisor's Top Ten Northumberland Beaches list. This is a staggeringly beautiful part of the world, dear blog reader. Providing the weather is decent. Which it can be. Sometimes. Although, it's always worth remembering that the gorgeous azure blue water out there off these fantastic stretches of firm sands is The North Sea and directly opposite this is Norway. So, if you're planning on taking a dip, do please be aware, it can be fekking cold in there. Frequently.
Two men have been extremely arrested on suspicion of burglary at a mansion which has featured in major films. The pair both from Leicester, were detained early on Sunday at Mentmore Towers, in Buckinghamshire. The Grade II listed building has been used for films including Batman Begins - in which it played the part of Stately Wayne Manor - and Eyes Wide Shut. Thames Valley Police said nothing of any value was taken and the men had been released on police bail and told not to be so daft in future. Mentmore Towers was designed by Sir Joseph Paxton for the Rothschild banking family in the Nineteenth Century. It has also featured in Ali G Indahouse and Johnny English. Although, we can't really blame it for those twenty four carat disasters any more than we can blame The Happy Chef in Waalsend for its, unfortunate, connection to The Odious Sting. Sometimes, dear blog reader, guilt-by-association is just, plain wrong.
And then again, sometimes it isn't. Dominic Cummings - a really good example of that old truism 'Hell hath no fury like a woman scorn'd.' Only. he's male - has accused his former boss, Boris Johnson of being a naughty lying liar over claims that intelligence officers' security concerns about giving a peerage to a Russian media magnate and son of a former KGB officer were 'overridden.' The Prime Minister - and hairdo - dismissed as 'simply incorrect' reports last week that he, allegedly, 'tried to intervene' to hand Evgeny Lebedev a seat in the House of Lords and law-making powers for life against the advice of UK spy agencies. While Johnson was on a trip to the Middle East, Dominic Raab, the Deputy Prime Minister (and, a classic example if ever there was one of The Peter Principle of over-promotion), stood in at Prime Minister's Questions and dismissed as 'sheer nonsense' concerns raised over the appointment process. But, Cummings said Raab had been 'given duff lines' and that Cummings knew that the suggestion there was 'no wrongdoing' was false. 'I was in the room when the PM was told by Cabinet Office officials that the intelligence services and other parts of the deep state had, let's say, serious reservations about the PM's plan,' Cummings, the Prime Minister's former chief aide before he got the Old Tin-Tack and became extremely bitter about it, claimed in a blogpost. 'I supported these concerns and said to the PM in his study explicitly that he should not go ahead. He was very cross and as he does when cross he blustered nonsense.' Cummings said the Prime Minister 'stopped talking to him' about the issue and 'got a stooge to creep into the Cabinet Office labyrinth and cut a deal,' citing similarities with Johnson's alleged behaviour over attempts to get Tory donors to pay for his flat refurbishment. The House of Lords appointments committee, which is meant to scrutinise the nomination of new peers, was given a 'sanitised/edited/redacted' version of the security reports, Cummings claimed. 'I am confident in predicting nobody would swear under oath the PM is telling the truth - including the PM,' he added. The controversy around Lord Lebedev's appointment was reignited last week with a Sunday Times story headlined Lebedev Got Peerage After Spies Dropped Warning, which followed previous reporting in the Gruniad Morning Star and Byline Times. Lebedev insisted in the aftermath that he was not an 'agent of Russia.' One or two people even believed him.
Weeks after the 2020 US erection, at least one extremely former President Rump White House aide was named as 'secretly' producing a report which alleged extremely former President Rump lost to Joe Biden because of Dominion Voting Systems - research which formed the basis of the former President's wider efforts to overturn the results of the erection. The Gruniad Morning Starclaims that the Dominion report, subtitled OVERVIEW 12/2/20 - History, Executives, Vote Manipulation Ability and Design, Foreign Ties, was initially prepared so that it 'could be sent to legislatures in states' where the Rump White House 'was trying to have Biden's win reversed.' But, top Rump officials would also use the research which stemmed from the White House aide-produced report, to weigh other options to return Rump to the presidency, including having the extremely former President sign an executive orders to 'authorise sweeping emergency powers.''The previously unreported involvement of the Rump White House aide in the preparation of the Dominion report raises the extraordinary situation of at least one administration official being among the original sources of Rump's efforts to overturn the 2020 erection,' the Gruniad states. The publicly available version of the Dominion report, which first surfaced in early December 2020 on the conservative outlet The Gateway Pundit, names on the cover and in metadata as its author Katherine Friess, a volunteer on the Rump post-erection legal team. But the Dominion report was, in fact, produced by the senior Rump White House policy aide Joanna Miller, according to the original version of the document reviewed by the Gruniad and an alleged - though suspiciously anonymous and, therefore, possibly fictitious - 'source' allegedly 'familiar with the matter,' who 'spoke on the condition of anonymity.' In case they got their knee-caps done, presumably. The original version of the Dominion report named Miller - who worked for the senior Rump adviser Peter Navarro - as the author on the cover page, until her name was abruptly replaced with that of Friess before the document was to be released publicly, the alleged 'source' allegedly said. The involvement of a number of other Rump White House aides who worked in Navarro's office was also scrubbed around that time, the 'source' allegedly added. Friess has told The Daily Beast that she 'had nothing to do with the report' and did not know how her name came to be on the document. It was not clear why Miller's name was removed from the report, which was sent to Rump's former attorney Certified Loon Rudy Giuliani on 29 November 2020, or why The White House aide's involvement was obfuscated in the final 2 December version. Though one can, perhaps legitimately, speculate that all manner of shenanigans and malarkey were at work in these doings.
NASA's new space telescope has gazed into the distant universe and shown perfect vision: a spiky image of a faraway star photobombed by thousands of ancient galaxies. The image, released on Wednesday from the James Webb Space telescope, was a test shot - not an official science observation - to see how its eighteen hexagonal mirrors worked together for a single coordinated image taken one million miles away from Earth. Officials said it 'worked better than expected.' Last month, NASA looked at a much closer star with eighteen separate images from its mirror segments. Scientists said they were 'giddy' as they watched the latest test photos arrive. NASA's test image was aimed at a star one hundred times fainter than the human eye can see - two thousand light years from home.
Some really sad news, now, William Hurt, the Oscar-winning US actor whose roles ranged from acclaimed 1980s dramas to Marvel films, has died at the age of seventy one. A great favourite of all of us here at From The North, Hurt won the best actor Oscar in 1986 for playing a prisoner in a Brazilian jail in Kiss Of The Spider Woman. He was nominated twice more in the next two years, for two of this blogger's favourite movies, Children Of A Lesser God and Broadcast News. In recent years, he has been known as General Thunderbolt Ross in five Marvel blockbusters. Hollywood website Deadline quoted a statement from Hurt's son Will as saying: 'It is with great sadness that the Hurt family mourns the passing of William Hurt, beloved father and Oscar winning actor, on 13 March 2022, one week before his Seventy Second birthday. He died peacefully, among family, of natural causes. The family requests privacy at this time.' Hurt began acting on stage in the 1970s before making his big-screen breakthrough as an obsessed scientist in Ken Russell's Altered States, which earned him a best newcomer nomination at the Golden Globes in 1981. That year, he also starred as a womanising lawyer in erotic thriller Body Heat, before being cast in The Big Chill and Gorky Park. Winning an Oscar for playing a gay man who shares a cell with a political prisoner in Kiss Of The Spider Woman was 'very isolating,' he later told the Los Angeles Times.' The instant they gave it to me, I thought, "God, what do I do now? How am I going to walk into a room and have any other actor trust me?"' That did not stop him getting two more consecutive nominations, though, before roles in The Accidental Tourist, Lost In Space (we should probably try to forgive him for that one), Contagion and AI. Then came a fourth Oscar nomination for David Cronenberg's A History Of Violence in 2006. He also received EMMY nominations for playing Treasury Secretary Henry Paulson in 2011's Too Big To Fail and for the legal TV drama Damages. He also received great acclaimed for his performance as the theoretical physicist Richard Feynman in the 2013 TV movie The Challenger Disaster.
One of this blogger's favourite actors, Peter Bowles, famous for starring opposite That Awful Keith Woman in the BBC comedy series To The Manor Born, has died at the age of eighty five, his agent has confirmed. He also appeared in movies such as The Bank Job, Eyewitness and The Steal as well as TV shows including The Irish RM, Magnolia Street and Only When I Laugh. The actor's agent said Bowles had 'sadly passed away from cancer. He leaves his wife of over sixty years, Sue and their three children Guy, Adam and Sasha.' The statement continued: 'Starting his career at The Old Vic Theatre in 1956, he starred in forty five theatrical productions ending at the age of eighty one in The Exorcist at The Phoenix Theatre. He worked consistently on stage and screen, becoming a household name on TV as the archetypal English gent in To The Manor Born, Only When I Laugh, The Bounder and Lytton's Diary, which he devised himself.' Devilishly handsome and with a velvety voice and wry, witty ability to deliver a pithy quip, Bowles was - sadly - best known to the wider public for his role as Richard DeVere in To The Manor Born which broadcast from 1979 to 1981, starring as the self-made businessman alongside That Awful Keith Woman, with the pair subsequently reprising their roles in a one-off - and, really not very good - 2007 special. But, his career was a long and glorious one taking in a wide range of comedy and drama. He told the Daily Scum Mail in 2018 that he became 'something of an overnight success' in his forties after starring in To The Manor Born, having not even been invited to the show's press launch. The paper said that the day after it screened he was 'tooted at in the street by fans driving past and, later, given a standing ovation when he walked on stage in The West End.''It did not go down well with the rest of the cast!' he added. He told the Scum Mail that he was 'trained to be a leading Shakespearean actor. The voice! The presence! The size! But I never had a lead.' In 2013 he was offered King Lear, but he explained it had come too late: 'I turned it down - I was too old!'
Born in London in 1936, Peter grew up in Nottingham and won a scholarship to the Royal Academy of Dramatic Art. He cut his teeth on stage with the Old Vic Company before embarking on a successful TV career as a reliable and versatile character actor. His astonishing CV included appearances in Doctor Knock, The Great War, Danger Man, Crane, No Hiding Place, The Edgar Wallace Mysteries, Six Of The Best, Out Of The Unknown, Emergency Ward Ten, Redcap, The Baron, The Saint, several Armchair Theatre's (including playing Toby Meres in A Magnum For Schneider, the pilot for Callan), Adam Adamant Lives!, The Troubleshooters, The Prisoner, Doctor Finlay's Casebook, The Avengers (four times, including two of the series best episodes, Dial A Deadly Number and Escape In Time), Champion House, Department S, Softly Softly, Take Three Girls, The Main Chance, Hadleigh, Brett, The Persuaders!, Shelley, Harriet's Back In Town, Crown Court, Napoleon & Love, Good Girl, Special Branch, Public Eye, Survivors, Space: 1999, The Crezz, I, Claudius, Rising Damp, Pennies From Heaven, Tales Of The Unexpected, Visa Versa, Executive Stress, Perfect Scoundrels, Rumpole Of The Bailey, Jericho, Poirot, Sarah Jane Interferes and The Life Of Rock With Brian Pern. And, in movies such as Three Hats For Lisa, Isadora, Blow-Up, The Charge Of The Light Brigade, The Assassination Bureau, A Day In The Death Of Joe Egg, The Legend Of Hell House and Colour Me Kubrick ... A Tru-ish Story. Speaking about his success in sitcoms, Peter told the PA news agency in 2010: 'If you have a great popular TV success, particularly in comedy, people don't think you can act on stage. People thought I was just a sitcom actor and the BBC told me I'd never work in drama again. I didn't realise there were two worlds. It was new to me. I found it very odd and frustrating.' During the Second World War his father had worked as an engineer at Rolls-Royce and when Bowles was six the family moved to one of the poorest working-class districts of Nottingham. Their house had an outside toilet and no bath. 'We were in a Coronation Street environment but everyone was extremely friendly and there were lots of kids. It was terrific,' he said. After appearing in amateur plays in Nottingham, when he won his RADA scholarship and lost his Northern accent. He made his screen debut in 1956 as an uncredited extra in the movie The Extra Day. His first TV appearance came two years later in an episode of The Last Chronicle Of Barset. In 2016, he starred in the BBC series Murder, which delved into the psyches of everyone involved in a murder case through testimony delivered straight to camera by each character. He recently played the role of The Duke Of Wellington alongside Jenna Coleman in the popular ITV period drama Victoria.
Lookin' Trendy, perhaps ... But, clearly, not that trendy, it would seem. Hence the closing down sale.
As noted in the last couple of From The Northbloggerisationism updates, ever since this blogger was released from hospital following his recent nasty health scare, From The North has seen a significant increase in its daily traffic and page-hits. And, the past week has seen this growth trend continue. Once again, this blogger would like to thank all dear blog readers - both long-term and newly-arrived - for their continued patronage and support of From The North. A blog which, seemingly, refused to die when its time appeared to be up (or, nearly up, anyway). It's nice to know, is it not, that in a depressingly certain world, some things remain splendidly unpredictable.
And, finally, dear blog reader, From The North's Headline Of The Week award, this week, goes to the Daily Mirra for this marvellous example of quality journalism. Susan Knox, 'showbiz and TV reporter', one trusts your parents are ever so proud of your achievements and, presumably, your many awards.
That said, this piece of exceptional quality reportage does bring up a couple of important points. Firstly, this blogger himself has been guilty of spending considerable bandwidth on this blog going on about his own recent diarrhoea issues. Nevertheless, the depth on information give about Paddy's knackers being a'fire suggests that someone jolly close to the source has been snitching up this stuff to the Mirra, complete with quotes. Does anyone else detect the faint, but lingering, whiff of rank bullshit coming from this story? And, secondly; if true, what lessons can be learned from this fiasco by the ordinary man in the street? Apart from the obvious - try to avoid being an odious professional, unfunny Northern berk who sits on his own chillis. Thanks Paddy (and Susan), we'll all attempt to do that.

"The Common Curse Of Mankind, Folly & Ignorance, Be Thine In Great Revenue"

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And so, dear blog reader, we reach that time of the year where there is little actual news ... except crass and ill-informed speculation on whom the next Doctor will be and what he or she will be wearing around the TARDIS. We've been here before, of course. Many, many, many, many tedious times. The latest round of speculation began early this week when that bastion of always truthful and accurate reportage, the Daily Mirra claimed that Hugh Grant was 'being tipped' to be the next Doctor. Tipped by whom, they didn't say. Of course, this isn't an entirely barmy idea; Huge his very self has, in fact, played The Doctor previously, albeit non-canonically - in The Lord Thy God Steven Moffat (OBE)'s 1999 Comic Relief episode The Curse Of Fatal Death. Former (and future) Doctor Who showrunner Russell Davies was, certainly, a big fan of Huge's Doctor cameo and - reportedly - Huge was one of two or three people 'sounded out' by Big Rusty in 2004 about taking on the role of The Doctor in the BBC's revival of the popular long-running family SF drama (he has even been described as 'first choice') . He turned down the offer - something which he later claimed to regret - and the role went, instead, to Christopher Eccleston. There has even been speculation that the way in which Big Rusty's second Doctor, David Tennant, played the role - as a charmingly foppish action-hero - may have owed something to Huge's portrayal in The Curse Of Fatal Death. Grant and Big Rusty finally got to work together on 2018's acclaimed BBC drama A Very English Scandal.
Nevertheless, given Huge's revitalised movie career and the usual problem of Doctor Who being a ten-and-a-half month per year production leaving any actor cast in the title role little time to do pretty much anything else (witness Huge's Paddington 2 co-star Peter Capaldi who spent his three years as The Doctor only able to make a couple of appearances in other roles due to his Doctor Who commitments), plus the inevitable problem of money (the BBC have barely got a pot to piss in these days, let alone the ability to afford movie stars on long term contracts), this always looked an unlikely proposition. Though, if it did happen, this blogger would be delighted by such a happenstance. Plus, of course, there was the problem of the 'source' of this claim - the Daily Mirra, remember, is, this blogger hesitates to use the word 'newspaper' since that would be somewhat stretching a point these days, but a 'media organ', which, in 2017, claimed that a - suspiciously anonymous and, therefore, almost certainly fictitious - 'source' had assured them Kris Marshall had already been cast as Peter Capaldi's replacement. Which, of course, he hadn't. You might have noticed. It is also the sister paper of the Sunday People which ludicrously claimed, in 2013, that all one hundred and six missing episodes of 1960s Doctor Who had been located in Ethiopia (in fact, eleven had been found in Nigeria but the Mirra Group have never been particularly bothered with actual facts. At least, not since they stopped hacking people's phones to acquire many of their stories). If the Daily Mirra (or, indeed, any member of Mirra Group Newspapers) assured this blogger that black was darker than white, this blogger would still wish for a second opinion from someone considerably more reliable before believing the claim.
Inevitably, however, despite the Mirra's record of, shall we say. 'printing any old crap without bothering to check whether it's true or not,' several other national newspapers (and, again, one uses that word, in some cases, quite wrongly) also picked up on the Mirra's 'exclusive' reporting of a rumour. For example, here is another, once respected but now risible, trashy, lowest-common-denominator publisher of tripe and nonsense, Radio Times's coverage. However, when the Gruniad Morning Starclaimed - one presumes, based on the Mirra article - that Huge was 'in talks' to be the next Doctor, events took a turn for the marginally more sane. As we all know from the evidence he gave to The Leveson Inquiry, the Gruniad appears to be Hughie's newspaper of choice - whilst, we can probably surmise, giving the fact that they hacked so many people - including Huge himself - and were caught doing so that the Mirra very much isn't. Huge, therefore, was quick to stamp on the Gruniad's allegations with a simple tweet of denial.
It came from the Daily Mirra, mate. You remember them? They used to hack people's phones (including yours). And that - in and of itself - should have probably told us this story was total bollocks in the first place. Nevertheless, let's leave a tiny bit of wiggle room here, there is just the vaguest of possibilities that this is a double-bluff and that Huge is, in fact, going to be cast in the role. This blogger repeats, nothing would delight him more than to see a now mature actor, good at being charming, witty and erudite, fantastic at comedy (as recent roles in Florence Foster Jenkins and Paddington 2 ably proved), a - from interviews - gregarious, generous, interesting chap with some strong opinions (which this blogger mostly shares) on the role of the press in modern society as the next TARDIS occupant. This blogger thinks he'd be a great Doctor. But, according to the man himself, he's not going to be. Unless he's lying, that's the end of the matter. (You can absolutely bet, dear blog reader, that's not going to be the end of the matter. That's not how the Daily Mirra works. Ask Kris Marshall.)
Of course, one thing that we really have to get away from is this idea that The Doctor has a 'type' which is or isn't ... well, 'Doctorish', one supposes. This blogger's Facebook page included a couple of examples of this blogger's fiends dismissing the very idea of Hughie as The Doctor, not because he isn't a fine actor (he clearly is) and not because he's a sixty one year old white man when the next Doctor is far more likely to be non-Caucasian (and, possibly, non-male). But, rather, because of some of the roles that Huge has previously played making him, in some way, 'not Doctorish.' The fact that he's an actor wasn't, seemingly, taken into consideration. This blogger has written before - and, indeed, spoken on the radio - about there being a 'Doctor Template' at work amongst both fandom and, indeed, Fleet Street, to the great detriment of the character. Note, for instance, how every time that a new Doctor is needed fans and journalists immediately start looking at previous incumbents in the role (Tom Baker, usually, since he did it the longest and is still the most recognisable to the general public) and then start trying to fit actors into that sort of template, showing a lack of imagination which would, actually, be funny if it wasn't so tragic. That's why, for example, every time there's going to be a new Doctor, Tony Head gets mentioned, because he previously played a rather Doctor-ish character in another popular long-running fantasy drama (the fact that this was twenty years ago, seemingly, won't stop someone from throwing Tony's hat into the ring once again this time around). It's why, in the early 2000s when Doctor Who was off-air, every six months there would be a rumour that it was coming back (some legitimately based on actual pitches to the BBC, some just wishful thinking to fill tabloid column inches), yet it was always the same sort of names that used to get mentioned as potential 'next Doctors'; Alan Davies (because he looked a bit like a young Tom Baker), Eddie Izzard (because, as Eddie noted himself '[The Doctor]'s a bit weird. Who else is a bit weird? That Eddie Izzard, he's a bit weird!') et cetera. Throw in a few z-list chancers who've been instructed by their agents to mention themselves and Doctor Who in the same sentence to remind some tabloid readers that they're still alive (yes, you Craig Charles) and you have exactly the sort of media feeding-frenzy which crops up every three or four years with monotonous regularity whenever there's a regeneration on the horizon. Of course, as this blogger wrote in 2017, 'on the last three occasions that a new Doctor has been chosen, in all cases the incoming Doctor - Matt Smith, Peter Capaldi and Jodie Whittaker - had been mentioned virtually nowhere by any newspaper, broadcaster, website, media speculator or bookmaker until about three or four days before the announcement was due at which point they, suddenly, become an overnight favourite (or, in Smudger's case, an overnight second favourite behind Paterson Joseph). So, next time there's going to be a change of Doctor ... here's a tip for everyone; don't bother to speculate and ignore all of the people who are speculating to fill column inches. Just wait until about three days before the announcement is due and then check out who is betting on whom.'
But, back to 'The Doctor Template' and why it should be shovelled into the gutter along with all the other rubbish. If there's one thing that Jodie (and, specifically Jo Martin's briefly-seen 'Fugitive Doctor' incarnation) have proved it's that The Doctor can be anyone, of any colour, of any gender, of any temperament, containing any cliché). But, we're all prey to this; on the very Facebook thread that produced much of the content for this segment of the blog, someone said they though Ray Winstone would've been a good Doctor a few years ago and this blogger noted that the actor, whom he really admires and has done since the 1980s, 'doesn't strike me as a Doctor.' Now that, see, is a classic example of exactly what this blogger has just spent several paragraphs railing against. Because he is basing that assumption on what a Doctor should be like on previous roles this blogger has seen the actor play. Keith Telly Topping is sure Ray could've easily pulled it off. This blogger is sure Huge could've pulled it off. He's sure all of the 'almost-but-not-quite' Doctors of the past would've been perfectly fine in the role (and, most would've been a damned sightbetter than Colin Baker ever was). The point is we - as fans - and journalists in particular (who, after all, get paid for exactly these eventualities), need to get away from the idea that The Doctor is a, b and c and start remembering that it is a role which can also encompass d, e, f, g and h as well (and, probably k, q, v, w, x, y and z into the bargain) so long as the scripts support those characteristics. Here endeth today's lesson. Bet, dear blog reader, you're all pure dead glad about that.
It is, of course, to be hoped that the announcement of the casting of the next Doctor - whenever that occurs - does not, as the last one did, become the cause of a (wholly tabloid-created) shitehawk'Doctor's At War' fiasco. One involving a couple of previous Doctors (including The Crap One) arguing on Twitter about the merits of ... stuff. Because that would be really boring.
From that right load of old diarrhoea, dear blog reader, to a story concerning the (for the moment, anyway) actual Doctor, Jodie Whittaker her very self. This one has facts and everything. Honest. 
Filming is currently taking place on Jodie's finale as The Doctor, to be broadcast later in the year and there are plenty of rumours currently doing the Interweb rounds concerning the circumstances in which her Doctor will regenerate into Hugh Grant The Next One - mostly involving 'water' apparently, There are also rumours that fan-favourite Bradley Walsh will return for the episode, based on comments made on a podcast by current TARDIS occupant, John Bishop. One story which we can confirm, however, is the broadcast date for Jodie's penultimate outing in the role. Legend Of The Sea Devils will, apparently, be broadcast on BBC1 on Easter Sunday - April 17 - most likely at 7pm. The Easter transmission date was first disclosed on the Legend Of The Sea Devils director Haolu Wang's online CV. As with the previous Doctor Who episodes The Day Of The DoctorThe Halloween Apocalypse and Eve Of The Daleks, BBC America's schedule appears to show that Legend Of The Sea Devils will have a simultaneous broadcast in the US. The episode will feature the return of the titular reptilians, first seen in the memorable 1972 Jon Pertwee six-parter The Sea Devils (and, last seen in 1984's wretchedly cheap-and-nasty serial Warriors Of The Deep).
A website called Giant Freakin Robot (no, me neither) has published what is, quite truthfully, one of the worst written and most badly researched articles in the history of the Interweb. Normally it would have been of little interest to anyone, particularly, this blog. But in it, the author (Doug Norrie) claims that a new series of From The North favourite The X-Files is, 'currently, in development.' This is based on a 'trusted and proven' - though, suspiciously anonymous and, therefore, almost certainly fictitious - 'source', the article claims. 'It would seem unlikely to bring the main players in David Duchovny and Gillian Anderson back into the mix now if the show is getting fully rebooted,' states the article - so, seemingly, the 'trusted and proven source'couldnot be drawn on whether they would or would not be involved. The article goes on to state that The X-Files'ran for eleven seasons on FOX from 1993 to 2002.' Actually, it ran for nine series between those dates then had two further series made in 2016 and 2018 (the former rather good, the latter - apart from the Darin Morgan episode - almost entirely terrible leading Gillian Anderson to suggest that she, at least, was done with Chris Carter and his show). However, the most risible part of Norris's piece is the following: '[Duchovny and Anderson] were obviously excellent in the roles over the years and even starred in the standalone move that came out in 2008.' Quite what this standalone 'move' was, what it entailed and whether any pictures of it are available online, he didn't say. The movie to which you are - almost - referring, Doug, did indeed come out in 2008 (and, it was shite and was, effectively, retconned out of existence by plotlines which featured in the 2016 revival). However, it was not a 'standalone' given that it was, actually the second X-Files movie; the first one - produced during a summer break whilst the series was still in production - came out in 1998. That one was actually quite good and - both artistically and commercially - a major hit, unlike the second one which, whilst it went into profit (just), was critically taken to the woodshed and given a trousers-down hiding by just about everyone. This blogger very much included. Because, it was a right load of effing toot, basically. Nevertheless, we all await, with something approaching baited breath, to see whether the claims of your 'trusted and proven source' turn out to be accurate or a heap of sewage. Place your bets now, dear blog reader.
This blogger finally got around to watching episodes two and three of Star Trek: Picard's second series earlier this week. Okay, this blogger gets it, it's Picard's Seven, basically, isn't it? A novel - if not, exactly, original - conceit, which seems to have lots of potential and is getting much good feedback from this blogger's Trek-lovin' fiends. Count yer actual Keith Telly Topping very much in. Plus, you know, John De Lancie! What's not to love?
There was another fine episode of From The North favourite Peaky Blinders last weekend - albeit, not quite as good as the Ada-centric glories of the previous week. The Gruniad Morning Star's Michael Hogan makes several decent points (and, a couple of ridiculous ones) in his summary of the episode.
As mentioned in a previous bloggerisationism update, From The North favourite Vera is currently filming its next series in the North East. The Northern Echoreports that recent filming locations have included Morpeth Bus Station and the beautiful Northumberland village of Amble.
More than forty two million knicker has been raised in Comic Relief's latest Red Nose Day broadcast, with a host of c-list celebrity-type individuals (and David Tennant) taking part in sketches and stunts. The charity telethon was broadcast from BBC studios in Salford for the first time. 'Highlights' (and, again, this blogger uses that word quite wrongly) included Dawn French and Jennifer Saunders visiting The Repair Shop and Matt Lucas and David Walliams reviving their Rock Profiles sketches. Oh, it was proper shite dear blog reader. I mean, good causes and all that, this blogger is fine with the outcome but he just wishes he hadn't been asked to sit through eleven hours of Lenny Bloody Henry (last funny, briefly, in 1983) to find out how much had been raised. Still, it could have been worse - Zoe Ball, Kylie Minogue and Joel Dommett (no, me neither) had to pull out of the event after contracting Covid. At shortly after midnight, Red Nose Day announced it had raised forty two million, seven hundred and ninety thousand, one hundred and forty seven smackers for good causes in the UK and around the world. Some of the money will benefit organisations providing aid in Ukraine. Comic Relief co-founder Richard Curtis thanked the 'extraordinary public' for their 'outpouring of generosity.' He said the charity helped eleven million people last year. The show's presenters sent their love to Ball, who was due to be one of the hosts, with national heartthrob David Tennant saying: 'We will miss you tonight Zoe, we are sending you loads of love.' Ball said she would be 'watching and supporting from bed.' Kylie, Kylie, sweet and smiley (sing us a song in a rub-a-dub stylee) told her Twitter followers that she wouldn't be able to take part in a planned sketch with the cast of the sitcom Ghosts. The event's co-host Dommett said he was 'super annoyed' to have caught the virus before Red Nose Day. Dommett was replaced by Professional Northern Plank Vernon Kay, while Ball said Alesha Dixon would 'work the double shift tonight' to fill in for her. Henry, Tennant, AJ Odudu and Professional Northern Berk Paddy McGuinness were Comic Relief's other presenters and were rotated during the broadcast which lasted forever (or, did it just feel like that?) The show also saw Bloody Jack Bloody Whitehall playing England footballers Declan Rice and Mason Mount in a mini-golf challenge - with Bloody Jack Bloody Whitehall coming last. If you missed it, dear blog reader, congratulations it was genuinely horrible, full of smug bastards being unbearably smug whilst doing lots of 'work' for 'charriddee'. Again, to stress, excellent cause(s) but, a suggestion - maybe next year people could just be encouraged to give their hard earned coin to these thoroughly deserving charities without having to watch utter arse the likes of this torture. Tennant, mate, this blogger used to have some respect for you - what are you doing hanging out with these odious individuals?
Though, admittedly, the 'Doctor In Distress' bit was, just about, worth sitting through eleven hours of Bloody Lenny Henry (last, briefly, funny in 1983).
Moving on now to From The North's regular Ukrainereportage - which seems, from the feedback that this blogger has been getting, to be quite popular with several dear blog readers. It's all the stuff related to the (lack of) size of Putin's knob, isn't it? Come on, be honest. Anyway, Russian state-backed propaganda channel RT has had its licence to broadcast in the UK revoked 'with immediate effect' by media regulator Ofcom. Which has caused this blogger some considerable conflict since whilst he is pure dead glad that the odious Russians have had their odious pipeline-of-shite to the West cut nevertheless, he finds himself, for once, in agreement with something done by Ofcom, a politically-appointed quango, elected by no-one. Horrorshow (and drag). The watchdog said RT's parent body ANO TV Novosti was not 'fit and proper to hold a UK broadcast licence.' Or, indeed, to organise a vodka piss-up in a Moscow brewery. RT's coverage of Russia's invasion of - and war crimes in - Ukraine has been under investigation by Ofcom and the channel had already disappeared from UK screens. RT, formerly named Russia Today, called Ofcom 'a tool of the government.' What and you've only just worked that out, have you? The channel became unavailable on all UK broadcast platforms earlier this month as a result of a ban imposed by the European Union. Although the UK is no longer in the EU (you might have noticed, dear blog reader, it was on The News and everything), the bloc applied sanctions to satellite companies in Luxembourg and France, which provided the RT feed to Sky, Freesat and Freeview. RT has also been blocked on YouTube but its website is still available in the UK. Though, probably, not for much longer. The lack of culture secretary The Vile & Odious Rascal Dorries, who has described the channel as 'Putin's polluting propaganda machine', said: 'I welcome Ofcom's decision and it's right that our independent regulator has taken action against RT. The outlets' lies and propaganda, where victims are cast as the aggressors and the brutality of Russia's actions are concealed, have absolutely no place on our screens.' And, again there's terrible conflict as the day this blogger is forced to agree with something The Vile & Odious Rascal Dorries says will be the day his brain melts. Oh, hang on, there it goes ...
Nearly one hundred planes with alleged 'ties to Russia' have been, effectively, grounded and impounded by the US government, including one allegedly owned by the billionaire with the frozen assets and the football club he, seemingly, can't get rid of, Roman Abramovich. The US Commerce Department has said that the planes are 'in contravention of US sanctions on Russia.' Providing service to these aircraft anywhere in the world - including inside Russia, incidentally - may lead to heavy fines and potential jail time, it added. The list includes aircraft operated by Russian airlines, including Aeroflot. Whilst most are Boeing aircraft, a Gulfstream private jet owned by Abramovich - the current owner of Moscow Chelski Frozen Assets - is also included. The Russian was among seven oligarchs extremely sanctioned by the UK government earlier this month in response to the Ukraine war. The others included ex-The Arse shareholder Alisher Usmanov whose eighty two million quid London home and Surrey mansion were both, reportedly, put into trusts linked to the oligarch prior to the imposition of sanctions. Which raises questions over the effectiveness (or otherwise) of sanctions imposed since the invasion of Ukraine began. The UK government claims that Usmanov 'cannot access his assets.'
The UK government has publicly blamed Russia for alleged hoax calls about the conflict in Ukraine allegedly made to British cabinet ministers. Defence Secretary Ben Wallace and Home Secretary That Awful Patel Woman (neither of whom are, sadly, alleged, they both definitely exist) both claimed they had been 'contacted by imposters' last week. Downing Street has now revealed that an unsuccessful alleged attempt was allegedly made to contact the lack of culture secretary The Vile & Odious Rascal Dorries. A spokesman added that 'further hoax calls' to ministers 'are expected.' There is understood to be 'concern in government' that doctored recordings of the calls may be made public to reinforce Russian claims about the war. On Friday, Wallace blamed 'Russian disinformation, distortion and dirty tricks' for a man calling him pretending to be Ukrainian Prime Minister Denys Shmyhal. That Awful Patel Woman revealed shortly afterwards that she had, allegedly, received a similar alleged call earlier in the week. On Monday, Boris Johnson's spokesman told reporters that 'the Russian state was responsible for the hoax telephone calls made to UK ministers last week.' The spokesman did not give further details, but added: 'This is standard practice for Russian information operations. Disinformation is a tactic straight from the Kremlin playbook to try to distract from their illegal activities in Ukraine and the human rights abuses being committed there. We are seeing a string of distraction stories and outright lies from the Kremlin, reflecting Putin's desperation as he seeks to hide the scale of the conflict and Russia's failings on the battlefield.'
The owner of Burger King has said the operator of its eight hundred stores in Russia has 'refused' to close them, despite its demand to suspend trading after the invasion of Ukraine. Last week, Burger King, which is owned by Restaurant Brands International, said it had suspended all supply chain, operational and marketing support for the Russian operation. RBI has been unable to close the operations directly, as rivals such as McDonald's have done, because of 'a complicated legal contract' with its main franchisee partner, Alexander Kolobov, with whom it has run the joint venture in Russia for a decade. 'We contacted the main operator of the business and demanded the suspension of Burger King restaurant operations in Russia,' David Shear, the president of RBI, said in a statement and letter to staff. 'He has refused to do so. Would we like to suspend all Burger King operations immediately in Russia? Yes. Are we able to enforce a suspension of operations today? No.' Burger King is one of a number of Western companies, including Marks & Spencer and the hotel groups Marriott and Accor, that are prevented by complex franchise deals from withdrawing. Which, of course. brings up the obvious question - what do they call a Whopper® in Russia? Not that Vladimir Putin will have any need to use the word in question, clearly.
Swiss food giant Nestlé is reported to be pulling its popular brands out of Russia but will still sell 'essential foods.' The firm stopped investment in the country earlier this month but has now suspended sales of brands such as KitKat and Nesquik. So, no more nice crunchy choccy wafer bars and milkshakes for Vlad The Small, seemingly. How jolly sad. The move follows fierce criticism of the firm by Ukrainian politicians. And, by Middle Class hippy Communist, quiche-eating Gruniad Morning Star readers, obviously. A growing number of Western brands have suspended operations in Russia in protest at the war but a few are staying put. 'As the war rages in Ukraine, our activities in Russia will focus on providing essential food - not on making a profit,' Nestlé claimed. One or two people even believed them. 'We are fully complying with all international sanctions on Russia,' it added. Ukraine's President Volodymyr Zelenskiy criticised Nestlé for still conducting business in Russia in a streamed speech to protesters on Saturday. And earlier, Denys Shmyhal tweeted that Nestlé boss Mark Schneider 'shows no understanding.'
For several months, a mysterious one hundred and forty-metre-long, six-floor luxury 'super yacht' has towered over the smaller boats in the shipyard in Marina di Carrara, a town on Italy's Tuscan coast, arousing curiosity among its people over the identity of its wealthy owner. 'It's the largest yacht I've ever seen here,' said Suzy Dimitrova, who owns a - much smaller - boat in the marina. 'There are people cleaning it all the time. The last time I saw it leave [the shipyard] was last year. We're all wondering who the owner is.' The Scheherezade, said to be worth seven hundred million bucks, is 'under investigation by Italian authorities' for potential links to sanctioned Russians. And activists working with the jailed Russian opposition leader Alexei Navalny are in no doubt that the yacht is owned by the Russian president Vlad The Small. Well, given its size, it's clearly a massive bit of dick-compensation. On Monday, investigative journalist Maria Pevchikh and anti-corruption activist Georgy Alburov said that all crew members, obtained from a list dating December 2020, were Russian, apart from the captain. In a video published on YouTube, they claimed that some of the yacht's staff worked for the Russia's Federal Service, an agency which manages security for high-ranking officials, including Putin. The activists, who have urged Italian authorities to seize the yacht, said this information proves it belongs to Putin. 'They are Russian state employees, military personnel and they regularly travel to Italy as a group to work on the mysterious yacht,' Pevchikh wrote on Twitter. The interior of the vessel was described as being equipped with a spa, swimming pools, two helipads, a wood-burning fireplace and a pool table designed to tilt so as to reduce the impact of the waves. Yeah, definitely compensating for something.
A petition calling on Switzerland to deport a Russian woman rumoured to be Vlad The Small's lover has received more than sixty one thousand signatures. From morons who, seemingly, don't understand that online petitions never, ever work. Still, don't let that stop you because, you know, these sort of things are always pure dead funny to watch. The campaign to expel Alina Kabaeva, a former Olympic gymnast and politician - who, seemingly, doesn't mind men with big egos but very small genitalia - was started by Russian, Belarussian and Ukrainian nationals after Putin's invasion of Ukraine some weeks ago. Written in English, French and German, the petition, which was posted on the notoriously crap change.org website, describes the thirty eight year old as 'the favourite wife of a delusional dictator.' With a very small penis. Allegedly. Comparing the Russian leader to Adolf Hitler (who only had one), it then urges Switzerland to see that 'Eva Braun' be 'returned to her Führer.' Its writers accuse Switzerland of 'continuing to host her and her family, whilst Putin is destroying the lives of millions.' Last month, Switzerland said it would join other countries in imposing sanctions against Russia. Speaking after the decision, Jacques Pitteloud, the country's ambassador in the US, said Switzerland remained a 'neutral' country. 'Neutral' in so much as they hid a shitloads of Nazi gold in the vaults of their Zurich banks for decades, presumably. Kabaeva has been romantically linked to Vlad The Small since 2008, when Moskovsky Korrespondent reported that the pair were engaged. The paper closed down a short time later. Although there is - clearly - no connection between the two events. Oh no, very hot water. In 2015, a Swiss newspaper claimed Kabaeva had given birth to Putin's sprog in Lugano. However, the Kremlin denied that Vlad The Small was the father. Though, tragically, they did not cite his titchy todger as evidence he couldn't be The Daddy. After her sports career, the Olympic gold medallist turned to politics, becoming the Duma's deputy speaker between 2007 and 2014. She was later chosen as chair of the Kremlin-linked National Media Group. Putin, who was previously married for three decades to Lyudmila Skrebneva before she divorced him - due to his lack of girth - is, famously, reticent about his personal life. And, about the size of his dong. Probably. 
According to Sarah Jones of the New York Intelligencier, Ukraine Doesn't Deserve Bono's Terrible Poem. For, it would seem that Mister Bonio our of The U2 Group and humanitarian world-saver wrote a - really terrible - poem in honour of Ukraine, which the Congress House Speaker Nancy Pelosi was forced to read out as a prelude to a Riverdance performance, recently. 'Brace yourselves,' notes Jones, before quoting said poem, 'this was not a beautiful day.'Sample stanzas: 'Ireland's sorrow and pain/Is now the Ukraine/And Saint Patrick's name now Zelenskyy.' Oh, Jesus. This is, of course, not the first time that The U2 Group have managed to shoehorn themselves into an international tragedy. In December 2015, The U2 Group wrote a song in tribute to Paris after the terrorist attacks which left one hundred and thirty people dead. As this blogger noted at the time: 'As if those poor people of Paris haven't suffered enough already.' The U2 Group - featuring Mister Bonio out of The U2 Group, Mister The Edge out of The U2 Group and ... The Other Two out of The U2 Group - were due to play in the French capital in the days after the attacks, but the gigs were cancelled as a result of the atrocity.' Proving that, just occasionally, every cloud does have a silver lining.
Russia has been warned off bidding to host the football European Championship in 2028 after it submitted an unexpected declaration of interest in staging the tournament. UEFA confirmed that Russia, the subject of a series of sporting bans after the invasion of Ukraine, had joined Turkey and the UK and Ireland in submitting declarations before Wednesday's deadline. The five-nation bid had been expected to win the 2028 rights in an uncontested process before Russia intervened. Alongside Turkey and Italy, Russia also declared an interest in hosting the event in 2032. UEFA reacted to the Russian declaration - which is likely to be interpreted as a provocation by a country with a leader whose chap is tiny - by insisting that further sporting sanctions could yet be taken against the country. Russian teams, at national and club level, are currently banned from participation in any FIFA and UEFA competitions. The Russian Football Union itself, however, is not the subject of any suspension and remains an active member of both international governing bodies. In a statement UEFA indicated that this situation 'could change' if Russia were to proceed from a declaration of interest to submitting a formal hosting bid. A declaration of interest is the first step in a bidding process which could last another year. UEFA is set to confirm the identities of countries involved in the full bidding process on 5 April. 'The Bureau of the FIFA Council and the UEFA Executive Committee decided on 28 February to suspend all Russian teams, whether national representative teams or club teams, from participation in both FIFA and UEFA competitions until further notice,' it said. 'However, no suspension of the Football Russian Union was imposed at that time.' Russia has previously announced its intention to challenge the UEFA and FIFA suspensions at the court of arbitration for sport. Last week CAS ruled that any appeal would not be expedited to allow Russia to complete its World Cup qualifying play-off match against Poland. The Poles have been given a bye to the final round where they will face the winner of the tie between the Czech Republic and Sweden. The court is still expected to rule on whether the suspensions are legal but a decision is not expected for some weeks. Meanwhile, that numbskull of a Prime Minister of ours has suggested Ukraine should be allowed entry to World Cup despite them being yet to face Scotland in a play-off (one which, if they should win, Ukraine would then play Wales for a place in the finals after Wales's victory over Austria this week). If Bashing Boris had been attempting to come up with a better recruitment poster for the Scottish National Party and Plaid Cymru he'd have struggled to beat this one. He really is about as much use as a one-legged man in an arse-kicking competition. He also described the Russian bid to host the 2028 European Championship as 'beyond satire' and then, get this dear blog reader, he recommended the hosting of the same tournament be awarded to Ukraine ... despite the fact that the government has already backed the UK and Ireland's own joint bid. Whatever that bloke has between his ears, dear blog reader, it sure as Hell isn't brains. Personally, this blogger suspects it's probably shat. Johnson's official spokesperson manfully - but, very unsuccessfully - sought to row-back the Prime Minister's idiotic, clueless remarks. 'He was making a moral point that aggressors such as Russia should not be given a platform on the international stage,' the spokesperson claimed. One or two people even believed him. Pressed on whether Johnson backed the UK and Ireland bid, the spokesperson insisted that Bashing Boris did, urging reporters to 'look at the full clip' and arguing that 'the question was posed in the context of Russia being awarded the championship.' Asked whether Johnson was even aware of the UK and Ireland bid, the spokesperson replied: 'Yes.'No one believed that.
The funniest news story concerning Vlad The Small this week, however, has been JK Rowling criticising Putin, after the Russian president (with his very small penis) cited her in a wide-ranging speech concerning 'Western cancel culture.' At a televised meeting on Friday, Putin compared recent criticism of the Harry Potter author to that faced by pro-war Russian composers and writers. In response, Rowling denounced the invasion of Ukraine in which, she said, Russia was 'slaughtering civilians.' Because, even when faced with - entirely legitimate - criticism concerning her troublesome views on transgender issues, who wants to be defended by Vladimir Putin?
Lord Grade, the TV executive, businessman and former BBC chairman has been chosen as the new chairman of UK media regulator Ofcom - a politically-appointed quango, elected by no one. The lack of culture secretary, The Vile & Odious Rascal Dorries said that she was 'delighted' to announce he is the government's 'preferred candidate' for the role. Well, of course she did, he's a Tory Peer, why wouldn't she be delighted? Grade said he was 'privileged' to be asked. Further Conservative peers Ed Vaizey and Stephen Gilbert were thought to be amongst the other candidates. The recruitment process for the three-day-a-week, one hundred and forty two grand-a-year job has taken two years, with ex-Daily Scum Mail editor and total scumbag The Odious Dacre reportedly having been in the running at one stage. It was overseen by civil servant Sue Gray, who also carried out the recent 'partygate' probe. The Vile & Odious Rascal Dorries added: 'Lord Grade's experience at the highest level of a number of broadcasters and his expert knowledge of the British media landscape makes him an ideal candidate for this role.' Meanwhile, Big Rusty and The Lord Thy God Steven Moffat (OBE) have, allegedly, threatened to kick Grade's face right in if he even thinks about casting his jaundiced gaze over Doctor Who again and punch him, hard, up the bracket on general principle. Which is both a fair and appropriate response in this blogger's not-even-remotely-humble opinion. But then, he is biased. It's a fair cop.
For the first time in a handful of From The North bloggerisationism updates, dear blog reader, this blogger has little to add on the subject of his current lack-of-health (see here, here, here and here for previous malarkey on that score). Little, but not nothing, obviously! Next week will see this blogger having a further series of medical visits, test and other general prickage whilst his doctors attempt to get to the bottom of the causes underlying his recently diagnosed pernicious anaemia. As noted previously, however, whilst most of the symptoms remain unchanged at this time, at least this blogger has begun to regain some of his appetite. As this little beauty ably demonstrates. Which, of course, this blogger really deserved. Goes without saying.
On Thursday, for us luncheon at The Stately Telly Topping Manor Plague House, we had omelette, bacon and chips with a nice hot cup of Rosie Lea. Deserved? What do you think, dear blog reader?
Then, on Friday, this blogger found it necessary to limp down the street and travel to Byker by bus for his weekly meat injection. Doing the Metro crossword whilst having his Breakfast At Morrisons, this blogger had but one clue to answer - 'get very angry, three-three-and-four'). Just as this blogger was about to hit the roof, he realised it was ... 'hit the roof.' In, the Metroscope, the risible Patrick Arundell was unusually fluid in his astrological cosmic bullshit noting 'today's Sun-Moon angle urges you to finalise a plan. [Never believe in anything Patrick Arundall claims about cosmic events, probably.] Plus, your pleasure plans sparkle [this blogger has'pleasure plans'? Who knew?], with key planets in your recreational sector adding to the lively ambience. Yet, while this can coincide with more outings [I've got three - probably invasive - medical appointments next week, would those qualify?], it could also encourage a playful mood.' So, if you hear of this blogger getting arrested for being 'playful' with a nurse next week, dear blog reader, you know exactly whom to blame.
Plus, haircut! Severe, but necessary, this blogger was starting to look like a member of Barclay James Harvest. Which is never a good thing. 
Tuesday of this very week was, as this blogger is sure you are all well aware, National Mime Day. This blogger would have mentioned this glorious day of celebration earlier but ... nobody said anything.
During last Sunday's Bahraini Grand Prix, somebody asked this blogger what the capital of Bahrain is. This blogger replied: 'I dunno, why don't you ask The Muppets?' Seemingly, he did.
Speaking of events in Bahrain, this blogger doesn't believe he has ever laughed quite as much at the last two laps of a Grand Prix when both of the Red Bull cars - driven by the unfortunate Max Verstappen and the even more unfortunate Chico Perez - had to retire. Due to what this blogger is sure Adam & His Ants would describe as a bit of car trouble. It could've been worse; Pierre Gastly in his, Red Bull engine'd, Alpha Tauri - suffered from more than a touch of the John Foxxes. Not that this blogger has anything particular against either of the Red Bull drivers (in fact, he's a fan of both). No, it was that quick shot of their horrible boss, The Odious Snake Horner's mush looking for all the world like a smacked arse that made this blogger's day. Yes, mate, it's called 'karma'. This blogger laughed and he laughed and he laughed until he stopped. And then, he laughed some more.
The race was ultimately won by Ferrari's Charles Lecler with his Scuderia teammate Carlos Sainz in second place. The late drama involving Max and Chico allowed the sluggish-looking Merc of Whinging Lewis Hamilton to finish in third, with another of this blogger's favourite drivers, George Russell - in his first drive since leaving Williams for Mercedes - in fourth. Whinging Hamilton had looked set for fifth place as Mercedes' pace problems became clearer during the race but Red Bull's nightmare in the latter stages provided the seven-time champion with an unexpected boost. The irony that Whinging Hamilton gained from Red Bull's misfortunes in the first race after he lost the world title in the controversial climax to last season will be lost on jolly few. The Odious Snake Horner said he did not yet know what had gone wrong but it 'looks like an issue in the fuel system' for both Red Bull cars. Russell took fourth ahead of the revived Haas of Kevin Magnussen and Valtteri Bottas' Alfa Romeo, a strong drive from the Finn after a dreadful start dropped him right down the field from his sixth place on the grid. The new rules introduced this year with the aim of closing up the field and making overtaking easier have certainly shuffled the pack, with Mercedes and McLaren the biggest losers - in this race, at least - and Ferrari and Haas, seemingly, gaining most. 
It was jolly nice, watching the Winter Olympics recently, to know that the sole winter sport which Team Great Britain remain any good at is 'Fiendish Thingy Brushing', winning both a gold and a silver. Okay, so we're completely rubbish at downhill, luge, twatting about on ice in sequins and that curious 'jumping off the side of a mountain protected only by a couple of small poles' thing; but, stick a fiendish thingy in front of us plucky Brits and we can, quite literally, Brush For England. Or, Scotland, mostly, if we're being strictly accurate about this.
When yer actual Keith Telly Topping was naught but a wee-nipper, dear blog reader, his eldest brother (who was in the RAF at the time and, liked to buy stuff in far-off and exotic places - like London) brought home a reel-to-reel two-track tape recorder (an Elizabethan Automatic 2 model, produced between 1964 and 1967 for any tech heads out there and retailing at the astronomical price of twenty seven quid). This blogger still has it and it still (sort of) works. The tape features various recordings made by the Telly Topping family during the mid-to-late 1960s and early-1970s and includes the voices of this blogger's beloved late parents, his late grandparents (Lamb), his two brothers but, mostly, as you'd expect because he's always been a pushy little bugger, Keith Telly Topping his very self. Until you've heard this blogger singing The Kinks''Autumn Almanac' as a three year old during The Summer Of Love, trust me dear blog reader, you've never lived. There are also various interesting reminders of a number of nursery rhymes which this blogger used to have read to him and then repeat back. 'Hark, Hark, The Dogs Do Bark' was a particular favourite ... although looking that one up on Wikipedia this blogger was shocked - and stunned - into shame to discover that his dad used different words to the standard version; apparently, it's 'some in rags and some in jages' - a Tudor-period word for a fashionable style of clothing - not 'bags' as this blogger's father had it. As for the bit on the tape where Our Colin Telly Topping says to this blogger 'Simple Simon Met A .... you're not very good, are you?' I was four, mate and didn't, yet, possess a brain the size of an Adidas Telstar. But, there's one real curiosity, which is this blogger singing (probably at around the age of five) a song which he has been utterly unable to find any reference to online and he's now starting to think that someone in his family - if not Keith Telly Topping his very self - must've written it. It goes 'My father died a year ago, he left me all his riches/a feather bed and a wooden leg and a pair of calico britches/A coffee pot without a spout, a cup without a handle/a couple of bob and a broken knob and a half-a-farthing candle.' The fact that there is, apparently, a folk dance group called Half-A-Farthing Candle (this blogger found that much during his Google search) suggests that this is, perhaps, a slightly better known song than Keith Telly Topping has managed to trace thus far (it would be a staggering coincidence if their name didn't come from the song in question). This blogger is aware that the words may be completely wrong - and, indeed, almost certainly are, hence his inability to find references to it on the Interweb - but, does anybody else recognise this, dear blog readers? And, if so, what the Hell is it actually called? Because, it doesn't seem to be, as this blogger had always presumed, 'My Father Died A Year Ago'. Anyway, here is a picture of the ancient electronic artefact of which we have been speaking. They built things to last in those days. 
Of course, barely had this blogger typed all of that up and posted it on his Facebook page, dear blog reader, than one of this blogger's Facebook fiend, the very excellent Paul Rhodes, produced the following, an extract from TP Marhsall's Local Tales published in the Newport & Market Drayton Advertiser in October 1889.
Paul also notes that the (seemingly title-less) song is also reproduced in a modern collection - as a nursery rhyme, rather than a lyric - The Vintage Book Of Fathers by Louise Guinness, most recently republished in 2012. Not only that, but there is also a reference to the song in the Western Mail in 1918 where it is described as being 'once popular in Glamorgan.' As this blogger noted in his reply, 'it was, also, very popular in at least one household in the East End of Newcastle for a few months circa 1968-69.' Whilst different regional variants of the lyrics almost certainly exist, this blogger has to observe that, given the choice between the words as originally printed and the ones he used to sing as a five year old, he rather prefers The Stately Telly Topping Manor Plague House version.
Some properly excellent news now, dear blog reader, Keith Lemon has confirmed that Fantastical Factory Of Curious Craft was cancelled as it was 'too expensive' to make, according to the Sun. Of course, 'Keith Lemon'does not exist, he is a character - and an effing obnoxious one, at that - created by a genuinely talented but sometimes he doesn't seem to know what he does that's actually funny comedian, Leigh Francis. So, just the sort of badly-researched shat one would expect from the Sun, then. In the Channel Four show, 'Keith' teamed up with Naked Attraction's Anna Richardson to host an arts show where contestants had to make eye-catching crafts that the celebrity guests would buy. If you've never seen it, dear blog reader (and very few people have), it was a total load of effing crap, just like everything else Francis has done with the character since Bo' Selecta! In the 'fantastical' show, contestants had to impress 'Keith' with their creations, before they were passed on to famous guests such as Nick Grimshaw, Martin Kemp and Eamonn Holmes. Now, there's a line-up of 'talent' that makes one wish to do harm to ones own eyesight.
Meanwhile, the Maldon Standard (no, me neither), reports that Danny Dyer and 'Keith Lemon' were in an Essex village filming an ITV show, visiting a number of businesses in the area. The two z-list (and odious) celebrities were in Battlesbridge filming an episode for the ITV show, Shopping With Keith Lemon on Sunday 13 March. So, that should certainly be worth avoiding when it is eventually broadcast.
From The North favourite Bill Bailey has revealed that his bid to write Britain's entry for The Eurovision Song Contest was rejected by the BBC for being 'too silly.' The comic, Strictly Come Dancing Winner and twenty four carat national treasure wrote an 'eco-anthem' for the contest inspired by Dad's Army and entitled 'Put That Light Out Mister Hodges.' Ruddy 'ooligan. Bill is, reportedly, a proper fan of the competition and had hoped to represent the UK with his song. And, come last which is Britain's lot at Eurovision these days. Speaking to Jay Rayner on his Out To Lunch podcast, Bill said: 'I'm a bit of a Eurovision nerd only because I've watched it every year since I was a kid, I was obsessed with it, slightly. Every time I'm away or abroad, any part of the world I'm in I try to watch it because it shouldn't still be happening. It's a ludicrous load of nonsense that should no way still be a thing. And yet it's still hugely popular.' He added that the UK struggles because 'we're taking it too seriously and not seriously enough. You should just celebrate the ludicrousness of Britishness and British culture and capture that, bottle it in some way and then enhance it.'
As speculated on this blog (and, indeed, in the Gruniad Morning Star) when the announcement was made that this blogger's favourite podcast, Kermode & Mayo's Film Review was ending its run on 5Live after twenty one years, this is very much not the end of the road. Simon and Mark spent much of the 18 March episode of the massively popular podcast talking about the 'what are we going to listen to now?' reaction to their announcement the previous week and to assure dear listeners that the show is not ending, merely leaving its current home for pastures new (and, presumably, more commercial). Of course, as this blogger has noted to several fiends who've been beside themselves with grief over the though of Friday's without their weekly dose of Wittertainment, if and when Kermode & Mayo's Film Review (or, whatever they decide to rename it since that moniker is, likely, copyright the BBC), it's more than likely that listeners will have to pay for a show they've been getting free on the Beeb for the last twenty one years. That's the modern world for you, dear blog reader, capitalism won in case you hadn't noticed. Ask Mark, he'll give you a twenty page Marxist-Leninist essay on the subject! So, some good news in a week of almost unremittingly awful stories of war, cost of living rises, police incompetence and other general rottenness and horror.
And now, dear blog reader, a new semi-regular From The North feature. Famous People This Blogger Has Slept With; Number one, former Doctor Who star and national treasure Peter Davison.
Could this, perhaps, be the ultimate example of a 'we've organised an aggressive t-shirt campaign and we're having a series of quiche and coffee mornings. But, if those don't bring the government to its knees, I don't know what we'll do?'-style whinging Gruniad Morning Star headline ever? Free-Range Eggs Unavailable In Britain From Monday. Oh, the humanity, dear blog reader. For God's sake, let us sit upon the ground and tell sad stories of the death of kings. Or, on the other hand - this is a bit of a radical suggestion, this blogger freely acknowledgement - couldn't all of the Middle Class hippy Communists at the Gruniad simply try buying none Free Range eggs instead? They may be surprised to discover that a), they're considerably cheaper than Free Range. Also, b) they taste exactly the same as Free Range and c) they're usually not covered in chicken-shit when you buy them. Unlike Free Range. Bonus. Christ, dear blog reader, as this blogger gets older he finds his patience levels with the utter crap that the Gruniad Morning Star chose to care about utterly exhausted. They really are the most irritating example of smug, self-entitled, squatting-on-every-fence slappable wankers imaginable.
You know the widely-held theory that Americans 'don't do' satire, dear blog reader? This blogger isn't so sure that's true, you know ...
From The North favourite The Reverend Richard Coles is one of the most famous vicars in the UK - although, to be fair, if you can name another one, this blogger would be jolly impressed. However, in just over a month's time he will retire from parish duties at his church in rural Northamptonshire and, instead, volunteer to work with convicted prisoners. He will also be leaving the village which has been his home for the last eleven years and the county he and his family are from. So how does the former pop star reflect on his time as vicar of Finedon? Find out in this, rather good, BBC News interview.
A Spanish man who had eaten hash cakes before he was pulled over by police for driving erratically has been fined two thousand and one Euros after reportedly failing to convince officers that he had immunity because he was a diplomat for an 'individual and mobile' republic. One presumes that the extra Euro added to the fine was a bet the judge had with someone. Earlier this month, Guardia Civil officers in the Northern Spanish region of La Rioja ordered the twenty eight-year-old chancer to pull over after noticing that his Volkswagen Golf was zigzagging across the road and that he was on his mobile phone. 'Once the vehicle had been intercepted, the officers asked the driver for his identity documents, to which he responded by showing a driving licence and ID card from the República Errante Menda Lerenda (Wandering Republic Of Yours Truly),' the force said in a statement. Although the 'republic' bills itself online as 'an individual and mobile sovereignty recognised by other states capable of acting with complete independence in strict compliance with international law,' the officers were somewhat less than impressed by his documents or his claims of diplomatic immunity against the driving offences. 'The driver ignored repeated requests to show credible identification and began to show the officers a lack of respect,' the statement continued. If he'd tried that whilst Franco was in charge of the gaff, one imagines, they'd have garrotted him on the spot just opn general principle so this may be regarded as progress. '[He claimed to have immunity on the grounds that he was a member of the sovereign diplomatic service of the aforementioned republic.' After being subjected to a drug test, the man tested extremely positive for THC, the main psychoactive compound in cannabis and told the officers this was 'due to the marijuana madeleines he had eaten.' The Spanish Fuzz, however, were having none of it. Further checks revealed that the car's ITV (the Spanish equivalent of the MOT) had expired. Plus, he was looking at them in a funny way. Probably. The driver had nine points docked from his licence and was fined six hundred and one Euros for disobeying the police and providing false or inaccurate information, one thousand Euros for drug-driving, two hundred Euros for driving while on the phone and a further two hundred Euros for failing to have a valid ITV. His car was also impounded. It is not the first time people have used Menda Lerenda IDs to try to avoid legal problems. And failed. In October 2020, a man wanted for traffic offences was arrested after showing officers in the North-West Galicia region a Menda Lerenda driving licence before attempting to flee to scene. A few months later, another man in the same region produced a Menda Lerenda ID when stopped during a routine Covid check. He was taken to a police station - and, presumably, given a right good kicking - where it emerged that he was wanted by the authorities for refusing to send his children to school.
And, speaking of criminals, Stephen Yaxley-Lennon is, potentially, facing a shitload of jail over possible contempt of court after failing to show up for a high court hearing where he was to be questioned about his finances after extremely losing a libel case. The former English Defence League leader - and, convicted thug - had claimed he was bankrupt after losing the libel case brought against him by Jamal Hijazi, who had been filmed being attacked at school in 2018. Yaxley-Lennon, was very sued after falsely claiming in Facebook videos viewed by nearly one million sick racist scum that Hijazi was 'not innocent and he violently attacks young English girls in his school.' But, the court decided that he was and damages of one hundred grand were awarded to Jamal, who is now aged eighteen. His legal costs, which Yaxley-Lennon was also ordered to pay, were thought to be more than half-a-million knicker. Yaxley-Lennon was subsequently ordered to attend a hearing at the high court to be questioned by a lawyer for Hijazi - but failed to attend the hearing on Tuesday. Judge Dagnall said that there 'may well' be a reason for why Yaxley-Lennon was not present, but added 'that is for another day' and said he could only refer the matter to a high court judge to consider if there had been contempt. 'He knew perfectly well that this hearing was going to take place,' said Dagnall, adding that there had been 'a response' from an e-mail address that had been used to service notice to Yaxley-Lennon. He recalled that, at a previous hearing, it had been 'understood' that documents and orders would be served on Yaxley-Lennon by e-mail after Yaxley-Lennon had whinged that those living at his home address could be subject to threats 'in light of his political activities' if it were used to serve further documents and orders. The judge added that he had to 'dispense with a method of service' at Yaxley-Lennon's own request, telling the hearing: 'Anything that occurs with his e-mail inbox is very much down to him.'
France has charged seven youths over a massive robbery from a film crew shooting the new series of the hit Netflix heist series Lupin. The TV unit, along with the series' principal actor, Omar Sy, were filming in the Pablo-Picasso district of the Parisian suburb of Nanterre on an afternoon in late February when they were reportedly attacked by about twenty hooded assailants. The robbin' robbers launched fireworks at the crew before making off with equipment worth about three hundred thousand Euros. The teenagers and men charged on Friday, aged between thirteen and twenty one, are accused of 'armed robbery as part of an organised gang' and receiving stolen goods, prosecutors in Nanterre said. A 'source close to the investigation' - so, that'll be one of The Fuzz, presumably, told AFP that the youths were 'known to the police,' adding that some of the stolen equipment had been recovered in searches. Three of the arrested were being held in custody while four were under judicial supervision. Police are still searching for other members of the gang who are, currently, on the run. A contemporary take on the early-Twentieth Century Arsène Lupin, Gentleman Thief stories by Maurice Leblanc, Lupin was watched by millions of viewers when its first series was released on Netflix last year. It was the first French show to enjoy that level success with the US streaming giant.
Sir Mark Todd will face a disciplinary hearing on Thursday after a video on social media showed him hitting a horse with a branch. The former Olympic equestrian champion turned racehorse trainer was given an interim suspension last month. The sixty five-year-old New Zealander has snivellingly apologised for his actions. An independent panel of the British Horseracing Authority will consider whether his conduct was prejudicial to racing's reputation. Todd, who trains in Wiltshire, is accused of striking a horse multiple times with a tree branch on 29 August 2020. The video shows Todd hitting the horse - really hard - while attempting to coax it towards the water jump in a cross-country schooling session. He is unable to race horses while the interim suspension is in place.
A New Mexico county commissioner who founded a group called Cowboys For Trump was found extremely guilty by a judge on Tuesday of breaching the US Capitol during the 6 January 2021 failed insurrection, a second consecutive win at trial for the US Department of Justice. Following a two-day non-jury trial, the US district judge, Trevor McFadden, said that the defendant, Couy Griffin, was very guilty of one of the two misdemeanor offences. The ruling bolsters a key theory from prosecutors in hundreds of related cases. They argued that the Capitol grounds were 'strictly off-limits' and that should have been apparent to the thousands of now extremely former President Rump supporters who breached them in an attempt to stop Congress certifying Joe Biden's erection and cause mayhem, malarkey and discombobulation. The judge found Griffin guilty of entering a restricted area protected by the US Secret Service but cleared him of disorderly conduct. McFadden said that Griffin should have known not to scale walls and enter the Capitol grounds, but said Griffin was innocent of disorderly conduct because he never tried to 'rile up' the crowd at the Capitol or engage in any violence. McFadden scheduled a June sentencing hearing for Griffin, who faces up to a year behind bars for his naughty crime. Before the mob stormed the Capitol Rump, of course, gave a fiery speech in which he falsely claimed his erection defeat the previous November was the result of widespread fraud, an assertion rejected by multiple courts, state erection officials, members of his own administration and, indeed, anyone with a half-a-functioning-brain in their skull. Which, obviously, automatically excludes the majority of now extremely former President Rump's supporters. About eight hundred people face criminal charges relating to the failed insurrection, which sent the then-Vice-President, Mike Pence, and members of Congress running for their lives. Some two hundred have already pleaded very guilty and thrown their sorry asses upon the mercy of the courts. Griffin's bench trial is, according to the Gruniad Morning Star, 'seen as an important test case as the DoJ attempts to secure convictions of the hundreds of defendants who have not taken plea deals.' The first jury trial for a 6 January defendant ended in a decisive victory for prosecutors earlier this month. After a quick deliberation, a jury unanimously found a Texas man very guilty on all five of the felony charges he faced, including bringing a gun onto the Capitol grounds and obstructing an official proceeding. Guy Reffitt, a member of a right-wing militia group called the Texas Three Percenters, had threatened to shoot his own son for turning him in to The Feds. He could face up to twenty years in The Joint when he is sentenced in June.
Andy McCluskey remembers vividly - in a rather good piece in the Gruniad Morning Star - the first time he saw a Maurice Wade painting. The Orchestral Manoeuvres In The Dark co-founder (and From The North favourite) was at a gallery in Hale, Cheshire, enquiring about a different artwork altogether when it stopped him in his tracks. 'I walked in and there it was, "BOOM!"'he says. 'His paintings have a resonance for me on so many levels: the stark sense of black and white, the industrial landscapes, the melancholy ... I just went, "Woooah." And then I got a bit carried away.' In the decade since that first encounter, McCluskey has snapped up twenty one works by the little-known British painter. They currently cover pretty much all the wall space in his house ('I have no need for wallpaper'), although they're about to leave home to appear in a new exhibition, Silent Landscapes: The Andy McCluskey Collection. It is only the second exhibition of Wade's work in the past thirty years and one that McCluskey hopes will bring the late oil painter some much deserved attention. 'It's difficult to find out much about him,' says McCluskey. 'Nobody can even find a photograph of him. He’s quite mysterious.'
Two massive anniversaries coincide this year and, according to the Evening Crocodile, plans have been finalised to mark them together. Hadrian's Wall is celebrating its nineteen hundredth birthday, whilst it is also, of course, Her Maj The Queen's Platinum Jubilee, marking seventy years on the throne. The former is, clearly, the more important of the two. On Thursday 2 June, the communities of Hadrian's Wall will honour The Queen, by lighting beacons across the full length of the UNESCO World Heritage site. The celebration is part of The Queen's Platinum Jubilee Beacons, which is taking place across the whole of the UK. Those on Hadrian's Wall have been given special dispensation to be lit later than the rest of the country, in recognition of the scale and importance of the wall to the night's celebrations and its own big birthday. The lighting of Hadrian's Wall's beacons is the final item on the evening's itinerary, after more than fifteen hundred Platinum Jubilee beacons will be lit at 9.45pm. The day's activities start at 2pm with hundreds of town criers and fifty Pearly Kings and Queens ('Oi!') announcing a specially written Proclamation heralding the lighting of the beacons. At 9.35pm, traditional and Northumbrian pipers and pipe bands will play Diu Regnare, a unique composition specially written for the occasion by Piper Major, Stuart Liddell before buglers linked to local beacon lightings across the UK and capital cities of the Commonwealth will, officially, announce the lighting of the beacons with a bugle call entitled Majesty. this blogger has no idea what that one's all about. Then, to coincide with the lighting, community choirs across all nations will sing 'Song For The Commonwealth', which has been written and composed by Australia's Lucy Keily and Nigeria's Vincent Atueyi Chinemelu. Bruno Peek, the Pageantmaster Pursuivent of the Queen's Platinum Jubilee Beacons, said: 'Building on a long tradition of lighting beacons to mark significant royal celebrations, over fifteen hundred Platinum Jubilee Beacons will be lit across the UK and Commonwealth on the first evening of the four-day Jubilee Weekend. The Beacons will enable local communities to join together and pay tribute to Her Majesty as part of the official programme of events.' The Hadrian's Wall Platinum Jubilee Beacons have been listed as part of the Hadrian's Wall Nineteen Hundred Festival, which is taking place along the length of the wall throughout 2022.
The Crocodile also reports that Newcastle drinkers - and, there are many of them; just have a walk doon Th' Bigg Market on an average night for confirmation - have 'voiced their disappointment' that Stack will soon be closing for good so that a major office development can take its place. The Stack box park venue on Pilgrim Street in the city centre will shut on 2 May to make way for an office block that will house nine thousand staff from HMRC. The food, drink and shopping hub which is made up of shipping containers, opened on the former Odeon site four years ago to bring new retail and leisure operators to the city centre. It has been home to popular street food vendors including Acropolis and Bao Down over the years, but now businesses are serving up their final meals to customers before they move on from the site. Neill Winch, CEO of The Stack owners Danieli Group, confirmed that the venue will close to make way for the Pilgrim Place development works. However, Newcastle City Council has hinted that a new Stack site in the city could be in the pipeline as operators look at an alternative location. Cabinet member for Development, Neighbourhoods and Transport, Ged Bell, said: 'While always intended as a temporary development, Stack became an extremely popular addition to the city centre diversifying its offer and bringing back into use vacant land which had become an eyesore. This site forms part of a much larger area that in time will bring significant economic benefits and jobs to the city. We understand that the operators of Stack are looking at an alternative site in that part of the city centre.' But until a new site is revealed Newcastle drinkers have said it is a 'great shame' to lose the venue and 'raised concerns' about the impact it will have on the city's nightlife. And, you don't want to disappoint Newcastle drinkers, dear blog reader - you really wouldn't like them when they're angry. 
It has been reported that, when they were making Chinatown in 1973, Roman Polanski was in the garden of Jack Nicholson's Mulholland Drive home one evening after they'd had dinner, looking at lights of LA and the San Fernando Valley below. 'Los Angeles is the most beautiful city in the world,' Polanski told Jack. '... When seen from a distance and at night!' Personally, this blogger feels exactly the same way about Th' Toon! (Photo courtesy of the very excellent Ready Steady Shoot company of Sooth Shields whose website can be visited here.)
A sixteen-year-old from Oxford has been accused of being one of the leaders of cyber-crime gang Lapsus$. The teenager, who is alleged to have amassed a fourteen million bucks fortune from hacking, has been named by rival hackers and researchers. One wonders how he explained the size of his bank balance to relatives. 'A really good paper round'? City of London Police say they have arrested seven teenagers in relation to the gang but will not say if he is one of them. The boy's father told the BBC his family was 'concerned' and was trying to keep him away from his computers. He's got fourteen million dollars in the bank, mate, one imagines he can afford to buy more than a few.
P&O Ferries boss Peter Hebblethwaite has admitted to MPs that a decision to sack eight hundred workers last week without notice to their union broke the law. In one of the most buttock-clenchingly embarrassing examples of 'shooting yourself in the foot live on TV', he said there was 'absolutely no doubt' that, under UK employment law, the firm was required to consult unions before making the mass cuts. However, he said no union would have accepted the plan and it was 'easier' to compensate workers 'in full' instead. The Conservative chair of the Transport Committee urged him to resign. 'It's untenable to come to parliament and say you decided to break the law, you have no regrets,' Huw Merriman told Radio 4's World At One. 'We can't have companies run by people like that. So he needs to hand his card in.' The sackings sparked outrage after it emerged that staff will be replaced by foreign agency workers paid less than the minimum wage. Addressing a committee of MPs on Thursday, Hebblethwaite snivellingly apologised for the 'distress' caused by the sackings, but claimed they were 'necessary' to save the business which has been loss-making. One or two people even believed him. He said workers would receive 'extremely generous' compensation, although as part of these settlements they would forgo their right to pursue further legal action against P&O. As generosity goes, that's not especially generous. Asked whether P&O broke the law by not consulting the unions, Hebblethwaite waffled: 'It was our assessment that the change [to staffing] was of such a magnitude that no union could possibly accept our proposal. So as I say, I completely throw our hands up ... that we did choose not to consult.' He added: 'We did not believe there was any other way to do this and we are compensating people in full.' MPs were, visibly, aghast at his open admission that the business had 'chosen not to comply' with the legally-binding requirement to consult unions over planned redundancies. A representative of DP World, which owns P&O, said Hebblethwaite would not be sacked. Hebblethwaite, who earns over three hundred grand-a-year as a basic salary, claimed he 'could not say' whether he would get a performance-related bonus after the sackings. Not one single person believed that. Hebblethwaite said that the firm's new operating model was 'consistent with models throughout the globe and our competitors.' So, in other words 'our rivals are all low-paying, shifty scum so we thought we'd have a go at that, too.' By sacking its crews and taking on agency staff instead, he claimed the business would cut its wage bill in half. Following the hearing MP Darren Jones, who chairs the business committee, said he was 'amazed' by Hebblethwaite's evidence. The Labour MP added: 'He should be fined, struck off and prosecuted.' But, of course, he won't be because ... well, rich fuckers always get away with murder. That's the way the world works, dear blog reader- just to repeat, capitalism won. 'I am sickened and shocked by this man's arrogant explanation,' Jones added. 'I don't even know if I've got the right words for how I'm feeling inside.' Good God, this must be serious, an MP has been rendered speechless. That never happens - they've always got plenty to say, about everything. Meanwhile, transport secretary Grant Shapps said he would take action to prevent similar mass sackings without notice. But not to prevent this one, seemingly. He said the government would 'have a package of measures' to remove a 'loophole in the law' it believed had been 'exploited' by P&O. But there isn't a loophole in the law, mate, they broke the law - yer man Hebblescum just admitted so, live on TV. If anybody else breaks the law they get their sorry asses tossed into The Slammer for their naughty crimes. But, not rich fuckers, seemingly. One very much wonders why that is. Oh yeah, capitalism won, this blogger momentarily forgot. MPs on the committee also raised questions about the way P&O notified foreign governments that it was going to make the redundancies, which is also a legal requirement. The company informed authorities in Barbados, Bermuda and Cyprus on 17 March - but MPs said it should have done this sooner. On Wednesday, Boris Johnson told the Commons that 'it looks like' P&O breached a similar rule in the UK, but some employment lawyers have since cast doubt on that claim. The company denies it breached any rules in this regard. And, to paraphrase the late and much lamented Mandy-Rice Davies, 'well, they would, wouldn't they?' Once again, dear blog reader, it's worth reflecting on a truism that From The North has made reference to before. There are many good people in the world, dear blog reader. There are also some (though, thankfully, somewhat fewer) bad people. And then, there are some people that are just, simply, scum
And finally, dear blog readers, a trio of contenders for From The North's Headline Of The Week award. Firstly, a rather eye-watering one from the Daily Scum Mail - Man Who Cut Off His Penis & Put It In A Drawer Is Fighting For His Life. Probably a good idea not to lop yer own dong off in that case. It's unnecessary, bloody painful and, quite a bit messy, this blogger reckons.
Secondly, a particularly fine effort from the Coventry Telegraph, Woman Hunting Man Whose Name She Had Tattooed On Her Bum During A Girls' Holiday In Magaluf Ten Years Ago. And, seemingly, she even provided photographic evidence. Well, we've all done it at one time or another, be fair.
And, lastly, the Brighton Argus's Brighton City Council Speak On Couple's Sex Alley Hell. In which Council 'chiefs' have, reportedly, promised to consider blocking one end of 'a nightmare passageway' used by 'revellers' to have The Sex and 'go to the toilet.' But, residents are still not happy. And, in a sense, dear blog reader, are any of us ever, really, happy? No, thought not. See y'all next time. 

Condemn The Fault & Not The Actor Of It?

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The BBC has officially confirmed this week what many of us already knew, that the upcoming Doctor Who special Legend Of The Sea Devils will be broadcast on Easter Sunday, 17 April. The date had been taken-as-read by many fans for several months, with various online clues and comments from some of those involved in the production indicating that Bank Holiday Sunday would be 'the right fit' for Jodie Whittaker's penultimate adventure.
And, the spectacularly-redesigned Sea Devils themselves do, indeed, look extremely spiffing.
Doctor Who' upcoming special will see The Doctor (that's, err, still Jodie Whittaker - you knew that, right?), Yaz (Mandip Gill) and Dan (Large-Toothed Scouse funster John Bishop) come face-to-face with The Sea Devils who have, apparently, turned to piracy on the South China Sea almost four decades after their last appearance in the BBC's popular long-running family SF drama. If you had any doubt about The Sea Devils' fearsomeness, Mandip revealed to the Radio Times that she suffered a minor injury - very minor, if you were wondering - whilst facing off with the aquatic reptiles in a sword-fighting scene. 'We have this really amazing stunt and they hurt my finger and I can't stop thinking about it!' Mandip said at the Radio Times Covers Party. 'I was like, "I actually hurt my finger because of a Sea Devil." Not many people get to say that.' So, that was what you were 'like' was it, young lady? Does anyone else get really effing irritated with the young people of today and their seeming inability to use the word 'said' in conversations about their personal experiences? This blogger would go so far as to say that he was, like, 'what's all this "I was like, you know and then he was all, like, you know..."stuff and nonsense?' Seriously, dear blog reader, that malarkey really grates this blogger's cheese.
From The North favourite Karen Gillan has spoken about a possible return to the show for Amy Pond. During a WIREDinterview, one of the most Googled questions seemed to be 'Will Karen Gillan return to Doctor Who?', which prompted Kazza to offer a reply: 'Never say never. If I was asked, I would be really interested and keen. It would be amazing. I would like to do it with Matt Smith and Arthur Darvill, if I was gonna go back.' During a preceding question she also revealed that, despite her burgeoning movie career, she still 'missed' being part of the BBC's popular long-running family SF drama. 'I was twenty one years old [when I joined], so a baby,' she said. 'That was the big break of my career. I went from not working very much as an actor to being in a very beloved show in the UK and I miss it so much, actually.'
Meanwhile, dear blog reader, here's a particularly excellent image of Kazza her very self. With something hot and throbbing between her thighs.
Gareth Roberts has revealed that he will not be writing for Doctor Who under Russell Davies' forthcoming tenure. When asked by a fan whether we could expect to see another script from him any time soon, Roberts reportedly responded: 'I would rather stick my cock in a blender.' A little bit over-the-top there, Gareth, mate - a simple 'no' would've probably worked just as well. Roberts has previously written a number of episodes for the BBC's popular long-running family SF drama, including The Shakespeare Code and The Unicorn & The Wasp. Both of which this blogger thought were rather good. And, The Lodger and Closing Time. Which, whilst both had their fun moments, broadly speaking this blogger believed weren't - not least because they both featured Bloody James Bloody Corden. In June 2019, it was announced - by the Gruniad Morning Star - if not anyone that actually matters - that Roberts' contribution for a Doctor Who short story collection had been dropped by BBC Publishing due to previous, alleged, 'transphobic' tweets sent by the author, as well as the threat from other writers involved in the project to withdraw their contributions. Roberts responded with a blog post on Medium in which he stated: 'I don't believe in gender identity. It is impossible for a person to change their biological sex.' Ah, The JK Rowling defence. Please, let us all know how that works out. It needs to be noted, however, that Gareth's scathing comments about the - alleged - 'comedy'The Mash Report during 2021 were pretty much in-line with this blogger's own views of the same subject - 'dull, self-satisfied conformity masquerading as daring and revolutionary.' He's not wrong, you know.
The latest issue of The New Statesman - guest edited by From The North favourite Michael Sheen - includes a rather splendid Q&A featuring another From The North favourite, The Godlike Genius Of Neil Gaiman, entitled As Long As There's A TARDIS, All's Right With The World. In it, Neil reveals his earliest memory: 'My grandmother taking me to a bridge in my pushchair to watch the steam trains go by. I was twenty three months old. I also remember her venting, months later, about The Beatles song 'She Loves You' and how their use of the word "yeah" instead of "yes" meant we were now all living in the end times.' And, who his heroes were and, indeed, still were: 'As a boy I loved urbane and unflappable literary characters, such as PG Wodehouse's Rupert Psmith and indomitable heroes on television - Adam West's Batman, Adam Adamant [Lives], Doctor Who and The Monkees. When I was a teenager The Stranglers released 'No More Heroes' around the same time that David Bowie sang '"Heroes"' [they actually came out in the same month]. I listened to them both and thought we are meant to be our own heroes.' As you would expect, the piece is well worth a read, dear blog reader. Although Neil didn't manage to squeeze in a mention for his close personal fiend, Keith Telly Topping anywhere!
Neil also noted, when asked what was the best piece of advice he had ever received: 'Probably when Harlan Ellison told me that if I rub conditioner on my stubble before shaving it will make shaving much easier. Yes, I have followed it. Yes, it works.'
The - small-screen - finale of From The North favourite Peaky Blinders will be broadcast on Sunday and will be an extended (eighty one minute) episode which will, hopefully, set up the themes for the movie adaptation which is to follow. Last week's penultimate episode, meanwhile, got a glowing review from the Gruniad Morning Star, not least for the episode's extensive use of Patti Smith's cover of 'Red Right Hand', recorded specially for the popular period gangster drama.
And, speaking of excellent usage of popular music in BBC dramas, congratulations to another From The North favourite, Killing Eve, whose most recent episode - 'It's Agony & I'm Ravenous' - included the original, French language, version of Vicky Leandros's 'L'Amour Est Bleu', a particular favourite of all of us here at From The North. This blogger, however is somewhat troubled. Because, he always wondered how Vicky, who was Greek, managed to qualify to sing Luxembourg's entry for Eurovision? Twice. Couldn't they find any Luxembourgeoises with a decent voice to represent them those particular years?
Danny Boyle's eagerly awaited Sex Pistols TV series, Pistol, will reportedly premiere in the UK on Disney+ on Tuesday 31 May. The six-part series is based on Steve Jones' acclaimed 2018 memoir Lonely Boy: Tales From A Sex Pistol and was filmed in London last year. In August, John Lydon extremely lost a High Court battle to stop The Sex Pistols' music from being used in the drama. As the man once said, 'what a fuckin' rotter!'Pistol stars Toby Wallace as Jones, Anson Boon as Johnny Rotten, Louis Partridge as Sid Vicious and Jacob Slater as Paul Cook. Other cast members include The Queen's Gambit and Game Of Thrones actor Thomas-Brodie Sangster as Malcolm McLaren, Westworld's Tallulah Riley as Vivienne Westwood, Christian Lees as Glen Matlock and Iris Law makes her screen debut as Soo Catwoman. Dylan Llewellyn plays Wally Nightingale, Sydney Chandler appears as Chrissie Hynde, Emma Appleton has been cast as Nancy Spungen and From The North favourite Maisie Williams plays Jordan Mooney.
Laura Kuenssberg - comfortable hate figure for Middle Class hippy Communist Corbynites everywhere - is to replace Andrew Marr as the host of the BBC's flagship Sunday morning politics show. The journalist is taking over the role after announcing her decision to step down as the BBC's political editor last December. The BBC said that she would join the new-look Sunday morning show in September. It comes months after her headline-grabbing interview with Boris Johnson's former chief adviser Dominic Cummings. 'I couldn't be more delighted,' Laura said in a statement. 'For decades Sunday morning has been the moment to explore the events that shape us and to challenge and listen to our politicians. It's an honour to take the chair for that conversation in the 2020s.' Interim director of BBC News Jonathan Munro said: 'Laura's the perfect host for our flagship weekend politics show - she's an engaging presenter and a razor-sharp political interviewer and she knows exactly which questions audiences want answered.' Well, except for Middle Class hippy Communist Corbynites, obviously. Other names thought to have been in the running for the high-profile job included BBC News presenter Sophie Raworth, who has presented an interim replacement programme since Marr's departure. Woman's Hour host Emma Barnett and Today programme presenter Mishal Husain were also said to be in contention. Albeit, 'said to be in the running' by people who, clearly, didn't have a frigging clue what they were talking about and were simply, you know, guessing. A bit like all that 'Hugh Grant is going to be the next Doctor. Or, maybe not' bollocks we spoke about - at length - during the last blog update. Marr quit the show which bore his name last year, claiming that he wanted to get his 'own voice back.' He has since become chief political commentator at The New Statesman and taken on presenting roles at LBC and Classic FM; so, it seemed to getting his own voice back involved making a ton of cash moving to the commercial sector. It's very much all the rage at the Beeb these days, all the cool kids are doing it. Kuenssberg took over from Nick Robinson as the BBC's political editor in 2015, becoming the first woman to hold the position. Her tenure has encompassed a tumultuous period in British politics, which included the Scottish Independence Referendum, Brexit, two UK general erections and the Covid-19 pandemic. Her last assignment as political editor will be covering the local erections in May. A successor has yet to be revealed, but an announcement is expected in the coming weeks. The Sunday morning politics show is a staple of British political discourse. Marr hosted it for sixteen years, taking over from Sir David Frost, who was presenter from 1993 to 2005.
It's A Sin is leading the charge for this year's BAFTA TV Awards, with eleven nominations. Big Rusty's Channel Four drama, about a group of gay friends during the 1980s AIDs crisis, is up for categories including best mini-series plus five acting awards. Olly Alexander is nominated for best actor, Lydia West for best actress and Omari Douglas, Callum Scott Howells and David Carlyle all for best supporting actor. Other shows with multiple nominations include Time, Help and Sex Education. The nominations for the Must-See Moment, the only accolade to be voted for by the public, were announced last week. They include Rose and Giovanni's silent dance on Strictly Come Dancing, Adele's reunion with her former teacher on An Audience With Adele and Ant And/Or Dec's sarky dig at Downing Street's lockdown parties on I'm A Z-List Former Celebrity Desperate To Get My Boat-Race Back On TV ... Please Vote For Me To Stay Here As Long As Possible (I'll Even Eat Worms If You Want). Strictly Come Dancing and the recently cancelled Ant And/Or Dec's Saturday Night Takeaway will do battle in the best entertainment programme category alongside last year's winner Life & Rhymes and An Audience With Adele. The late comedian Sean Lock is nominated for best entertainment performance for Eight Out Of Ten Cats Does Countdown, alongside Alison Hammond, Big Zuu, Graham Norton, Joe Lycett and Michael McIntyre. Lycett also fronts The Great British Sewing Bee, which was nominated in the 'features' category. Also in the running for the comedy entertainment award is The Lateish Show With Mo Gilligan. Holby City has been nominated for best soap/continuing drama, just a day after the long-running BBC medical drama broadcast its final episode. It is up against sister soap Casualty, along with Coronation Street and Emmerdale. Two thirds of the nominees in the performance categories have not been nominated before, as BAFTA organisers bid to support new talent. Best actress nominee West has stiff competition from Kate Winslet, who has received her first TV BAFTA nomination for Mare Of Easttown, plus Denise Gough and Emily Watson for ITV's Too Close, Jodie Comer for Channel Four's Help and Niamh Algar for Deceit. Alongside Alexander in the leading actor category is David Thewlis for Sky's dark comic crime drama Landscapers, which was the second most-nominated programme with seven. However, they do not include an acting nomination for Olivia Colman, who played Thewlis's wife. Also in the running are Hugh Quarshie for ITV's Stephen, Samuel Adewunmi for BBC's You Don't Know Me, Sean Bean for Time and Stephen Graham for Help. The latter, written by Jack Thorne, is about a carer (Comer) who bonds with a patient (Graham) as the care home residents and staff face the challenges of the pandemic. The critically-acclaimed drama received six nominations in total, as did Jimmy McGovern's terminally miserable prison drama Time, which earned Graham his second nomination of the year for best supporting actor. Channel Four's groundbreaking music comedy We Are Lady Parts also received six nominations, while Netflix's Sex Education had five. The BAFTA nominations also include technical categories. Those prizes will be awarded at the BAFTA Craft awards on 24 April. BBC drama A Very British Scandal scored four nominations including costume design and make-up and hair design, but there was no acting recognition for its stars Claire Foy and Paul Bettany. The final series of Line Of Duty was nominated for three craft prizes, but there were no acting nominations for the cast or for creator Jed Mercurio despite the show being, by a considerable distance, the most-watched TV drama of last year. Love Island also missed out in the reality and constructed factual category. Channel Four shows Gogglebox and Dog House will go head-to-head alongside E4's Married At First Sight UK and BBC3's RuPaul's Drag Race UK. The best drama series nominees are In My Skin, ITV's Manhunt: The Night Stalker and Unforgotten and BBC's Vigil. In the hotly-contested best international category, Succession will take on Call My Agent, Squid Game, Lupin, Mare Of Easttown and The Underground Railroad.
The words of Ukrainian refugees and a performance by the country's 2016 Eurovision-winning singer provided the, if you will, 'highlights' as a televised concert in Birmingham in aid of Ukraine raised over twelve million smackers. Ed Sheeran, Camila Cabello and Emeli Sande were among the artists performing at Concert For Ukraine. As if those poor people haven't suffered enough already.
Russian President Vlad The Small is being 'misled' by advisers who are 'too scared' to tell him how badly the war in Ukraine is going, The White House has claimed. This may also explain, they added, Vlad's apparent inability to grasp just how many people know about his teeny-weeny-sized dong. Meanwhile, British intelligence says Russian troops in Ukraine are demoralised, short of equipment and refusing to carry out orders. Vlad The Small is also not being told about the full impact of sanctions on the Russian economy, The White House added. Nor that, as his mother seemingly never told him, it's not size that's important but what you do with it that counts. The Kremlin whinged the US had a 'total misunderstanding' of the situation and that, actually, Vlad The Small's willy is, actually, bloody enormous.
The chair of the BBC has suggested the public may overstate their appetite for impartial news, in the same way that 'ninety nine per cent of people say they wash their hands after going to the loo.' Richard Sharp said his organisation is 'facing the joint challenges' of stopping audiences drifting away to more partisan news outlets whilst, at the same time, warning that the BBC's ability to provide accurate information is under threat because of funding cuts. 'Impartial news may be too unprofitable to do properly,' Sharp said at a panel event organised by the Social Market Foundation thinktank, suggesting this will lead commercial news organisations to increasingly seek more partisan stances. He said the reality of what people actually click on or watch increasingly leans towards provocative and sensational content, making it harder for the BBC to judge whether its output is connecting with audiences. 'Around nine out of ten adults say that impartial news is more important than coverage that reflects their point of view. But we also have to bear in mind, whether apocryphal or not, that ninety nine per cent of people say they wash their hands after going to the loo.' Asked whether the corporation is able to afford the costs of meeting the expected standards of its news output, Sharp added: 'It's a real challenge, you need research capabilities and we've had to cut back some of the resources available. Which is why I disagree with the government on the licence fee - it's damaging to the BBC, there's no doubt it'll have an effect.' Further cuts to BBC services are expected to be announced in May, with executives currently working out what needs to be cut in the wake of the government's latest below-inflation licence fee deal. This follows more than a decade of staff redundancies and internal reorganisations caused by repeated cuts to the fee. Sharp said he believed there was a gap in the market for the BBC's type of journalism as commercial news organisations become increasingly polarised, although the risk is that audiences drift away to more partisan, scummishly right-wing outlets such as Billionaire Tyrant Rupert Murdoch's forthcoming talkTV. Sharp cited a conversation with an - unnamed - individual at a British financial newspaper (so, that's be the Financial Times, then) who said seventy per cent of their online stories were not read by anyone. As a result, he is placing faith in incoming BBC news boss Deborah Turness to 'weaponise impartiality' and make it the corporation's selling point to audiences. Her arrival has been repeatedly delayed while her current employer - ITN - continues to make her serve out her notice period. He highlighted the success of viral explainers by the BBC's Ros Atkins and suggested they might point towards 'a commercial opportunity for the BBC globally.' He also said the corporation was impartial when it came to coverage of the war in Ukraine: 'It's about truth. Our value to Russians and Ukrainians is to report the truth, no matter how inconvenient that may be.'
Noel Clarke will not face a criminal investigation over sexual offence allegations, police have said. The Metropolitan Police claimed there is not enough evidence against him. Which will, one presumes, come as a considerable surprise to lots of people at the Gruniad Morning Star. And, really pissed off many women's rights activists. In 2021, the Gruniad published allegations of misconduct from twenty women who had previously worked with Clarke. The incidents included complaints of groping and sexual misconduct between 2004 and 2019. Clark has denied all the allegations. The Met has released a statement saying 'special' detectives had carried out a 'thorough assessment' of the claims, but 'determined the information would not meet the threshold for a criminal investigation.' Exactly what was so special about these 'special' detectives and how, if they're so special, they'd couldn't scrap up enough evidence to at least present to a court, The Met did not reveal.
The sixtieth anniversary of The Rolling Stones (a popular beat combo of the 1960s, 70s, 80s, 90s, 2000s, et cetera, you might've heard of them) will be marked by four new BBC documentaries telling the band's story from the perspectives of different members. The future rock and/or roll legends first performed on 12 July 1962 at London's Marquee Club. New interviews will feature in separate hour-long documentaries focusing on Sir Mick The Jag, Saint Keef Richards and Rockin' Ronnie Wood. There will also be a similar film using archive interviews with - and tributes to - the late Charlie Watts. The equally late Brian Jones, Bill Wyman and Mick Taylor all get nowt, seemingly. As well as the four-part series - titled My Life As A Rolling Stone - the BBC season will include a Radio 2 documentary, Rolling With The Stones, featuring rare interviews and performances.
When they made the - shocking (and stunning) - announcement that their flagship film review show on BBC 5Live was to end, there was an outpouring of grief and a great wailing and gnashing of teeth all across the land (and far beyond). Nevertheless, both From The North favourite Mark Kermode and From The North favourite Simon Mayo were keen to stress that 'it'll be all right in the end. And, if it's not all right, then it's not the end.' Or, in other words, as they made very clear on the following week's episode, that they were simply moving location (probably to the commercial sector - remember, all the cool kids are doing it) rather than jacking it in altogether. And so, on Friday 1 April, after twenty one years of presenting their flagship format on the Beeb, the final episode of Kermode & Mayo's Film Review was broadcast. It featured everything you'd expect from The Church Of Wittertainment; loads of 'Hello To' Jason Isaacs (hot-foot from Toronto); one of yer man Kermode's trademark spectacular eye-popping rants (concerning the truly wretched-sounding Morbius); one of Simon's usual perceptive and well-handled interviewed (with Daniel Radcliffe and Sandra Bullock ... and no Naomi Watts); some listener-requested 'greatest hits'; much good humour; DVD Of The Week and, after the climax (Mark got the final words - 'boom-tish', which seems utterly fitting), a brand new podcast was announced, titled Kermode & Mayo's Take. And, Simon, reportedly, had his BBC security pass cancelled by an over-zealous jobsworth before he'd even left the building. Shameful. The duo shared a clip of themselves of Twitter - drowned-out by birdsong but, nevertheless - directing listeners to the new podcast's new official website. Bookmark it, instantly, dear blog reader. This blogger has. They are now having a few weeks off and will return with the new podcast on 5 May. 'As well as the film and TV reviews, Mark and Simon will be talking about anything and everything,' suggests the website. So, no change there, then? 'Punctuation, Thunderbirds, obscure German pop music, fax machines, subtitles, MRI scans, magic, school assemblies, Scandinavia and don't forget the dad jokes.' Which suggests that DVD Of The Week, at least, will be continuing. But what about many listeners' favourite slot (much to Kermode's chagrin), WTF? Can it really be gone? Yeah, looks like it! The new show will be produced in partnership with Sony Music Entertainment's Global Podcast Division. It will, reportedly, be released twice weekly and will focus on theatrical, streaming and physical film releases, as well as 'high-level global television in the UK and US.' Oh, the dramatic irony - Mark, you may recall, was a man who, until a few years ago claimed that he watched hardly any TV (except for Doctor Who and UFO). Anyway, this blogger - a fan of the duo since they first worked together of Radio 1 back in the 1990s - would like to, sincerely, thank Mark and Simon for making his life slightly more bearable for the last twenty one years and to celebrate that our - long-distance - relationship is set to continue. See, dear blog reader, it's not all crap news in the world at the moment. Just, mostly.
Moving on, to more domestic matters. For us Sunday luncheon at The Stately Telly Topping Manor Plague House, Keith Telly Topping had some homemade beef curry with garlic bread and basmati rice. Monumental, so it was, in its geet lushness dear blog readers. Goes without saying, really.
On Monday, as previously mentioned, this blogger was required to leave the safety and comfort of The Stately Telly Topping Manor Plague House and travel (by bus) to Waaker Medical Centre for the first of three consecutive days of being medically pricked and prodded (and squirted in the eyes with vile stingy stuff on the Wednesday into the bargain). Monday, as it happens, was the easy part of the three (relatively speaking), a simple consultation with the - ever excellent - Doctor Nasir to get some updates on his current health status, have a right good whinge about still feeling tired, fatigued and well-grotty all the sodding time - and to get another 'Fit Note' for the following four week. Doctor Nasir was, as always, pure dead lovely and this blogger even got to thank him, this time in person, for sending Keith Telly Topping forthwith to hospital when he did. As this blogger has said in the past, if it has been left up to his very self, he'd probably be either very seriously ill or, indeed, being fitted up for a wooden overcoat by now. Thence, of course, it was straight back to The Stately Telly Topping Manor Plague House because this blogger was feeling even more tired and fatigued than usual. That's what leaving home when you're supposed to be resting can do to you dear blog reader. This blogger's advice, for what it's worth, is to avoid the temptation to leave home, wherever possible.
The hospital out-patients visit on Tuesday went fine - this blogger met Doctor Sarah again whom he had previously seen when he was incarcerated in the gaff last month. We had a chat about those symptoms which this blogger has that are continuing to affect him (the fatigue, mainly and, also, things like the numbness of the extremities and a faster-than-usual heart-rate) and those which have somewhat lessened (notably this blogger's suppressed appetite). Keith Telly Topping then got weighed and found he was seven pounds up on the last time this had been done - when he'd only just come out of hospital as was at his lowest point in terms of the suppressed appetite. This being the first occasion in his life that this blogger has been happy to have put on a bit of weight! Several vials of blood were then taken (six, to be precise). Keith Telly Topping, of course, promptly did the fullHancock's Half Hour routine ('that's very nearly an armful!') followed by this blogger continuing in the classic British TV sitcom vein and, given that he is now anaemic, turning briefly into John Le Mesurier ('are you sure that's wise?') Anyway, Doctor Sarah confirmed that pernicious anaemia can take several month's worth of treatment (if not, indeed, longer) before any obvious improvement is noticed by the patient and a further out-patients appointment was arranged for approximately two months time.
And this, dear blog readers, very nearly was an armful.
Thankfully, the injection to remove all of that hyper-anaemic blood knacked somewhat less than the series of several B-12 shots which this blogger had recently (mainly, Doctor Sarah helpfully explained, because the needle went into a vein this time rather than directly into muscle).
Leaving the hospital, because this blogger hadn't had anything to eat since breakfast, he limped down to the very excellent Little Asia on Stowell Street for a rather lush luncheon three-courser. Which was jolly nice. Even though this blogger was utterly exhausted and in serious need of a lie down, he had to break his journey home and call into Morrisons for milk, bread and cereal. Then, finally, it was back to the Stately Telly Topping Manor Plague House for a - very well-deserved and much-needed - rest. It looks like this is Keith Telly Topping's life for the next few months, dear blog reader. This blogger will have to get used to that.
Ah, the Little Asia. The trip took this blogger back to happier times, when it used to be called The Mandarin and this blogger dined there, fairly regularly, with various fiends and family. Still, the change of name has done nowt to spoil the contents of the menu. Which remain pure dead lush.
This blogger's three-courser, incidentally, consisted of, firstly, chicken and sweetcorn soup with prawn crackers.
Then,  spare ribs in a really tasty (and rather tangy) Cantonese sweet-and-sour sauce.
And, for the main course, for once something not-even-remotely-prawny but, instead, beef curry with egg fried rice (and, a very welcome glass of refreshing iced-water).
All of which, of course, this blogger really deserved. As if there was ever any doubt about such shenanigans.
This blogger has, already, made some tentative arrangements with his good fiend, Young Malcolm, for a return visit to The Joint in a few weeks time. When, hopefully, this blogger will be feeling a bit less tired and shagged-out.
Then, there was Wednesday and this blogger's annual diabetes eye-test. Well, that was absolutely terrible, Nurse Wendy being very nice and chatty and acknowledging the unpleasantness of the nasty stingy stuff going in this blogger's eyes to dilate the pupils notwithstanding. Viddy well, malchicks and devotchkas. This blogger couldn't viddy well at the time on account of his glazzies having been well-squirted with the nasty stingy stuff. Horrorshow.
The good news is that this blogger's eyes still appear to be okay. Not that he could see anything out of them for the next several hours to confirm this. The bad news was trying to do the Metro crossword on the way back to The Stately Telly Topping Manor Plague House with both this blogger's pupils well-and-truly resembling one of the late David Bowie's (you know which one) and every time someone walked past him on the bus, vapour trails coming off them. Plus, the clue to twenty five down was 'in poor health, weak.' This blogger tried putting in 'Keith Telly Topping' as an answer but it was only five letters (it was 'frail' if you're wondering).
The Metroscope for Scorpio didn't help either. 'As The Moon forges a harmonious aspect with Neptune' [which 'harmonious aspect of Neptune', the Metroscope didn't say. Perhaps it was the one thousand miles per hour winds which whip around the surface of the Ice Giant] 'you'll know what's going through someone's mind.' [Am I effing Derren Brown now, or what?] 'Your sensitivity can kick-in' [not after having my eyes squirted with nasty stingy stuff it bloody well won't] 'and you'll have a better understanding of their motives.' [Like a Middle Class hippy Comminist Gruniad Morning Star reading quiche eater, no doubt.] 'And, if there may be a hint of romance involved, things could take a deeper turn.' Who wrote this utter horsecrap? Oh yes, Patrick Arundell. He gets his money for nowt, dear blog reader. And, he's got considerable form in the spouting bullshit department.
A message to whomsoever was in charge of the weather on Thursday of this week. What the Hell are you playing at? It's almost April, this is supposed to be spring not the depths of winter. Get it sorted, willya?
Now dear blog reader a new, semi-regular, From The North feature, Great Moments In TV History. Number One: 25 May 1990 saw the first appearance of The Man With The Stick on Vic Reeves Big Night Out.
Followed, somewhat inevitably, by the latest From The North Thought For The Day.
Or, alternatively, a special From The North observation on the occasion of Mothering Sunday.
A prisoner who escaped from custody wearing nothing but his underwear and socks is now believed to have changed his appearance. Dorset Police said Kyle Darren Eglington assaulted a security officer in Hardy Road, Poole, on Saturday before making off from a prison van. Searches are continuing and officers believe since absconding he has shaved his head and beard. Plus, unless he's managed to obtain some clothes, he's likely to be somewhat blue in this current chilly weather. The force said he should not be approached.
A man claims he was 'forced' to hack into a domestic Indian airline's website to find his missing luggage. Nandan Kumar called IndiGo - a low-cost carrier - for help, after realising that he had swapped his bag with a co-passenger. But, after IndiGo refused to help him trace the other person, Kumar said he was able to retrieve information about him from the airline website. IndiGo told the BBC that 'at no point was the IndiGo website compromised.' One or two people even believed them. Kumar says he is not 'a professional hacker' - merely an amateur one - but had to 'do something' to retrieve his luggage.
The new Royal Research Ship Sir David Attenborough is proving its capabilities as an icebreaker. On its first outing to the Antarctic, the two hundred million knicker polar vessel - popularly known as Boaty McBoatface - has been smashing through thick frozen floes. A final assessment of its performance is still awaited, but the Attenborough is now very close to being declared a fully serviceable ship for science and logistics at the highest latitudes. The vessel will soon return to the UK. For the moment it continues to work around the White Continent. When it does come back, it will go into a yard for maintenance and upgrades. The Sir David Attenborough went through formal ice trials during a ten-day period in January. The British Antarctic Survey engaged Finnish engineering consultants Aker Arctic to oversee the work. The trials involved pushing the ship through floes at various power levels. The vessel also had to perform a range of manoeuvres, including reversing, turning, as well conducting impact tests at different speeds.
They've nicknamed it Earendel and it is the most distant, single star yet imaged by a telescope. The light from this object has taken 12.9 billion years to reach Earth. It is at the sort of distance that telescopes normally would only be able to resolve galaxies containing millions of stars. But the Hubble space observatory has picked out Earendel individually by exploiting a natural phenomenon that's akin to using a zoom lens. It is called gravitational lensing and it works like this: If there is a great cluster of galaxies in the line of sight, the gravitational pull from this mass of matter will bend and magnify the light of more distant objects behind. Usually, this is just other galaxies, but in this specific case Earendel was in a sweetspot in the lens effect. 'We got lucky. This is really extreme; it's really exciting to find something with such a high magnification,' said Brian Welch, a PhD student from Johns Hopkins University. 'If you happen to hit that right sweetspot, like we have in this case, the magnification can grow up to factors of thousands,' he toldBBC News. The previous record-setter was a star called Icarus. Again, captured by Hubble, the light from this star took nine billion years to reach Earth. Earendel is therefore significantly further away. We are seeing it a mere nine hundred million years after The Big Bang, or at a time when the Universe was only six per cent of its current age.
Apparently, dear blog readers, there have been some interesting and significant developments related to the Solar System announced this week. Shocking. And, indeed, stunning.
Moving swiftly on to the subject of social media, this blogger does rather wish that The US Singers (no, me neither) would stop their incessant obfuscating comments and tell us all what they really think about now-extremely-former President Mister Rump.
This blogger also wishes to illustrate, with the following image, that feeling one experiences when, without warning, a hamster suddenly runs up ones trouser leg. It's a dirty job, dear blog reader, but someone's got to do it.
According to an interview in the NME, From The North favourite yer actual Nick Cave has claimed that he gets mixed up with Nic Cage 'all the time.' Apart from the slight similarities in the two names, however, that's rather difficult to believe. They're clearly very different. One of these two men, for instance, is a borderline genius whose words reflect, with chilling accuracy, all of the inherent darkness and catastrophic strangeness in life. The other is some Aussie singer ...
During this particular week in 2006, the former Smiths singer Morrissey released his solo single 'You Have Killed Me'. And, as you can see, he and several members of his - furiously protective - fan club, were really happy with the results.
This blogger is utterly indebted to one of his fine Facebook fiends who reposted the following example of Twitterisationisms. Personally, this blogger has never tried vagina. Anyone out there amongst you dear blog readers know what it tastes like?
Friday of this week saw a bit of excitement in the area, with not one but two fire appliances turning up in the street outside The Stately Telly Topping Manor Plague House. This blogger would, under any normal circumstances, have been cracking jokes at this juncture about someone wanting their chips done a bit more deeply-fried than this blogger traditionally likes them. But, the last time there was a house fire in the area which this blogger mentioned - rather glibly - on a From The North update, it turned out to be a much more serious incident than this blogger had, at first, assumed. So, this time, he's taking no chances in the glibness department.
And now, dear blog reader in this very Oscar week - complete, this year, with punching and aal sorts - a few nominations for the latest From The North Headline Of The Week award. Firstly, Plymouth Man Says He's Been Plagued By Potholes For Six Years. Oh nasty. You want to get some cream on that, mate and then seek advice from your local medical professional. Take it from one who knows, you'll thank this blogger in the long-run.
Secondly, the Banbury Guardian's 'Stop Focusing On Vegetarian Food & Repair The Roads' Says Woman After [A] Bad Fall On Banbury High Street - Letters. 'This accident would not have happened if those Middle Class hippy Communists at the council had stuck to meat as the Lord intended,' presumably?
Thirdly, Devon Live's Tiverton Yobs Are Egging Shops & Spray Painting Willies. You simply don't see anywhere near enough uses of the word 'yobs' in newspaper these days, do you? But, also, it's difficult to work out which of these two examples of anti-social behaviour the complainer, Tiverton Mayor Sue Griggs, is the most upset about. On reflection, it's got to be the willies, hasn't it?
The Coventry Telegraph's majestic Police Capture Swan That Wreaked Havoc For Commuters On Coventry Ring Road is also a good one. It's so nice to see, is it not dear blog reader, a swan reenacting an entire plotline from one of this blogger's favourite movies. 'No luck catching those swans, then?'
The Arlington Catholic Heraldquotes Pope Frankie The First in a recent proclamation, stating that 'confession is more about God's forgiveness than our sins.' This blogger always believed it was more about repression, guilt and punishment, much like pretty much everything else in Catholicism.
The Daily Scum Mail's Fitting End For One Of Australia's Worst Paedophiles: How Predator Who Raped Nine Girls As Young As Six & Was Questioned Over A Child's Disappearance Died Alone In Jail - Sitting In His Own Faeces is also worthy of comment. Mostly, the relief one feels that, for once, they didn't feel it necessary to crowbar into the report how much his cell cost him.
Congratulations are considerably due to the Metro's headline writer for managing to get the words 'beat off' into a story about a member of The Fuzz allegedly caught tossing off in public. Bobby On The Beat Off To The Cells After Getting Intimate With Himself In A Park.
And then, dear blog reader, there's this cover of a recent issue pf That's Life magazine. Which is always good for a headline-related laugh.
Of course, none of these fine efforts even come close to matching the following legendary item from the International Herald Tribune, quite possibly the single worst-written news report in the history of journalism. And, let's face it, it's got some serious competition.
Mind you, when it came to Joyce McKinney and the stories about her in the tabloids, even the Gruniad Morning Star's atypically offensive and slapable holier-than-thou sanctimoniousness had some justification. Because, as we have noted so many times in the past, even a broken clock is correct twice a day.
An uninhabited Scottish island where government scientists once conducted experiments with Anthrax has been hit by a fire. A really big fire. People who saw the inferno on Gruinard Island from the mainland described the scene as 'apocalyptic.' They said the uninhabited island off Scotland's North-West coast was ablaze from 'one end to the other' on Saturday evening. The island was used for germ warfare experiments during World War Two. It was declared free of Anthrax by the Ministry of Defence in April 1990. One or two people even believed them.
Forecasters have raised the temperature at which a heatwave is declared in several areas of England. And, summer is now no longer defined as 'four hot days in a row in July and a couple of nice afternoons in August', apparently. The Met Office defines a heatwave as when 'an area experiences daily maximum temperatures meeting or exceeding a certain level for three days in a row.' Eight counties have had these limits raised by the forecaster by 1°C. Announcing the change, experts said that climate data showed 'undeniable warming' in the UK accompanying increasing greenhouse gas emissions. The new limits are: 28°C in Surrey, Berkshire, Buckinghamshire, Bedfordshire, Hertfordshire and Cambridgeshire, 27°C in Lincolnshire, 26°C in the East Riding of Yorkshire and anything slightly above 0°C on Tyneside. What defines a heatwave is linked to historical climate data. The UK has been experiencing rising average temperatures in recent years as a result of global warming. Previous thresholds used data from 1981 to 2010, but the new limits are based on the period between 1991 and 2020, the Met Office said.
There have been few comediennes in theatre and television as good as Denise Coffey, who died this week aged eighty five. She was a key TV presence in British comedy over its most redefining post-war period and to see her on stage - always puckish and delightful - was to invest in two or three hours of an invaluable spiritual tonic. She was a crucial member of the ebullient Young Vic company formed in 1970 under the aegis of the National Theatre at the Old Vic to deliver classics and new plays appealing to a younger audience. She had already, in the 1960s, played a series of roles at Bernard Miles's Mermaid Theatre. She emerged at the Young Vic, under Frank Dunlop's direction, trailing several film credits and a high profile in surreal television comedy - most notably in ITV's Do Not Adjust Your Set (1967 to 1969) - influenced by the radio comedy of The Goon Show and prefiguring Monty Python's Flying Circus. She and David Jason formed the more traditional showbiz element in a company of university wits - Michael Palin, Terry Jones, Eric Idle, the producer Humphrey Barclay and, in the second series, Terry Gilliam - with surreal musical incursions from The Bonzo Dog Doo-Dah Band. There followed two popular series on ITV: Girls About Town (1970) in which she and Julie Stevens were living it large in Acacia Avenue and Hold The Front Page (1974), in which Coffey led a bunch of newsroom assistants chasing down a 'Mister Big' involved in a Great Rug Scandal. End Of Part One (1979) was a satirical soap in which Mister and Mrs Straightman (Tony Aitken and Coffey as Norman and Vera) were disrupted in their domestic dullness by the appearance of famous people on television; Coffey herself turned up as Robin Day in those trademark 'cruel' glasses. She was a one-off: under five feet tall, elfin-looking, punchy and eccentric. In her private life, she was determinedly single, vegetarian and finally remote, especially after she discovered the joys of the West Country - she moved from London to Salcombe in Devon - and living by the sea. She was a regular in a couple of Stanley Baxter's TV comedy series in 1968 and 1971 and went wildly over-the-top as the grotesque manager of Alexei Sayle's hopeless nightclub comedian, Bobby Chariot, in Sayle's Merry-Go-Round in 1998.
Denise was born in Aldershot, the only child of Dorothy and her husband, Denis Coffey, from Cork and a squadron leader in the RAF. They moved North to Dorothy's native Scotland, living near Inverkeithing in Fife and, later, in Milesmark, where Denise was educated at Dunfermline high school and trained at the Glasgow College of Drama and the Royal Scottish Academy of Music. She made a professional acting debut at the Opera House, Dunfermline, in 1954, 'as various apparitions' in Macbeth. By 1962, she was playing the star turn, the word-mangling Mrs Malaprop, in Sheridan's The Rivals at The Gateway in Edinburgh and then, in 1963, the insalubrious Mrs Coaxer in a revival of John Gay's The Beggar's Opera for The Royal Shakespeare Company at The Aldwych (alongside Dorothy Tutin, Patience Collier and Elizabeth Spriggs). A West End highlight was playing the maid, Edith, in High Spirits, the Broadway musical version of Blithe Spirit, directed by the author Noël Coward, at The Savoy Theatre in 1964, in a cast that included Denis Quilley, Marti Stevens and Cecily Courtneidge. She had made a television debut in 1959 in a BBC adaptation of Walter Scott's Redgauntlet and consolidated her theatre reputation at The Mermaid in various classics and new plays, notably as nineteen-year-old Fanny O'Dowda in George Bernard Shaw's Fanny's First Play - as a prosecuted suffragist turned feminist playwright and as the non-speaking but occasionally flatulent Cicely Bumtrinket - a favourite role, not even identified in most cast lists - in Thomas Dekker's Elizabethan city comedy The Shoemaker's Holiday. She also featured in several important 1960s films: as Peter Sellers's eccentric daughter Sidonia Fitzjohn (with Prunella Scales as her sister) in John Guillermin's Waltz Of The Toreadors (1962); as Lynn Redgrave's mousy friend, Peg, in Georgy Girl (1966) and as Soberness in John Schlesinger's Far From The Madding Crowd (1967) starring Julie Christie and Alan Bates. On location in Dorset for the last of these, she visited nearby Devon, where she would return to live permanently. But not before her Young Vic stint - as both actor and associate director - in the 1970s, where her company colleagues included Jim Dale, Jane Lapotaire, Andrew Robertson and Nicky Henson. Her roles, all invested with zest and cheek, included Beatrice in Much Ado About Nothing, a rare double of Mistress Overdone and Mariana in Measure For Measure and Doll Common in Ben Jonson's The Alchemist. She toured Europe and North America with the company, appearing with them at the Edinburgh festivals of 1967, 1971 and 1972, notably as a harassed Scottish housewife in a Comedy Of Errors relocated from Ephesus to Edinburgh. When her mentor, Dunlop, was appointed director of the festival in 1985, she provided a brilliant Scottish version of Molière's Le Bourgeois Gentilhomme tarring Rikki Fulton as Archibald Jenner, the Nineteenth-Century founder of the famous store, Jenners, on Princes Street; Coffey was Netty, a scrofulous clog-dancing servant. She appeared in a fine, early Film On Four, Michael Radford's Another Time, Another Place (1983). Her work on radio included guest appearances on I'm Sorry I Haven't A Clue and Just A Minute and two series by Sue Limb: The Wordsmiths Of Gorsemere (1985), a funny send-up of the Lakeland poets, with Coffey herself as Dorothy Wordsmith, Tim Curry as Lord Biro and Simon Callow as Samuel Tailor Cholericke and Alison & Maud (2002), teaming with Miriam Margolyes as a pair of bizarrely eccentric landladies. A 1980 film written by Denise's old friend Viv Stanshall, Sir Henry At Rawlinson End, in which she played a tapeworm-obsessed woman called Mrs E, won cult status. 'It's impossible to do justice,' said the critic Nigel Andrews, 'to the film's arrant and quite unique lunacy.' Her CV also included appearances in Sheep's Clothing, Z Cars, Doctor Finlay's Casebook, Jury Room, The Wednesday Play, Theatre 625, The Ugliest Girl In Town, ITV Playhouse, Hark At Barker, The Dustbinmen, The Rivals Of Sherlock Holmes, Village Hall, The Sooty Show, Love Among The Artists, Dark Towers, Rainbow, Josie, Spatz, The Tomorrow People and Pie In The Sky. And in the films What A Crazy World, The Wild & The Willing, Percy and Saving Grace. In the 1980s, in Canada, she directed plays for John Neville at his Neptune Theatre in Halifax, Nova Scotia and for Christopher Newton at The Shaw Festival in Niagara-on-the-Lake, Ontario. Her output was increasingly sporadic as she happily hunkered down in Salcombe, 'exploring my artistic bent,' fishing in a small boat with a tiny outboard motor, gardening and making rare excursions to London, always travelling by taxi. She is survived by a cousin, Linda.
The Grand Old Duke Of York, dear blog reader, he had seven hundred and fifty thousand quid. But, now he doesn't. The Duke and Duchess Of York (you remember her, she used to make really rotten TV shows until ITV dropped her in the wake of another financial scandal) have both been named in a court case in which a Turkish millionaire is claiming thirty eight million smackers has been 'dishonestly misappropriated' by a business adviser. The High Court in London has heard claims that 'substantial sums' from Nebehat Isbilen were paid to Prince Andrew and his ex-wife. It is reportedly 'understood' that seven hundred and fifty thousand knicker has been repaid by the prince to Mrs Isbilen. The business adviser, Selman Turk, has rejected the allegations. The complex court case involves claims brought by seventy seven-year-old Mrs Isbilen that her business adviser, Turk, misused her funds. Court documents show that among the expenditure and investments being questioned were payments to Prince Andrew and Sarah, the - former - Duchess Of York. According to the court papers, Mrs Isbilen claims Turk advised her to make a 'gift' of seven hundred and fifty grand to Prince Andrew - because, of course, he hasn't got enough to live on from all the money he used to annually receive from the British taxpayer - which, it is claimed, she was misled into thinking was for 'assistance with her passport.' This amount was transferred from her account in November 2019. 'The representation that Mrs Isbilen needed to make a gift to The [Grand Old] Duke Of York [he had seven hundred and fifty thousand quid] in connection with her passport (or for any other purpose) was false,' suggests her legal team in their claim of dishonesty against Turk. Representatives of Prince Andrew have 'not commented' on the ongoing court case. But, the BBC News website 'understands' that the prince was 'not aware' of any arrangements between Mrs Isbilen and Turk. The discovery of payments to Prince Andrew emerged after a court order allowed a search of Turk's financial dealings, as Mrs Isbilen's lawyers tried to establish the whereabouts of her assets. Jonathan Tickner, Mrs Isbilen's lawyer, claimed that she had been 'the victim of serious fraud and financial wrongdoing' and was 'determined to pursue her claim against all those involved.' Court documents show that Turk has 'disputed the allegations' and 'disagrees with her understanding of how her assets have been handled.' Turk had also been a winner of an award at the Pitch at the Palace business initiative, headed by Prince Andrew. Although, obviously, there is no suggestion whatsoever of any impropriety involved there. oh no, very hot water.
A US judge has upheld Ghislaine Maxwell's sex trafficking conviction, denying her bid for a new trial. Convicted sex offender Maxwell had whinged that one of the jurors falsely stated before the trial that he had never been sexually abused. Her lawyers argued the fact that the juror had been abused in the past meant he 'could not be impartial.' Maxwell was exrtemely convicted in December last year of trafficking girls for the late American financier Jeffrey Epstein. She faces up to sixty five years in The Joint for her naughty trafficking ways, but maintains her innocence. Epstein killed himself in prison in 2019 while awaiting trial on sex trafficking charges. The juror in question was earlier given immunity from prosecution. He had asked to be identified by his first and middle names, Scotty David. When asked why he failed to disclose his past in the jury questionnaire when explicitly asked, he said it was an 'inadvertent mistake. This is one of the biggest mistakes I have made in my life,' he added, saying he 'flew through' the document and was 'super-distracted' by everything going on around him in the jury room. On Friday, US Circuit Judge Alison Nathan said that the juror had 'testified truthfully' at a hearing in March over Maxwell's bid for a retrial. 'His failure to disclose his prior sexual abuse during the jury selection process was highly unfortunate, but not deliberate,' the judge said. 'The court further concludes that Juror Fifty harboured no bias toward the defendant and could serve as a fair and impartial juror.'
Now extremely former President Mister Rump will, reportedly, speak under oath after the singer Eddy Grant agreed to extend the 'discovery' phase of a lawsuit against the former US president. Grant, whose song 'Electric Avenue' was used by Rump during his 2020 campaign, had filed the copyright infringement lawsuit in September 2020. Rump failed to get the case dismissed last year and both sides had been trying to reach an agreement in the discovery phase of the lawsuit. According to a letter obtained by Business Insider on Wednesday however, that effort had failed and the case looked set to head toward the recording of depositions. It means Rump will be expected to sit for a deposition involving his own lawyers and those for Grant if both sides fail to come to a settlement before 21 June. In a letter to a New York judge, Grant's lawyer wrote that 'with consent from defendants Donald J Trump and Donald J Trump for President, Inc' they were writing 'to request a sixty-day extension for the parties to complete discovery.' Although exchange of documents had been completed, the letter explained, 'additional time is needed to schedule and take the depositions of both parties,' that will be taken under oath and used in court if the lawsuit eventually reaches trial. While the case could still be settled without Rump going to trial and standing in a dock to answer the charges, a judge has already ruled against his claims of fair use and presidential immunity in his use of the 'Electric Avenue' hit - one of Eddy's finest. Despite many attempts, Rump has so far sat for only one deposition under oath once since becoming President in 2017, which according to Business Insider was for a case in which security guards for Rump Tower were accused of assaulting four New York residents of Mexican heritage. Eddy is, reportedly, seeking three hundred thousand bucks in damages and claims copyright infringement and alleged in his lawsuit in 2020 that Rump's video featuring his song had been viewed 'more than 13.7 million times; the tweet containing the video had been "liked" more than three hundred and fifty thousand times, re-tweeted more than one hundred and thirty nine thousand times and had received nearly fifty thousand comments' in a month. Mostly saying 'bangin' tune, Ed!' Whether Eddy's first reaction on discovering that his classic 1982 song has been used by the odious Rump without his permission was an exclamation of 'Oi!' is not, at this time known. Though if the case comes to court, we will, hopefully, find out. We will also, probably, discover at that stage why Rump chose to use that particular song and not another of Eddy's finest, 'Police On My Back'.
Britain's likely next Prime Minister, Rishi Sunak, has claimed he finds it 'very upsetting' that his wife has faced criticism over shares she owns in a tech company which - up until this week - was operating in Russia. The chancellor compared his feelings to those of Will Smith, whose own wife was mocked at the Oscars. But, he added: 'At least I didn't get up and slap anybody, which is good.' Sunak's wife Akshata Murty owns shares thought to be worth more than four hundred million knicker in Indian firm Infosys, founded by her father, Narayana. The chancellor has himself come in for several days of criticism over last week's Spring Statement, which opposition parties say did too little to address the spiralling cost of living. Labour and the Lib Dems have said Sunak has questions to answer about whether his family benefits from the shareholding at a time when he is calling for UK businesses to divest from Russia. And whether, because of this, he is vile and odious scumbag hypocrite.
England could face The Scotch or Wales at the World Cup in Qatar after the draw for the tournament's finals was made on Friday. One of Wales, Scotland or Ukraine will go into Group B after the remaining European play-off path is completed. Iran and the USA have also been drawn in England's group. The World Cup takes place between 21 November and 18 December, with Senegal playing the Netherlands in the tournament's opening game. England's first fixture, taking place later on the same day, sees them take on Iran. The two sides have never met in a senior competitive international. The game will take place eight days after the Premier League begins a six-week break. Reigning champions France are in Group D while Brazil, who returned to number one in the FIFA rankings in March, are in Group G. Wales, seeking to reach their first World Cup since 1958, will have to overcome the winners of Scotland and Ukraine in the play-off final in June. However, that game - which had been scheduled to take place on 24 March at Hampden - was postponed because of Russia's invasion of Ukraine. The full draw is: Group A: Qatar, Ecuador, Senegal, Netherlands. Group B: England, Iran, USA, Wales or Scotland or Ukraine. Group C: Argentina, Saudi Arabia, Mexico, Poland. Group D: France, UAE or Australia or Peru, Denmark, Tunisia. Group E: Spain, Costa Rica or New Zealand, Germany, Japan. Group F: Belgium, Canada, Morocco, Croatia. Group G: Brazil, Serbia, Switzerland, Cameroon. Group H: Portugal, Ghana, Uruguay, South Korea. After playing Iran on 21 November, England face the USA on 25 November before finishing their Group B campaign on 29 November against one of Scotland, Wales or Ukraine. The winner of the remaining European play-off will open their World Cup campaign against the USA on the first day of the tournament. Should Scotland progress they will play England at a World Cup finals for the first time. The two sides met at last summer's Euro 2020 tournament with the game ending goalless. Wales and England have never met at a World Cup finals either (hardly surprising since Wales have only ever made the final stages once). England won two-one when the sides met in the group stage at Euro 2016. 'We've got to get out of the group,' said England manager Gareth Southgate. 'Out first objective is to get out of the group and then we build from there. When you're seeded you get the advantage of missing out on those big six or seven teams. Most of the first seeds would be pleased with the group they get. The USA are an interesting one. They've got some very good players and we know what they could be capable of, so that one in particular is an intriguing one.' The winner of England's group could meet world champions France in the quarter-finals. Topping - or, indeed, Telly Topping - Group B means a last-sixteen game with the runners-up in Group A, which contains the Netherlands, Ecuador, Senegal and hosts Qatar. Should France top Group D they will face the runners-up in Group C. Group E sees former world champions Spain and Germany drawn together. They will meet in their second group game on 27 November. The highly-fancied Belgians are in Group F alongside 2018 runners-up Croatia. Cristiano Ronaldo's Portugal are in Group H, which also sees Ghana and Uruguay meet in a rematch of the controversial 2010 World Cup Quarter-Final tie. In that game, Luis Suarez handled on the line to deny the Ghanaians a winner in the last minute of extra time. The United States will call on history - they beat England in the 1950 World Cup and drew in South Africa in 2010 - but reality insists they will be huge underdogs, even if they have a very respectable FIFA ranking of fifteenth. Usually all the teams would be known before the World Cup draw but this year three positions are yet to be decided. Russia's invasion of Ukraine has delayed the European play-off, while the coronavirus pandemic accounts for the other delays. Two intercontinental finals will be played in Qatar on 13 and 14 June. Costa Rica and New Zealand meet in one and, in the other, Peru will play the winner of the United Arab Emirates and Australia, who meet in the Asian play-off in Doha on 7 June. Those games were moved from March because of knock-on effects of the pandemic in each continent. All the Oceania qualifiers were played from 17-30 March in a mini-tournament in Qatar. European champions Italy are the most notable absentees after their play-off defeat by North Macedonia, though they did also miss out on the last World Cup. Russia also miss out after being disqualified from the play-offs following their country's invasion of Ukraine (and, the fact that their President has a very tiny member). Norway failed to qualify, meaning Borussia Dortmund's Erling Braut Haaland will have to wait for his major tournament debut. Mohamed Salah and Egypt will not be there either after losing to Senegal on penalties. Nigeria, Algeria and Côte d'Ivoire are also missing from Africa, while South American World Cup regulars Colombia and Chile also failed to qualify. And, there was also no place in the finals for The Federated States of Micronesia. Which is a shame. Meanwhile, the secretary general of the 2022 Qatar World Cup jas claimed, wrongly, that criticism by players and managers has been 'ill-informed' and the nation 'should not be apologetic' about hosting the tournament. Which no one has, this blogger believes, ever said that it should. On the other hand it should be apologetic over its disgraceful human rights record and treatment of gay people. Qatar has strict anti-LGBTIQ+ laws, while there are also concerns over the treatment of migrant workers (an unconfirmed number of who are said to have died during the construction of stadiums for the forthcoming tournament). 'Some people have made statements that in my opinion were ill-informed,' Hassan Al-Thawadi told BBC Sport's editor Dan Roan. Al-Thawadi added: 'We should not be apologetic over our ambitions to host this tournament because we are football loving region. We are football crazy and football mad like anywhere else. We have the legitimate ambition to showcase our region to the rest of the world and to change people's perception of who we are.' Homosexuality is illegal in Qatar and human rights organisation Amnesty International say women and LGBTIQ+ people 'continue to face discrimination in law and practice.' England manager Gareth Southgate has said it would be 'a great shame' that some fans will feel they cannot attend the World Cup because of concerns over their own safety, while captain Harry Kane said he wants to 'shine a light' on the issues surrounding the Qatar tournament. Netherlands manager Louis van Gaal has suggested holding the event in the Middle Eastern country was 'about money' and 'commercial interests.' No shit, Sherlock. On how Qatar's laws can be reconciled with football's focus on inclusivity and anti-discrimination, Al-Thawadi claimed, unconvincingly: 'We have always said everybody is welcome. What we will ensure is everybody will be safe. Everybody will feel secure. [We are] inviting the world to come to visit Qatar, to visit the Arab world, and to understand again, for us, we're a relatively conservative country, which means public display of affection is something that is not within our culture. But hospitality and welcoming people from different parts of the world into our country is part of our culture.' He added: 'We've done this over the last few years and we have people from different walks of life who have made a home for themselves in Qatar. I think the nature of these tournaments is it allows people from different walks of life to be able to experience and understand different cultures.' A report in the Gruniad Morning Star in February 2021 claimed that over six thousand migrant workers have died in the country since the World Cup was awarded in 2010. Qatar 2022 dispute these figures but have not commented publicly on them, while the Qatar government said in a statement: 'The mortality rate among these communities is within the expected range for the size and demographics of the population.' Asked if the 2022 tournament was sportswashing, Al-Thawadi said 'that could not be further from the truth.' One or two people even believed him. 
So, that's yer whack for another From The North bloggerisationisms update, dear blog reader. Join us again next time - all the groovy fekkers are doing so.

The Fiend Gives The More Friendly Counsel

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When the former Doctor Who showrunner Big Rusty Davies announced his return to the BBC's popular long-running family SF drama last autumn, it wasn't merely us fans that were shocked - and stunned - by this remarkable happenstance. His former collaborator and successor as Doctor Who showrunner, The Lord Thy God Steven Moffat (OBE) was also stunned - and shocked - only learning the news on the very evening before it was revealed to the rest of us. Now, a few months later, The Moff suggests that Big Rusty's return proves the 'vibrancy' of Doctor Who, sharing his thoughts on Davies' return with the Radio Times. Which used to be a really good magazine a couple of decades ago when it had adults running it. 'They're dragging him out of the archives!' The Moff joshed. 'My first thought, "Well it's brilliant news for Doctor Who." He's the finest writer working in television. And he's coming back to what is, I suppose, still his biggest hit. So that's just wonderful news. And sort of proof of the vibrancy of that show that he would do that - he'd come back to it. He's got every offer under the Sun. And what he's choosing to do is to come back to what all us right-thinking people know is the best show in the history of television.''If anyone can do it twice, it's Russell,' added regular Doctor Who contributor Mark Gatiss, who wrote several episodes for both Davies and Moffat during their time(s) in charge. 'I don't know a thing about it, which is brilliant. I know it'll be very big, ambitious stuff. And that's exactly what Russell has always brought to it. I think it's delightful. I saw him quite recently and he looked really, really happy. And I think that's a lovely thing to see. He's bursting with enthusiasm.'
The Lord Thy God Steven Moffat, meanwhile, has 'confirmed' to Radio Times - if not anyone a bit more reliable - that he 'can confidently say' he is 'done' showrunning Doctor Who. Not that anyone with half a brain in their skull had actually suggested he wasn't. 'Everyone can stop worrying. I did it for six seasons on the trot. And I cannot imagine going back into doing that. I simply cannot picture it.' He added: 'I loved the show. I don't want anyone to think I didn't love the show. And I loved every second I spent on it, although some of them were Hellish. But I've done that. I have done it and I did it a lot. So no offence and no disrespect and certainly no disdaining of wonderful memories but, no, I will not be showrunning Doctor Who again.' Of course, he didn't say anything about not writing for the BBC's popular long-running family SF drama again. Just an observation, dear blog readers (one which Steven will, no doubt, tear this blogger a new arsehole for over on Facebook!)
This autumn, of course, marks the final appearance of Jodie Whittaker in Doctor Who, with her Doctor bowing out in a BBC Centenary Special alongside current showrunner, Chris Chibnall. You knew that, right? How her Doctor's story will actually regenerate is still shrouded in mystery and discombobulation (although, there have, inevitably, been all manner of rumours and speculation), but it's worth remembering that Jodie's Doctor is not the only character having her story wrapped up. Yaz (Mandip Gill) is also set to depart in the autumn after four years in the TARDIS. Mandip told the Radio Times that her exit will be exciting and emotional. 'I think just like me, just like my character, there'll be a lot of tears,' she told the magazine when asked how fans would react to her character's end. 'But I loved where it ended up. think it was the right thing. It's exciting. There's a lot of emotion. And I think they'll be - not pleasantly surprised, but I think they'll realise that's exactly where it should be going.' With filming now having ended, Gill is experiencing her post-Doctor Who life, booking new roles (including her West End debut in 2:22 - A Ghost Story) and no longer beholden to the punishing ten-and-a-half-months-a-year production schedule of the BBC's popular long-running family SF drama. In reality, though, she says that the series will be with her forever. 'Is it ever post-Doctor Who?' she wondered. 'I feel like it's post-Doctor Who filming. Like that's what we should say.'
Chris Chibnall has been talking this week to several media outlets about the forthcoming Doctor Who Easter special, Legend Of The Sea Devils. And, this Radio Times piece definitely does contain a couple of spoilers. So, if you're worried about that sort of thing or don't want to risk it, then, under absolutely no circumstances whatsoeverclick on this here link. But, if you're not bothered about that nonsense, Chib appears to be on jolly amusing form.
The BBC have, this week, released a series of behind-the-scenes and on-set images from Legend Of The Sea Devils. Including one featuring Dan, Dan, the Crusty Old Sea-Dog man which made this blogger laugh, loads. 
Outside Waterside Pool in Ryde and clearly visible from the road, is an old boat, now used as a flower bed reports the Isle Of Wight Observer. The Vera Lynn has a very interesting back story. 'It was the vessel used in the opening sequence of the Doctor Who episode, The Sea Devils, fifty years ago,' the paper notes. Actually, it was a six-episode serial, the boat only appearing at the start of the part one. Nevertheless, that minor point apart ... The Doctor (Mister Pertwee) and his companion, Jo Grant (Katy Manning) were seen in the boat being piloted to a remote island prison to visit The Master (Roger Delgado) who'd been banged up for his naughty 'Universal Domination'-related crimes and was doin' stir at Her Maj's Pleasure in The Slammer. So, he was biding his time watching Clangers on telly. And who, in all honestly, could blame him? The boat formerly belonged to Maurice Oakham, who was a boatman at Ryde.
And, speaking of the original 1972 Sea Devils appearance on Doctor Who, the following story concerns the script editor of that well-remembered story, the late, great, Terrance Dicks. Hey, this blogger doesn't just throw these blogs together, you know? Anyway, Keith Telly Topping's old mate Gary Russell was the inaugural recipient of The Terrance Dicks Award For Writers. The ceremony took place at the Doctor Who Appreciation Society's convention, The Capitol Five, at The Crowne Plaza Hotel, Gatwick. Gary received the award, a statue of The Master crafted by Gary Glover of Mooncrest Models, from Terrance's widow, Elsa. Gary said: 'To be the recipient of this inaugural award is an honour, a pleasure and a scary responsibility I could never have expected. Terrance was an inspiration, a mentor and above all, a good friend. Thank you to the DWAS and Elsa and the boys for this amazing award.' Gary is, of course, the author of numerous Doctor Who novels, edited the official Doctor Who Magazine for many years, wrote comic strips for IDW and was script editor on Doctor Who, The Sarah Jane AdventuresandTorchwood on TV. He was one of the founders of Big Finish and is currently overseeing the animation of The Abominable Snowmen. And, in addition to all that, he's also a thoroughly decent bloke and a deserving recipient of the award.
This isn't exactly 'news' (in fact, the story first appeared, in various forms, in September of last year) but national heartthrob David Tennant is, claim the Radio Times, set to star in a modern-day Doctor Jekyll & Mister Hyde drama entitled Hide. Where he will be joined in the cast by his wife, Georgia. Described as 'a Jekyll & Hyde tale by way of a conspiracy thriller,' David plays a disgraced journalist who finds himself looking into a story which, he believes, could put his career back on track. Then, it all goes more than a bit pear-shaped and he finds himself on the run from The Law. As reported by Deadline, David - who will also executive produce the series - said, 'One of my earliest jobs was playing "first policeman" in a BBC radio adaptation of Doctor Jekyll & Mister Hyde. I read the book many years ago and I've been fascinated with this character for as long as I can remember. This story has followed me around for years, tapping on my shoulder slightly impatiently.' Director and executive producer Julie Anne Robinson said of the project: 'I am ecstatic to have this opportunity to work with such creative and talented individuals. The Jekyll & Hyde story is a classic and it is so thrilling to be bringing a new and exciting iteration to the screen with such brilliant collaborators.' To date, no other casting news has been revealed, but the series has been written by Agent Carter's Michele Fazekas and Tara Butters. Robinson and David have been friends for many years and had always wanted to develop a project together. Almost two decades ago, Robinson saw Tennant in a play at The National Theatre and subsequently cast him as one of the leads in the Peter Bowker's Blackpool, on which she was director.
The centenary of the birth of the great Nigel Kneale on 28 April is being marked in multiple ways this month, with the release of the BFI edition of Kneale's 1954 BBC adaptation of Nineteen Eighty Four on 11 April. Radio Four Extra is contributing to the celebrations with a repeat of Matthew Graham's adaptation of The Stone Tape on Saturday 16 April and Toby Hadoke's new version of 1963's forgotten masterpiece, The Road the following day. The latter will be followed by a new documentary by Toby, Remembering Nigel Kneale. This blogger also encourages dear blog readers to have a gander at Adam Scovell's lovely pieceFrom The Stone Tape To Quatermass: Unearthing Nigel Kneale Locations Today at the BFI website. And, after that, the same website'sNot Quite So Intimate: Nigel Kneale In 1959 is also well-worth a few moments of your time. As this blogger has previously written, in 'major event' TV plays like The Road, the extraordinary Bam! Pow! Zap!, Wine Of India and The Stone Tape, Kneale 'pulled Telefantasy away from its cosy little-England literary roots and into wild, experimental, almost nihilist areas never dreamed of in the austere, pipe-and-slippers post-war Britain of the 1950s ... And then there was The Year Of The Sex Olympics (1968), [a] play about a TV-obsessed totalitarian state which appeared to show Kneale's vision of mankind's immediate future as a crass, indolent, lobotomised race, wallowing in a gutter of hardcore pornography and degradation. And, after a decade of Big Brother and The X Factor, it's hard not to award Nigel ten-out-of-ten for foresight. Apart from uncannily predicting the rise of reality TV - and viewers voyeuristic interaction with it - however the play was, actually, Kneale's rather heartfelt acknowledgement of (if not, necessarily, endorsement of) the permissive society; 'the new honesty' as the author described it in a spectacularly forthright piece for Radio Times that had the editors of the magazine quick to make sure their readers knew these were not, necessarily, the views of anybody else at the BBC. It also, as with much of his work, showed Kneale's abiding distrust of all forms of the media, particularly (and ironically) television. For somebody who spent most of his adult life feeding The Cathode Ray, Kneale had an impressive, frequent ability to bite the hand that paid him.' Fascinating chap, Nigel Kneale - a great writer, obviously, that goes without saying but also a man who, seemingly, liked the concept of humanity, but didn't appear so keen on people. This blogger often knows exactly where was coming from. 
'Vengeance is for the Lord.''Not in Small Heath it ain't!' Last Sunday saw the television finale of From The North favourite Peaky Fookin' Blinders; there is, apparently, a movie in the works about which there has been much speculation but little actual hard information at this stage - see, for instance, Radio Times hilariously empty 'what have we been able to find out about the Peaky Blinders movie?'article which manages to say in several hundred words what just two could have ('fek all'). The Gruniad Morning Star's Michael Hogan gave the finale a glowing write-up, noting: 'Like a frontman introducing the band, writer Steven Knight ensured this legacy tour gave much-loved characters their moment in the spotlight. Not only did Uncle Charlie come good. So did Johnny Dogs and Isiah. Fan favourite Alfie Solomons (Tom Hardy) arrived for one last spot of scenery-chewing, announcing himself with "I smell the smell of roasting Irishmen" ... Thomas Shelby MP's final appearance in the Commons wasn't what you'd call conventional. He met [Diana] Mitford on the famous green leatherette seats, requesting support for his housing bill - while outlining his leverage on an artfully folded paper plane. Mitford "wanted to fuck here, on these benches" but staunch socialist Tommy refused to go over to the Tory side, insisting she cross the floor. Any fears that Peaky Blinders might "do a Game Of Thrones" were put to bed by a satisfyingly propulsive parting shot. Clocking in at eighty one minutes, we'd been promised a mini-movie, a dry run for the forthcoming feature and that's what we got. This was part western, part gangster epic and so tense, I barely drew breath for the first hour.' Yeah, pretty much this blogger's take on things (except for the crass, atypically sneering Middle Class hippy Communist Gruniad Morning StarGame Of Thrones-bashing which should've been put in the ground years ago. And, indeed, very much was on this blog).
Keith Telly Topping caught up with the latest two episodes of Picard over the weekend. Now, here's a funny thing, as soon as this blogger read that virtually all of this series was going to be set in (near) present-day LA, he thought to his very self, 'Keith Telly Topping,' he thought. 'I'll bet my entire Deep Space Nine DVD collection that this will include several direct references to The Voyage Home (and, probably, an oblique one to Assignment: Earth).' What can this blogger say, dear blog reader? Keith Telly Topping just loves being right.
And, still on the subject of Picard, this week has seen a significant announcement with regard to the cast of the next (and, finale) series of the Star Trek: The Next Generation spin-off. And, by 'significant', this blogger - for once - isn't even lyin', nor nothing.
Paramount has unveiled the official trailer for Star Trek: Strange New Worlds, the highly anticipated upcoming prequel series and latest addition to the expanding Star Trek Universe. It looks totally great, by the way.
The Split, featuring From The North favourite Nicola Walker, returned to the BBC this week for the opening episode of its third - and final - series. The Gruniad's Rebecca Nicholson has done a (rather decent) think-piece on the show - See You In Court! The Return Of Sex-Packed Legal Drama The Split - which, should you wish, you can read here.
Also highly recommended from the Gruniad is Stuart Jeffries'review of the opening episode of House Of Maxwell, also broadcast this week. 'Maxwell House was once an unspeakable instant coffee in the UK; now the house of Maxwell is an unspeakable if more successful brand, whose every cough, spit and miaow is to be plundered in the way Robert did with the Mirror Group pension fund. I'm not sure this series adds much to the story set out in John Sweeney's excellent podcast, Hunting Ghislaine, other than audio recordings of panicked lackeys wondering what will happen when their master's body is recovered. But its confident retelling of the grisly family saga makes one wonder if daddy's example showed his children that morality is for little people. Certainly, the tale told here of how Maxwell stymied publication of Tom Bower's disobliging biography, which dared to depict Maxwell as a black marketeer profiting from shortages in postwar Berlin, suggests how ruthless in protecting the gilded lie Ghislaine's father was. The series takes us from the Carpathian shtetl, in Ukraine, where Robert was born in 1923 to the Brooklyn detention centre in early 2022, where Ghislaine awaits sentencing for sex trafficking underage girls for her former boyfriend Jeffrey Epstein and for others devoid of moral sense - although not Prince Andrew. Heavens, no.' Indeed. Very hot water. There's also a similar review by the Independent's Jon Sommerlad which noted: 'Also offering insight into Robert Maxwell's relationship with his daughter and her siblings in the programme was former Sunday Mirror editor Eve Pollard, who said: "He had great fondness for Ian and Kevin and Ghislaine. It was the sort of love that could grab you by the throat as well as the heart and you never knew which way it would go.'
Bad Wolf Production's latest genre addition to their upcoming drama slate is an adaptation of Bernard Cornwell's Warlord Chronicles, The Winter King. This is a fresh take on the Arthurian legends from the author of the Sharpe novels and will be filmed in Wales and the West Country later in 2022. Kate Brooke and Ed Whitmore are writing the scripts with Otto Bathurst as director. This is, of course, in addition to the new series of Doctor Who, which will also shoot this year. Once they've announced whom The Doctor is. A subject which this blogger was recently discussing on BBC Newcastle with his most excellent fiend, Alfie Joey (from one hour and fourteen minutes in and available on Baby Sea Clowns for approximately the next three weeks).
BBC Studios is, reportedly, working on a TV version of David Barnett and Philip Bond's comic strip Eve Stranger, according to Deadline. It will come from their Drama Production Unit, whose previous series including The Watch and follows 'the enigmatic Eve, an amnesiac for hire who has unlimited funds, a jet-set lifestyle and extraordinary abilities.' According to producer Matthew Bouch, it's 'a mind-bending journey, a wild mix of complex characters and comic book verve taking us on an action-adventure ride that dazzles even as it deepens in psychological richness.''What David and Philip created under Shelly Bond's auspices is a character for the ages,' said executive producer Chris Ryall. 'Eve is a black-ops action hero capable of amazing feats but incapable of remembering last week. Every job, Eve wakes up with a new assignment and a bloodstream filled with nanoboobs that can only be suppressed by the contents of a mind-erasing syringe and after her misadventures with giant gorillas, extreme assassins and other unsavoury types, she has found the perfect partner in BBC Studios, and so have we. I can't wait to see Eve's adventures come to life and engage viewers like they did readers.' Speaking to Sci-Fi Bulletin, David Barnett noted: 'We're all absolutely over the moon that BBC Studios has picked up Eve Stranger for adaptation into a TV series. When Philip Bond and I, alongside Shelly Bond, were creating the character we knew we had something quirky, original and compelling and it's absolutely amazing that the team at BBC Studios, which is responsible for some brilliant programmes, has seen the same thing. Veronica Gleason is a fantastic screenwriter and I can't wait to see her take on Eve and her weird and wonderful cast of co-stars.'
The lack of culture secretary, The Vile & Odious Rascal Dorries, is pushing ahead with controversial plans to privatise Channel Four, with the government backing proposals to sell off the broadcaster after forty years in public ownership. The government hopes to raise around a billion smackers from the sell-off, making it one of the biggest privatisations since Royal Mail went public a decade ago. Ministers have suggested they could spend the proceeds to 'boost creative training' and independent production companies, essentially funding their levelling up agenda. But, they probably won't. In fact, they're far more likely to simply organise a few drinks parties in Downing Street since they don't seem to have had any of those for some time. The plans had met fierce reaction from the media industry, with prominent broadcasters such as Sir David Attenborough suggesting the government was pursuing an agenda of 'shortsighted political and financial attacks' on British public service broadcasters. Particularly hilarious in this regard was the comments of Kirstie Allsopp who, as recently as recently, had her tongue rammed so far up the Tory party's collective ringpiece there was no room for anyone else to get in there for a damned good slurp. Channel Four's chief executive, Alex Mahon, told staff of the news in an e-mail on Monday night, saying: 'We have been informed in the last hour that the government will shortly announce that the secretary of state has decided to proceed with the proposal to privatise Channel Four. In our engagement with the government during its extended period of reflection, we have proposed a vision for the next forty years which we are confident would allow us to build on the successes of the first forty. That vision was rooted in continued public ownership and was built upon the huge amount of public value this model has delivered to date and the opportunity to deliver so much more in the future.' Mahon hinted that the current leadership of Channel Four would not go down without a fight, suggesting that 'ultimately the ownership of Channel Four is for government to propose and parliament to decide' and the lengthy process of passing legislation to privatise the channel meant it was not a done deal. On Monday evening That Awful Dorries Woman tweeted that public ownership was 'holding Channel Four back from competing against streaming giants like Netflix and Amazon.' One or two people even believed her.
This blogger was thinking this week (alwaysa jolly dangerous thing), that one simply doesn't hear anywhere near enough uses of the phrase 'I'll go to the foot of our stairs' these days, does one? And, tragically, that situation is unlikely to change any time soon. Unless, of course, it is announced that's to be the name of Michael Palin's next travel series.
From The North favourite Hello To Jason Isaacs is featured in the Gruniad Morning Star's Q&A column this week. Asked by a reader 'please could you gear up as General Zhukov, head over to the Kremlin again and give you-know-who a good sock in the face?' Jason replied: '[From The North favourite] The Death of Stalin is so prescient; some scenes could be directly ripped from the news. Putin's press conference where he lined up all of his cabinet members could have been a monstrously-less-funny outtake. I find it terrifying that one of the best hopes is that somebody in Putin's circle will reach across that three hundred-foot table and put an end to this. It would take someone of Zhukov's stature, with balls the size of Kremlin domes. All actors have an infinite, bottomless pit of need for flattery. But anybody with half-a-brain can see that I clearly had the best lines. Who wouldn't love being given a five-course banquet every time you open your mouth? But it was weird to be surrounded by my comedy heroes. Every time they said "cut," I doffed my cap, sat at their feet and listened to stories of making Monty Python [Michael Palin], The Fast Show [Paul Whitehouse], Reservoir Dogs [Steve Buscemi] and Arrested Development [Jeffrey Tambor]. Then, when Armando Iannucci shouted, "Action," I suddenly had to take charge and slap them around!' And, dear blog reader, he did it in a magnificently Yorkshire way!
Now, dear blogggerisationism readers, stand by for the long-awaited return of an old, familiar From The North semi-regular feature.
Featuring, almost exclusively, the outputs of Talking Pictures, The Horror Channel, ITV4, Yesterday and UK TV Play. Starting with Solo For Sparrow. Featuring Michael Caine in a tiny role looking all of fifteen.
Night Of The Prowler.
Van Der Valk.
Psychomania.
The Champions.
Macbeth (2006).
Killing Eve.
I Start Counting.
The Prisoner.
Beat Girl.
Maigret.
Count Yorga, Vampire.
Passport To Shame.
The Night Caller.
The Disappearance Of Alice Creed.
The Outer Limits.
Cover Girl Killer.
Help!
Deep End.
The Haunted House Of Horror.
Diary Of A Madman.
We should probably follow that old favourite with a completely new semi-regular From The North feature, British TV Adverts Which Include Women With Bloody Annoying Voices. Number one: Louise Gummer (voice like someone with a mouth full of gobstoppers who, also, appears to be unbearably smug) advertising Viking Cruises. Gertcha. Annoying is, actually, far too mild a term for that.
Then, of course, there's number two: Jo Pickard (voice like someone who deserves a good, hard, eye-watering slap. Followed by another. Followed by several more) in the Omaze adverts. You know that 'setting ones teeth on edge' feeling one gets when someone drags their fingers down a blackboard, dear blog reader ...?
Facebook users around the world have, this week, been waking up to find themselves locked out of their accounts for no apparent reason. The message many received read: 'Your Facebook account was disabled because it did not follow our Community Standards. This decision can't be reversed.' One user whinged to the BBC'there was no warning or explanation given.'Facebook's parent firm Meta said that it was investigating. PR consultant Jen Roberts - who, presumably, couldn't get a real job - was one of those to find herself locked out of her account. Despite not being an avid user, finding her account locked was still upsetting: 'All of the images from my university years and family occasions are on Facebook,' she whinged. 'I will no longer have access to fifteen-plus years of content, which is genuinely sad.' Yeah. Welcome to this blogger's world for the last ten months, Jen, m'darlin'. Maybe Facebook simply doesn't like PR consultants, TV reviewers, party planners and all other people with 'that's not a real job'-type jobs? That would certainly explain this blogger's inability to get them to talk to him when he had a - serious - problem. Meta subsequently announced the issue 'had been fixed' as of Friday afternoon. Without saying what the problem actually was. 'Earlier today, a technical issue caused a small number of people to have trouble accessing Facebook,' a company spokesperson told the New York Post. 'We resolved the issue as quickly as possible for everyone who was impacted and we apologise for any inconvenience.' So, Jen can relaxed and access her 'fifteen-plus years of content.' Unlike this blogger who couldn't last July and still can't.
This blogger discovered this week that one of the lads who cleans up the rubbish which has collected on the street outside The Stately Telly Topping Manor Plague House used to live next door to the (former) Stately Telly Topping Manor fifty years ago when yer actual was a youngling. He recognised this blogger. This blogger, on the other hand, utterly failed to recognise him. Proof, one supposes, that yer actual Keith Telly Topping is, sort of, unforgettable.
On Tuesday, for us geet lush luncheon at The Stately Telly Topping Manor Plague House was yet another round of home made beef curry with basmati rice, sliced mushrooms and freshly cooked garlic breed and a nice bottle of pop. Sorted.
Three days later this blogger found himself, once again, taking a brief - and, these dyas, increasingly rare - trip outside the safety of The Stately Telly Topping Manor Plague House and limp (slowly) down to the bus stop on a bright, if extremely chilly, Friday morning.
There was, of course, a reason for this necessary occasion. And it was really deserved.
Do any dear blog readers, Keith Telly Topping wonders, have any ideas what on Earth this blogger could possibly whip up with this lot for Us Supper at The Stately Telly Topping Manor Plague House? This blogger was thinking about doing Lobster Thermidor ... But, the lack of any lobster, fresh cream, a shallot, white wine, mustard and lemon juice kind of put pay to that notion.
For those of you who were wondering about this blogger's ongoing medical situation, a further hospital appointment has been arranged for the week-after-next. During which, this blogger was delighted to discover (irony), that he will be getting yet another endoscopy. This one, however, will be a 'down the throat'-type affair rather than the, ahem, 'up the Gary Glitter till his eyes water' jobbie which Keith Telly Topping had to endure whilst he was an in-patient in February. More news on how distressing and horrific that's going to be once this blogger has had it. And, then recovered his sense of humour. 
And now, dear blog reader, the latest candidates for From The North's Headline Of The Week award. Starting with a mini-classic from the BBC News website: Lamb Chops Stuffed In Car Exhaust In Herefordshire Meat Attack. They even had pictures!
From the same source, there was also Crumbs! Lorry Sheds Biscuit Load Over Derbyshire Road. Expect to see most of these broken biccy packets on sale in a Poundland near you within days. At a somewhat reduced price, obviously.
From the Yorkshire Live website, there's Man On Solo Camping Trip Gets Roped Into All-Night Illegal Rave And 'Thought He Was Going To Get Murdered'. Well, we've all done it. In fact, that sounds like an average Saturday night round The Stately Telly Topping Manor Plague House.
'Bonkers' Council Bans Daffodils Over Health & Safety Fears is The Times' most 'outraged of Eastbourne'-style effort in some considerable time. And, more the sort of thing one would normally expect from the Daily Scum Mail. It'll be Ban This Sick Filth next, mark this blogger's words.
Belfast's Sunday Life, meanwhile, came up with a true, twenty four carat corker. Fake Nun Banned From Clonard Monastery After Eccentric Behaviour. A headline which, to be honest, attempts to write a cheque that the accompanying story simply hasn't got a hope in Hell of cashing.
Still in the Emerald Isle, the Irish Mirra's Barista Ends Up In Hospital After Holding In Farts Around Boyfriend For Two Years is a cautionary tale which all dear blog readers should take careful note of: Where 'eer y'be, let the wind blow free ...
The Irish Mirra's London counterpart, on the other hand, had their own cautionary tale concerning the new world order: Russian Socialites Shopping In Dubai Fuming As Chanel Won't Sell Them Luxury Items. Which is, obviously, a tragedy of monumental proportions (to be completely fair to the Daily Mirra, even they seemed somewhat aware of this).
And, then there's the always reliable Wales Online and their Man Became So Fed Up With Potholes On His Road He Began Planting Flowers In Them. Get yer hair cut, hippy!
But, this blogger believes that the undoubted winner of the From The North Headline Of The Week award for this latest bloggerisationism update goes to the Bournemouth Daily Echo. For Letter: 'Nudists Are A Disgrace To Our Lovely Area'. The spirit of Edna Welthorpe (Mrs) is among us, dear blog reader. Lordy, issa miracle. This blogger feels a quotation from The Hombres is appropriate at this juncture: 'A preachment, dear friends, you are about to receive/On John Barleycorn, nicotine and the temptations of Eve.'
The chocolate-maker Ferrero is recalling batches of Kinder Surprise Eggs in the UK due to a link with salmonella, the Food Standards Agency has said. One is aware of previous cases of salmonella in real eggs, of course, but chocolate ones ...? In an alert, the FSA noted: 'This is in connection with a potential link to a salmonella outbreak. A number of these cases have been young children.'
A man who, according to the Metro's Jessica Kwong, 'tugged one off four times on a two-and-a-half-hour flight' has been banned for life from using Southwest Airlines. 'Tugged one off'? This blogger imagines your parents are so proud of you, Jessica. Antonio Sherrodd McGarity allegedly pulled his pants down and masturbated mid-air 'at least' four times during the journey from Seattle to Phoenix on Saturday morning. Well, once you've had your meal and if the in-flight movie is something you've already seen, what else are you going to do? The woman sitting next to the individual involved took pictures and reported him to a flight attendant when he fell asleep after around an hour of pleasuring himself. She was allowed to move to another seat. When the plane landed and he was, if you will, tossed off (sorry) and arrested, she told police that she had seen him masturbating 'on four separate occasions, using both his left and right hands.' A good trick if you can, ahem, pull it off. Look, this blogger is working with the material that he's given, dear blog reader. McGarity's defence, he told the FBI, was that he had 'asked the woman if she minded whether he masturbated.'
Electric vehicle charging points in a council's car parks have, reportedly, been hacked to show a porn website on their screens. Isle Of Wight Council has three charge points in Ryde, Cowes and Freshwater. In a statement the council apologised 'to anyone that may have found the inappropriate web content.' Or, indeed, got ideas from it. The authority said that staff were due to visit the charge points 'to ensure the third party web address is covered up.' It is understood the chargers were meant to display the network's own website, but the web address had been redirected and was instead taking visitors to a pornographic site. The council said: 'We are saddened to learn that a third-party web address displayed on our electric vehicle signage appears to have been hacked.'
If ever you were looking for a decent excuse to use punctuation properly in texts and on social media, dear blog reader, this is probably it. Oh, and spelling things correctly also pisses them off greatly, this blogger has found.
Pink Floyd have released their first newly created music since 1994's The Division Bell, a single , 'Hey Hey Rise Up' with all proceeds going to Ukraine Humanitarian Relief. Firstly, Mister Bonio out of The U2 Group writes a poem about Ukraine, now this. Haven't those poor Ukrainians suffered enough already?
Pamela Rooke, who became an icon of the British punk rock scene as Jordan, has died aged sixty six. Her partner Nick wrote on Brighton & Hove News: 'She died peacefully a stone's throw away from the sea in her home town of Seaford, East Sussex in the company of her loving family at 9pm last night (Sunday 3 April) ... after a short period of illness, she succumbed to a relatively rare form of cancer known as cholangiocarcinoma (bile duct cancer). Jordan was a wonderful woman and will be remembered for countless decades to come.' With her highly imaginative makeup and clothing, Rooke was a linchpin of the London scene that produced The Sex Pistols, The Clash, Vivienne Westwood and more; her daring fashion sense helped to coalesce punk's aesthetic of leather, rubber, slashed fabric and partial nudity.
Rooke got a job at Westwood and Malcolm McLaren's boutique Sex in her late teens. 'I was running a gauntlet every day. People were scared of me,' she later said of her daring outfits. 'And the funny thing is, I was actually quite shy.' The Sex Pistols were regulars - Glen Matlock worked there at weekends - and Rooke became a mainstay at Pistols gigs, occasionally getting on stage with them. Including, memorably, their TV debut on Granada's So It Goes in which she provocatively wore a swastika. As well as managing Adam & The Ants, she performed with them, including on the song 'Lou' which appeared on the band's first John Peel Show session in 1978. She also managed Wide Boy Awake, featuring guitarist Kevin Mooney, whom she married - they divorced in the mid-1980s. One of her greatest cultural contributions was as something of a muse to film-maker Derek Jarman, who cast her as one of the leads in the fantastical Jubilee, playing a punk called Amyl Nitrate. She also appeared in his debut film, Sebastiane.
Rooke turned away from working in the arts to become a veterinary nurse and cat breeder. 'Things had become too hectic. It sounds really corny, but normality saved my life,' she said. 'A lot of my old teachers still live locally and bring their animals in,' she told the Gruniad in 2016. 'They remember all the trouble I got in at school. I had a row with my headmaster. He said, "I can't have you looking like this. You've got red and pink hair. You've got a Mohican. They'll all start copying you." I told him, "No one's going to copy me. Look at them. They're laughing." They made me wear a headscarf when I walked between lessons. Now these teachers say, "Oh, I always loved how you looked." A bit of history has been rewritten.' She will be portrayed by Game Of Thrones actress Maisie Williams in Danny Boyle's forthcoming Sex Pistols drama Pistol. Rooke recently described how she advised Williams on her performance: 'What I said to her was, "You're in a position of playing a role that is very strong, a strong woman and a woman set apart, really." I decided that I wanted to be me, like a walking work of art ... and I was totally and utterly unshakable. So she had to bring that to the role.'
And, here's a first glimpse of From The North favourite Maisie in the role of Jordan in a publicity shot from Pistol. Please note, that's not your eyes going all funny, dear blog reader, Maisie's nipples have indeed been blurred out. Don't blame this blogger, he rather likes nipples. He even had a couple himself.
Among all the outstanding actors who have appeared in the BBC's EastEnders over the years, none lasted longer, nor retained such huge popular affection, as June Brown, who has died this week aged ninety five. In the role of Dot Cotton, the chain-smoking, hypochondriac launderette manager of Albert Square, Brown created a great Dickensian character full of detail, humanity and colour that enrolled her in the long-running soap's female pantheon, alongside Barbara Windsor's Peggy Mitchell, Wendy Richard's Pauline Fowler, Anita Dobson's Angie Watts and Pam St Clement's Big Fat Cuddly Pat Butcher. Brown joined the cast in 1985, playing for eight successive years until 1993, when she took a break - and appeared in Rodney Ackland's Absolute Hell, a vivid chronicle of bohemian low-life in London just after the Second World War, at The National Theatre, alongside Judi Dench - before returning to Albert Square in 1997 and continuing for more than twenty years more, announcing in 2020 she had left the soap 'for good.'
As Dot, she gossiped for Britain, battled heroically with a wayward son (Nasty Nick), lost her job, helped her best friend to a comfortable death, married and lost a husband, Jim Branning (John Bardon) and maintained a running sparring match with Leonard Fenton's kindly GP, Doctor Legg. She often came out with the unexpected and a nation hung on every word, inhaled every puff, as she gallivanted spikily among her neighbours. Only an actor of vast experience, in life and in show business, could possibly have played and sustained such a role. Brown qualified, gloriously, on both counts. Apart from anything else, she produced six children in seven and a half years with her second husband, all of them in her fourth decade. 'Here's a funny thing,' she said, quoting Max Miller, 'when I was in hospital, having given birth to my first child, I did my ballet exercises every day at the end of my bed. A week later, when I left the hospital, my waist had reduced to twenty four inches; ironic, given how much I shunned exercise as a girl - and how little I do now!' When she appeared in Calendar Girls in the West End in 2009, aged eighty two, she claimed she was the only one of the replacement cast who stripped completely naked for the photo call. She simply could not care less about propriety or coy camouflage. She was one of those rare people in life, let alone the theatre, who simply said what she thought, did what she felt like and got away with it.
Four years after Calendar Girls, in 2013, she bonded big-time with Lady Gaga on The Graham Norton Show, to such an extent that it was she who came across as the more outlandishly eccentric and hilarious of the duo. Sipping from a large glass of red wine, she had the audience, and her fellow couch squatters, who included Jude Law, eating out of her hand for half-an-hour. Following her death, The Times 'paid tribute' to her by quoting - out of context - her memoir when she once admitted that she loved nothing more as a child than 'gassing rabbits'. 'There was nothing June Brown liked better than putting a rabbit in a biscuit tin, gassing it, and then cutting it up,'The Times obituary began, to the reported outrage on many fans. (Mind you, that's according to the Daily Mirra, the - alleged - 'newspaper' that recently claimed Huge Grant was going to be the next Doctor. And, before that, Kris Marshall was going to be Peter Capaldi's replacement. And that they never - not never - hacked anyone's phones, no siree Bob. So taking this alleged 'outrage' with a whole vat of salt is probably advisable.) The actress previously wrote in her autobiography, Before The Year Dot: 'Nowadays, people would scream in horror at the thought, but we were not sentimental about field animals. I loved dissection.'
June was born in Needham Market, Suffolk, the third of five children of Henry Brown, an entrepreneur in the expanding market of electrical gadgets and appliances and his wife, Louisa. She was educated at St John's Church of England school in Ipswich and, as a scholarship girl, at Ipswich high school. After wartime evacuation to Leicester, she served in the Wrens from 1944 to 1945, trained at the Old Vic School in London and joined the Old Vic company where, in the 1948 season, she appeared in Congreve's The Way Of The World, Chekhov's The Cherry Orchard and Marlowe's Doctor Faustus, in a company that also included Edith Evans, Faith Brook, Harry Andrews, Robert Eddison and Donald Sinden. She worked her way diligently round the reps, coming to a greater prominence in two seasons at the Shakespeare Memorial Theatre in Stratford-upon-Avon (1955 to 1957) and the Birmingham Rep where, in 1958, she played the title role in Hedda Gabler ('one of the most beautiful creatures I've seen on a stage' said the actor Nigel Hawthorne) and Lady Macbeth opposite rising star Albert Finney. Small roles on TV followed through the 1960s and 70s - in both Dixon Of Dock Green and Z Cars, though by now she was up to her elbows in children. Still, she managed appearances in The Rough & Ready Lot (1959) by Alun Owen, with Jack MacGowran and Ronald Harwood as soldiers of fortune at The Lyric, Hammersmith and in John Vanbrugh's Restoration classic The Provok'd Wife in a 1963 revival at the Vaudeville with Eileen Atkins and Dinsdale Landen. Appearing in many TV plays in the 60s, she also featured regularly in the Prospect touring company, based at the Arts in Cambridge, the launching pad of Ian McKellen, under the direction of Toby Robertson and Richard Cottrell. She maintained her 'serious' connections at The Royal Court in two controversial plays: Life Price (1969) by Michael O'Neill and Jeremy Seabrook, directed by Peter Gill, a play about a child murder on a Midlands housing estate which emptied the theatre for ten days then packed it out for two weeks when the doors were thrown open free of charge; and Just A Little Bit Less Than Normal (1976) by Nigel Baldwin, in which she played the mother of a young victim (Karl Johnson) of terrorist violence. In both, she represented an authentic voice of working-class anger.
On TV, her CV also included appearances in The Case Of The Frightened Lady, Television Playhouse, Teletale, The Wednesday Play, Owen MD, New Scotland Yard, General Hospital, Special Branch, South Riding, Churchill's People, The Prince & The Pauper, Couples, Angels, Clayhanger, Survivors, The Duchess Of Duke Street, God's Wonderful Railway, Play For Today, Lace, Now & Then, Minder, The Bill, Pirates, Doomwatch and Would I Lie To You? And, in the movies Inadmissible Evidence, Sunday Bloody Sunday, Straw Dogs, Don Sharp's mad-as-toast Psychomania, Murder By Decree, Nijinsky, The Mambo Kings and Bean.
Although she played the timid, maternal Mrs Parsons in three episodes of Coronation Street in 1970, the aristocratic Lady Eleanor in the classic four-part Mister Pertwee Doctor Who serial The Time Warrior in 1973 and had a scene-stealing role in an early episode of The Sweeney, it was EastEnders that changed her life. Dot kept her busy but she did manage another couple of low-life spirits - Nannie Slagg in Gormenghast (2000), with Warren Mitchell, Celia Imrie and Christopher Lee and a cleaning lady in Margery & Gladys (2003), a black comedy caper of a haughty widow (That Awful Keith Woman) and her cleaner (Brown) going on the run after mistakenly believing they has killed a teenage burglar; they evaded the police (Roger Lloyd Pack and Martin Freeman) and departed for the Caribbean after a night in Blackpool. A Conservative voter, Brown was appointed MBE in 2008 and OBE earlier this year. She published her autobiography, Before The Year Dot, in 2013.
She was married to the actor John Garley from 1950 until he took his own life in 1957. She married the actor Robert Arnold the following year. He died in 2003. Brown is survived by five children from her second marriage - Chloe, William, Naomi, Sophie and Louise. Another daughter, also Chloe, died as a baby.
And finally, dear blog reader, this blogger recently became aware of just how much the 1969-era John Lennon (specifically on Angus McBean's proposed, but unused, Get Back LP cover) looks uncannily like Dylan, The Hippy Rabbit off The Magic Roundabout. Keith Telly Topping reckons there's a 'separated at birth' if ever there was one ...

The Green-Eyed Monster Which Doth Mock The Meat It Feeds On

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'She killed my father and she released a demon.' So, Legend Of The Sea Devils then, dear blog reader. Do you know what? This blogger thought that was bloody great. No surprise there, clearly. This blogger is nothing if not as predictable-as-ever.
'That's the trouble with history, never the same as the books. Same with Stephen King movies!' The episode was, as expected, a right rip-roaring rollercoaster of high-sea shenanigans with rough-tough sailors tossing in their hammocks. Or something. Wor Geet Canny Jodie's second-to-last Doctor Who adventure ticked the majority of the boxes that it was expected to and, indeed, that it needed to. It was a load of not-too-serious fun (Doctor Who does Pirates Of The Caribbean, in essence) and it worked on that level and a couple of other levels too.
'We've crossed paths once or twice.' For their third appearance in Doctor Who - and first since 1984 - the titular aquatic reptiles were fantastically redesigned. Chibnall and Ella Road's script was decent enough with plenty of action and some good dialogue ('Oi, fins off!') with Jodie herself getting most of the best lines ('You're not the same as the other Land Crawlers.''Correct, I crawled in from a different land'). And it was gorgeously shot by Haolu Wang. We had swordfights, ghost ships, magical crystals, moral and relationship dilemmas, properly fine special effects and gloriously bonkers technobabble. And the final scene was just perfect ('I wish this would go on forever'). To sum up, then, this blogger thought it was great.
In the lead-up to the episode's broadcast, barely a day went by without the Radio Times - which used to be a quality magazine when it was written by and run by adults - managing to churn out yet anotherDoctor Who-related story. Some of them were rather good, admittedly, like a link to the BBC Media Centre's in-depth preview of the episode, featuring interviews with The Chib, Jodie, Mandip and Bish.
Others were suitably informative and revelatory, like a piece which described just how close Chibnall and Jodie came to leaving the series two years ago as the effects of the pandemic threatened to completely derail production on what eventually became last year's six-part Flux storyline. 'We had to ditch our original idea and I had to write a new script in just over a week,' Chibnall whinged (not unreasonably). 'You can't just go, "Right, we've got the series and then we'll do the specials." You're constantly on this treadmill.' The full text of Chib's extensive interview with Robin Parker can be read here.
And then there were those - many, many - 'articles' which were either a) unadulterated - second-hand - diarrhoea, b) speculative nonsense designed purely to fill pages and/or elicit page-clicks on the Radio Times website or, c) both. Take, for instance, this piece of nothing, based on a couple of stray comments made by Jodie Whittaker and John Bishop in - separate - interviews about the forthcoming regeneration episode which had a headline that was writing a cheque the accompanying story couldn't possibly hope to cash. Or, thissomething-over-nothing'exclusive' in which Chibnall said he expects Russell Davies to 'ignore' all of Chib's changes to Doctor Who's history when Big Rusty takes over showrunning duties. Something which Big Rusty has got far too much class to even consider doing. Or, indeed, this ... thing (this blogger is struggling to work out exactly what the point of this 'article' is supposed to be). Sweet baby Jeebus, dear blog reader, does anyone else remember when the Radio Times's alleged Doctor Who specialist, That There Huw Fullerton, wrote something which was actually a piece of properly-researched journalism? No, this blogger neither, he's only fifty eight after all. And as for Patrick Mulkern's 'I knew who The Sea Devils were in the 1970s, you younglings didn't''review' of the episode ... Frankly, dear blog reader, words fail this blogger. Which is something that rarely (if ever) happens.
Mind you, dear blog reader, let it not be presumed that cruddy, one-dimensional, local paper-style journalism concerning Doctor Who-related stories are a new thing. Here, for example, is a recently rediscovered 1976 piece from the Bishopbriggs Times about then then-teenage Doctor Who fan Peter Capaldi and his brushes with Mister Pertwee, Lis Sladen and Good Old Mad Tom.
Last year, dear blog reader, the very lovely author and editor Stacey Smith asked yer actual Keith Telly Topping if he would like to contribute something by way of an episode review to ATB Publishing's forthcoming Outside In Walks With Fire: Fifty Five New Perspectives on Fifty Five Twin Peaks Stories by Fifty Five Writers (which is due out around June, apparently). Which Keith Telly Topping did. And, it seemed to go down adequately since this week, this blogger has been asked to do something for the same publisher's Outside In Regenerates: One Hundred & Sixty New Perspectives On One Hundred & Sixty Classic Doctor Who Stories By One Hundred & Sixty Writers. This blogger bit his lip concerning his utter loathing for the term 'classic' in this context since, as far as Keith Telly Topping is concerned, Doctor Who 1963 to 2022, it's all the same popular, long-running family SF drama and it's all classic! It's this blogger's issue, dear blog reader, he'll try to deal with it in his own unique way. And, probably, fail. Anyway, Keith Telly Topping was agreeable to this request and only went and nabbed his favourite ever Doctor Who story - The Aztecs - to witter on about, wrote approximately one thousand words in far less time than it should have taken him (though, to be fair, he used to be quite good at this authoring lark. Sometime last century) and he has, since, had word back that they rather liked it.
So, that's this blogger's way of proving that From The North isn't his sole creative outlet these days. Of course, he did also contribute to 2015's You & Who Else and 2019's Me & The Starman just to demonstrate that he can still rough up an article/review/think-piece when the mood takes him or someone asks him. Nicely. Keith Telly Topping, dear blog readers, thoroughly available for publication commissions. And, also weddings, funerals, bah-mitzvahs et cetera ...
Also this week, this blogger thought he might as well take the opportunity to post the now-famous The Young Doctors image once more onto his Facebook page before it needs changing again. Which seemed popular with this blogger's dear Facebook fiends judging from the comments he received.
For anyone wondering, the list goes as follows: Thirties Matinee Idol; Bela Lugosi, Master Seaman Pertwee; Noël Coward; The keyboard player in Hawkwind; Seventies porn star; Brian Clough; A member of Top-Pop-Combo Jo Boxers; Serial killer; Anxious 1990s New Labour MP in a marginal seat; Patrick Troughton, seemingly; Err ... Matt Smith; Knitwear model; Wor Geet Canny Jodie. Though, for the sake of completeness, it's probably necessary to add numbers fifteen to nineteen (see below). And, don't get this blogger started on the issue of the faces seen in The Brain Of Morbius, dear blog reader, or we'll be here all night.
This blogger seems to only be watching Picard episodes in multiples of two these days (his own choice, let it be noted, no one's forcing him to do it that way). The Gala episode - Two Of One - was a rather good miniature Mission: Impossible movie and gorgeous to look at (mostly due to Alison Pill's astonishingly impressive cleavage. She's definitely got a couple of big things going for her, that lady). The Jean-Luc's Dangerous Mind/Mommy Issues episode - Monsters - though ... Well, positives first, guest-star James Callis was properly terrific in it. But, the plot meandered all over the place and, often, not in a remotely good way (as 'dream episodes' can tend to do). This blogger did enjoy the last five minutes, though, even if there was nowhere near enough of Agnes's chest on display.
Good Friday saw a welcome showing of the great Carry On Screaming on ITV3. Featuring one future Doctor, two almost-but-not-quite Doctors and the greatest bit of comedy blackboard writing in the history of blackboard written comedy. Bar none.
Then, there was Sunday's showing of Where Eagles Dare on ITV4. Because, nothing commemorates the sacrifice and martyrdom of Our Lord like Richard and Clint moving down half the Wehrmacht with machine guns, does it?
This week, in actual fact, started rather oddly for this blogger with a distinctly queer Sunday in so many ways. Albeit, it was a day which could be viewed as somewhat atypical of this blogger's average day at The Stately Telly Topping Manor Plague House since he got out of hospital: Woke really early due to ongoing insomnia issues (see below for more on this), watched the Australian Grand Prix, had cereal for breakfast, did the weekly washing, took the vacuum cleaner over the front room, got fatigued, had a nap, woke up, had eggs and bacon for us dinner, got fatigued again, had another nap, had a bath and by about 6pm this blogger was utterly exhausted and, frankly, ready for his pit. Most days are not wholly dissimilar to this (except for the bit about the Grand Prix, obviously).
On Wednesday, this blogger attended a family funeral at The Crem on the West Road (which, movie fans my enjoy knowing featured, albeit briefly, in Get Carter). Keith Telly Topping seems to have reached that age, dear blog reader, where he is attending more funerals than weddings and christenings put together these days. It was a beautiful - humanist - service but a very sad occasion, obviously.
On Tuesday, dear blog reader, Keith Telly Topping enjoyed a rare - dare one suggest, these days almost unique - afternoon social engagement; a geet lush and mad-sexy luncheonette with his good fiend Young Malcolm (one of only a handful of people this blogger knows with a greater knowledge of British horror movies and archive TV than Keith Telly Topping his very self). The event was made slightly less enjoyable by this blogger getting soaked right through to his vest on the way home due to a downpour of quasi-biblical proportions. At least, that's his story and he's sticking to it. But the meal, itself, at this blogger's current favourite restaurant in the whole wide world, bar none, the Little Asia on Stowell Street, was proper-excellent. The main course, in particular - this blogger went for King Prawn Curry with Egg-Fried Rice - was, needless to say, really deserved.
Young Malcolm and this blogger also made tentative arrangements to meet up again shortly - probably sometime in the next couple of weeks, this blogger's health and several forthcoming medical appointments notwithstanding - to see Operation Mincemeat, a movie with a subject matter which fascinates both of us. It's a film with a great cast - including several From The North favourites like Matthew Macfadyen, Kelly Macdonald, Mark Gatiss and Hello To Jason Isaacs - which has been getting fine reviews (and, a grudgingly sniffy one from some slaphead of no importance at the Gruniad Morning Star). So this blogger is looking forward to seeing it and to deciding if it's as good as the previous movie adaptation of the same events, 1956's excellent The Man Who Never Was.
This blogger is not sure whether one is actually allowed to eat-of-the-meat on a Good Friday or whether it should be a strict diet of chocolate eggs in memory of Our Lord and his affinity with bunnies. Or Something. Much less, whether tea and buttered toast is allowed. Nevertheless, another Breakfast At Morrisons-type malarkey occurred on this particular Good Friday.
Of course, what Our Lord, his very holy self makes of all thischocolate bunnies-type malarkey is not, at this time, known. Oh, hang on dear blog reader, this just in ...
And, indeed, this.
From Our Lord to Richard Osman who is reported to be leaving the hit BBC quiz show Pointless, the corporation has confirmed. The fifty one-year-old has appeared on the show since 2009, filming more than thirteen hundred episodes across almost thirty series. But in recent years, he has had to juggle his TV commitments with writing his successful Thursday Murder Club series of crime novels. Host Alexander Armstrong (the Andrew Ridgley of the operation) will remain on Pointless and Osman will continue to appear on its z-list celebrity spin-off. Osman will also continue to present his own - really extremely irritating - BBC2 show House Of Games.
And now, dear blog reader, 'surprise casting decision for Bill & Ted remake shocks fans ...'
Boris Johnson's - really funny - fine for breaching lockdown rules is the 'most severe constitutional crisis involving a Prime Minister,' a historian has claimed. He added: 'See that Boris Johnson. He's toast, he is.' Probably. History of government 'expert' Lord Hennessy told the BBC that Bashing Boris had 'broken the law' (kind of implicit in him getting fined, this blogger would've said), 'misled Parliament' (which Bashing Boris denies and will, in all likelihood, attempt to weasel his way out of by claiming he believed what he was telling fellow MPs was true, even though it - clearly - wasn't) and 'shredded the ministerial code.' Speaking after news of the fine was announced, Johnson said people 'had the right to expect better' from him. No shit, Sherlock? You're the Prime Minister - it might be an idea to start acting like it. Johnson has since said it 'did not occur' to him at the time that the 'brief' gathering in the Cabinet Room to mark his birthday in June 2020 could be in contravention of Covid lockdown rules. But, it was. He is known to have attended at least two further events of the twelve currently being investigated by Plod, meaning he could, potentially, be fined again. Twice. One - anonymous and, therefore, possibly fictitious - Downing Street aide, who witnessed many of the events under investigation, snitched to the BBC News website that the birthday party was 'the least serious' gathering, in terms of potential rule-breaking, that Johnson attended. The Prime Minister reportedly intends to 'update' MPs on the fine after they return from their Easter break on Tuesday. Opposition parties are investigating ways to hold him to account for what they see as misleading statements to Parliament and naughty, law-breaking ways. Well, good luck with that. Hennessy said: 'I think we're in the most severe constitutional crisis involving a Prime Minister that I can remember.' He added when Johnson and Rishi Sunak were fined on Tuesday, he wrote in his diary: 'Tuesday 12 April 2022 will be forever remembered as a dark bleak day for public and political life' and the Prime Minister had become 'the great debaser in modern times of decency in public and political life and of our constitutional conventions.' What Johnson wrote in his diary is not, at this time, known (given that he was educated at Eton, it is not entirely certain that he can write at all) but it may well have been similar to Captain Darling's note on discovering that he was being sent over-the-top by General Melchett. 'The Prime Minister sealed his place in British history as the first lawbreaker to have occupied the premiership,' Hennessy wrote. Well, the first law-breaker to actually get caught, at least. He said Johnson had turned his position into 'an adventure playground for his narcissistic vanity.' And, this is 'news' how, exactly? He's always done that. Lord Hennessy accused the Prime Minister of having 'broken the law, misled Parliament and has, in effect, shredded the ministerial code' when he 'should be the guardian of the code.' The Prime Minister is under intense pressure to justify why he previously told MPs that rules in Downing Street 'were followed at all times.' When they, clearly, were not or anything even remotely like it. Opposition MPs have accused him of misleading the House of Commons, which they say would break the ministerial code and be a resigning offence. And, also, being a mad-haired buffoon with shit-for-brains. Which may or may not be true but it's a subject which is at least worthy of debate in the public arena. Lord Hennessy said Johnson's decision not to resign immediately upon being fined by The Fuzz for his naughty law-breaking ways showed 'complete and utter disdain for the decency of our constitutional conventions.' And, again, this constitutes 'news', apparently. He also criticised ministers defending Johnson's conduct on the airwaves and their use of the situation in Ukraine to argue that there should not be a leadership contest at this time by saying they 'cannot ignore the decency of your own system.' But, they can and they will unless forced to do otherwise. Not by public revulsion (there's plenty of that about but it, seemingly, matters not-a-sod to most Tories) but, rather by their own backbenchers suddenly realising that Johnson has become an erection liability in much the same way as That Awful Thatcher Woman who was, amusingly, stabbed in the back in 1990. Hell hath no fury like a Conservative MP with a slim majority and a general erection on the horizon. Hennessy added: 'The Queen's First Minister is now beyond doubt a rogue Prime Minister, unworthy of her, her Parliament, her people and her kingdom.' Yeah, pretty much. 'I cannot remember a day when I have been more fearful for the well-being of the constitution. It's an assault on not just the decent state of mind which keeps our society open and clean but also on the institutions of the state. If he's not prepared to do the decent thing ... why should anybody else behave decently and properly? The whole decency of our public life turns on this question.'
Senior Tories have, reportedly, 'warned' that traditional supporters are abandoning the party after Boris Johnson's Partygate fine, as another MP broke cover to say the Prime Minister should be removed over his conduct. Mind you, this is according to the Gruniad Morning Star so this blogger wouldn't advise anyone take this as gospel. Conservative MPs across the country, the Gruniad claim, said they believed many people who had backed the party in the past were now 'raising concerns,' with Downing Street braced for further fixed-penalty notices relating to parties in the coming days. Writing in the Gruniad's sister paper, the equally Middle Class hippy Communist vegan quiche-eating Observer, former immigration minister Caroline Nokes said that she was sticking with her decision to submit a letter of no confidence in the Prime Minister. But, he's gaffer-taped his large ass to his chair in the Cabinet Room and he's not going anywhere, it would seem. So, what are you gonna do about it, Caroline? Stage a palace coup? Go on, then, give it your best shot and let us all know how you got on. The Conservative Party, meanwhile, have, apparently, issued a statement in which they blame all of their, many, current problems on 'the actions of a simple-minded oaf.' When informed of this, Bashing Boris was heard to reply: 'It's nice of the chaps to blame everything on an oaf, but I can't help feeling I'm partly to blame.'
Meanwhile, Russia has banned Prime Minister - and criminal - Bashing Boris Johnson and other senior ministers from entering Russia over the UK's 'hostile' stance on Vlad The Small's war with Ukraine. Now, why didn't someone in this country think about imposing a similar sanction on Bashing Boris to keep him out of our lives? Foreign Secretary Liz Truss, Defence Secretary Ben Wallace and ten other senior politicians - mostly members of the Cabinet - have also been barred. Not that any of them were planning on going to Russia any time soon, of course. So, really, it's about as effective an announcement as all the 'Putin - and his really small penis - are guilty of war crimes' hand-wringing from Middle Class hippy Communist Gruniad Morning Star-reading vegan quiche-eaters when there is sod-all chance of Vlad The Small - and his really small penis - ever, actually, standing trial for his alleged sick and genocidal crimes against humanity. Moscow said that the decision to ban Bashing Boris from darkening their door again had been made 'in retaliation' to the UK's sanctions against it since it invaded Ukraine. No shit? Not because of him having a penchant for attending illegal lockdown raves, then? For a moment, there, it appeared that Russia had - collectively - developed a moral compas but, seemingly, not. In March, Moscow imposed a similar ban on US President Joe Biden. Who, also, wasn't intending on going there.
Speaking of the Gruniad Morning Star, this blogger highly recommends Miranda Bryant's interview with From The North favourite Nicola Walker, Mike Ripley's obituary of the author Harry Patterson (best known, under his pen-name Jack Higgins, for The Eagle Has Landed) and the always-excellent Toby Hadoke's obituary of Ron Pember. Also for your consideration, dear blog reader, the Doctor Who News webpage's obituary of Sonny Caldinez.
On Jimmy Kimmel Livethis week, the host spoke about Joe Biden's extension of America's national emergency status, with Covid cases on the rise again. 'At this point, Covid is like the Bachelor franchise: they announce a new variant before the old one's wrapped up,' he said. On Sean Hannity's FOX show, now extremely former President Mister Rump called to say that he would be handling the current crises 'better' than Biden, focusing on Russian's invasion of Ukraine. Kimmel said if Rump was in charge now, 'he'd be throwing rolls of paper towels at Ukrainian refugees.' Hannity tried to, once again, get the extremely former President on-record against Putin, but Rump refused, instead bragging about their friendship. 'There are bodybags on-screen [and] he's bragging about the dudes he knows,' Kimmel said. Rump then decided to talk about the danger of windmills and how they are currently killing eagles. 'What is the deal with him and windmills?' Kimmel asked. 'Did he have a traumatic mini-golf experience as a child? Maybe that's why his hair is like that?' He added: 'I feel like the hamster that powers his brain is getting tired.'
A new From The North feature now, dear blog reader.
In no particular order, then, Child In The House.
Death Goes To School. In which the script has proud Scotsman Gordon Jackson paraphrasing Robbie Burns's To A Louse, On Seeing One On A Lady's Bonnet At Church and then claiming to Sam Kydd that it's from Shakespeare. Careless.
Playback.
Stranger From Venus.
Date With Disaster.
Snowball.
Night Tide.
The Gentle Trap.
Death Line.
The Trollenberg Terror.
Ooh! You Are Awful. Starring Dick Emery, Ronald Fraser, Derren Nesbitt and Cheryl Kennedy ...
... but, most notably, Cheryl Kennedy's bottom (always assuming a stunt-arse wasn't used for that particular sequence, of course). 'Now, we'll have one more. This time, try not to smile!'
House Of The Long Shadows.
The Monster That Challenged The World.
The Atomic Brain.
Daughters Of Satan.
Be My Guest.
So you see, dear blog reader, insomnia isn't all bad. At least, if you enjoy watching pre-breakfast 1950s b-movies, obviously. Which, fortunately, this blogger does. Sometimes.
NASA's Hubble Space Telescope has spotted the largest icy comet nucleus ever seen by astronomers, as it inches closer to The Sun and offers scientists a closer look. Named comet C/2014 UN271 (Bernardinelli-Bernstein), the icy giant has been traveling at twenty two thousand miles per hour from the edge of the solar system. It is estimated to have a diameter of approximately eighty miles across. The nucleus of the comet is about fifty times larger than the heart of most comets, according to NASA and its mass is estimated to be five hundred trillion tons. That's one hundred thousand times greater than the mass of a typical comet. So, if it lands on your head, dear blog reader, it's likely going to hurt a bit. It was first identified in 2019 by astronomers Pedro Bernardinelli and Gary Bernstein in Chile. At the time, the comet was three billion miles away from The Sun, about the average distance to Neptune.
Four astronauts have left Earth on the first all-private mission to the International Space Station. The four men are called The Axiom-1 Crew. Axiom is a commercial spaceflight company that hopes to build its own space station in the next few years. The crew lifted away from Florida's Kennedy Space Center on a SpaceX Falcon rocket on 8 April. A former US space agency astronaut, Michael López-Alegría, is commanding the mission. Flying alongside him are US real estate entrepreneur and aerobatic pilot Larry Connor, Israeli investor and philanthropist Eytan Stibbe and Canadian entrepreneur, investor and philanthropist Mark Pathy. They will get to spend eight days aboard the ISS, conducting scientific research and a number of outreach projects. And, by the time you read this, dear blog reader, they'll likely be back home.
Grime artiste Dizzee Rascal (he's a popular beat combo, yer honour) has been handed a one-year restraining order and a twenty four-week curfew for assaulting his former fiancée. The rapper, whose real name is Dylan Kwabena Mills, had denied assault by beating. But, the judge wasn't having it and the thirty seven-year-old, of Sevenoaks, Kent, was found extremely guilty of attacking Cassandra Jones in Streatham in June 2021. The court heard the artist behind chart-topping singles 'Bonkers' and 'Dance Wiv Me', was 'frustrated' over custody arrangements and the pair had an argument when he dropped off their daughter at the property. Mills had assaulted Jones by pressing his forehead against hers and pushing her to the ground during a 'chaotic' row, the trial heard, when he accused her of causing injuries to his arm. He was given a community order with a twenty four-week curfew and told he must wear an electronic tag. The judge said she was 'satisfied' giving Mills an additional twelve-month restraining order was a 'necessary and proportionate' measure. Mills was also ordered to pay two thousand one hundred and ninety knicker in costs and a ninety five quid surcharge.
Pakistan's full-of-his-own-importance Prime Minister Imran Khan has been ousted from power after losing a no-confidence vote in his leadership. The vote was held past midnight after opposition parties brought a motion against him. The motion was first brought last week, but the former international cricketer blocked it by dissolving parliament. Sunday's vote took place after the country's Supreme Court ruled in favour of opposition parties and said that Khan had acted unconstitutionally. Opposition leader Shehbaz Sharif - who is expected to be chosen as the new Prime Minister on Monday - said Pakistan and its parliament were 'finally freed from a serious crisis,' adding in a tweet: 'Congratulations to the Pakistani nation on a new dawn.'
Police in Arizona have arrested a man after one hundred and eighty three animals, including dogs, cats and birds were found in his freezer. Michael Turland admitted freezing some of the animals while they were still alive, the Mohave County Sheriff's office said. He has been charged with ninety four counts of animal cruelty. Images from the scene 'were absolutely disgusting and heart-breaking,' said sheriff's spokeswoman Anita Mortensen. 'As an animal lover I was crying just looking at them,' she told the BBC, adding that the photos were too graphic to release.
The outstanding winner of the latest From The North Headline Of The Week award goes to the Halifax Courier for Row Over Toilets At Calderdale School - Parents Say Pupils Forced To Choose Between Queuing For Loos Or Having Their Lunch. Or, they could get their lunch first and then eat it whilst sitting on the netty. Or is that too radical a suggestion?
Still on a somewhat lavatorial theme, the BBC News website deserves some credit for their effort Llandudno: Woman Trapped In Toilet Had To Pay To Get Out. Oh, dear - what can the matter be? It seems that one Lucy Wishart paid thirty pence to use the loo and then became trapped. She had to phone her husband, Ian, who was nearby, to ask him to insert another thirty pee to open the door, after following advice on the inside of the convenience which read 'do not panic.' It makes a change from the graffiti you usually get in public conveniences, doesn't it? Whether Lucy was having a slash or a dump whilst she was in there, however, we just don't know.
And then, there's this ...
And, indeed, this.
Bruno Guimarães Rodriguez Moura struck deep into stoppage time to give this blogger's beloved (and now, mercifully, sold) Magpies victory over Leicester City and edge Th' Toon a step closer to Premier League survival. The Brazilian midfielder - fast becoming a crowd favourite at St James' - cancelled out Ademola Lookman's opener on the half-hour mark before the two sides played out a strangely subdued second half. But in the fifth minutes of added time, a low cross by substitute Joe Willock bounced up kindly for Guimarães to snatch a dramatic winner with a diving header at The Gallowgate End. It was Newcastle's eighth victory in the last twelve games and their fifth straight win at a rockin' St James' Park. Guimarães was Newcastle's first big signing under their new owners, arriving from Lyon in the January transfer window for an initial thirty five million notes and has helped provide the impetus to push The Magpies towards safety. And, despite arriving as a defensive midfielder, the twenty four-year-old now has three goals from five Premier League starts and said that his winner was the first headed goal of his career. Th' Toon now have thirty seven points - twelve clear of the relegation zone and three behind ninth-placed Leicester, whose five-game unbeaten run came to a dramatic end. Leicester arrived on Tyneside buoyed by Thursday's Europa League win at PSV Eindhoven, which saw the club reach the Semi-Finals of a European competition for the first time. The Foxes have struggled to defend set-pieces this season yet they opened the scoring with a training-ground routine of their own, Lookman's eighth goal of the season capping a bright start. Ayoze Perez superbly laid on James Maddison's equaliser in Eindhoven and the Spaniard repeated the trick against his former club. But the visitors' Achilles heel was exposed again eleven minutes later, from the first corner they conceded. Newcastle centre-half Dan Burn leaned over Daniel Amartey to head down Jonjo Shelvey's inswinging delivery, before Guimarães poked the ball goalwards from in front of Kasper Schmeichel and then bundled it into the net while both players were on the deck. At first glance it appeared Guimarães had knocked the ball from the Denmark keeper's grasp. However, the video assistant, Lee Mason, recommended referee Jarred Gillett looked at his pitchside monitor and replays clearly showed the ball had been stuck between Schmeichel's legs, rather than his hands. That leveller lifted the hosts and they finished the first half on top, before Leicester dominated possession after the break with Newcastle still the more threatening. But they failed to create any clear-cut chances until Burn sent a header wide from a late corner, while Leicester substitute Kelechi Iheanacho went close at the other end.
Construction of the so-called Whey Aye in Newcastle remains on hold - with the war in Ukraine cited as the latest reason for delays to the one hundred million knicker project. Just one more thing to drag Vlad The Small - and his really tiny penis - to The Hague over, one could suggest. Plans for the four hundred and sixty feet observation wheel, the tallest in Europe, were backed three years ago by the council. Work had been due to start in 2020 but was pushed back multiple times due to 'disruption' caused by the pandemic. There is still no sign of any building work starting on the site in Ouseburn.
A vehicle painted to look like The Mystery Machine from Scooby-Doo, Where Are You? has been stopped by police in a case of the missing MOT. BCH Road Policing Unit sneered on Twitter that they had spotted the van 'touring around Hertfordshire.' When they pulled the van over, they said it became a 'mystery as to where the MOT was' as the 'driver unfortunately didn't know either.' Because, dear blog reader, there is nothing funnier in the wide, wide world of minor criminality than a member of The Filth with delusions of being a stand-up comedy genius and access to social media.
And finally for the latest bloggerisationism update, dear blog reader, '... is comin' like a ghost town,' perhaps?

"Good Without Evil Is Like Light Without Darkness"

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'Nothing is forever. No regeneration, no life. Beware of the forces that mass against you. And their Master.' Two much-loved former Doctor Who companions will reappear in Jodie Whittaker's final adventure later this year. The characters of Tegan and Ace will join The Doctor and her current companions, Yaz and Dan, in the episode which is due to be broadcast this autumn. The news was revealed in a trailer which followed the show's Easter special, Legend Of The Sea Devils, on Sunday. Which this blogger thought was great. The forty five second trailer also revealed that the episode will feature The Doctor's arch-nemesis, The Master (Sacha Dhawan) and two of her most famous foes, The Daleks and The Cybermen. More familiar faces will also appear in the special: Vinder (Jacob Anderson) and Kate Stewart (Jemma Redgrave) will both return, having appeared in Doctor Who's last full series, Flux, in late 2021. Although he wasn't featured in the trailer, That There Bradley Walsh is also strongly rumoured to feature in the episode. Tegan Jovanka, an Australian air stewardess and 'mouth on legs', appeared on the BBC's popular, long-running family SF drama between 1981 and 1984 as a companion to Tom Baker and Peter Davison's Doctors. She is played by the Goddess that is Janet Fielding (you knew that, right?) who said: 'In some ways it was a very different experience to what it was like when I finished recording in 1983, but in many ways it was very similar. It was so lovely to be a working member of the Doctor Who family again.' Ace was The Doctor's baseball bat-wielding companion from 1987 to 1989 alongside Sylvester McCoy. Actress Sophie Aldred said: 'It's been quite a challenge to have such a big secret to keep, even from my family and I couldn't be more thrilled and excited to have been asked back. I hope everyone enjoys it as much as I adored being part of the TARDIS team again.' Outgoing showrunner Chris Chibnall recently told Radio Times that the forthcoming episode would include several 'treats' for fans, including 'Easter eggs and kisses to the past.'
Of course, not surprisingly since this isDoctor Who fandom we're talking about, there was absolute Hell-on shortly after this news was announced. From fans in various other parts of the world - mainly America - who hadn't seen Legend Of The Sea Devils or the 'Coming Soon' trailer but were still active on Facebook and Twitter. And who were, they claimed, pure-dead angry that their own viewing had been 'spoiled' by people - in the country in which the show is, actually, made - talking about the return of Tegan and Ace. After it has been announced by the BBC. This blogger had a feeling something like this was going to become an issue so he specifically asked those contributing to his own Facebook page in advance to be hyper-spoiler-aware. Something which was, of course, immediately ignored by one punter who posted a photo of the two actresses concerned. That went down spectacularly badly with at least one of this blogger's Facebook fiends who was mad-vexed by all this spoilerific malarkey. But, at the end of the day, this blogger's view is that the production have announced a casting decision - not a plot-spoiler - the 'news' of which appeared on the BBC News website (among many other media outlets) within minutes of the episode ending in the UK. The BBC being, just to repeat the bleeding obvious, the people who make the sodding show in the first place. Thus it was, frankly, a bit daft for anyone to expect fans in the UK not to wish to talk about it because others elsewhere in the world - again, most notably, though not exclusively, in America - may not, yet, have seen it. That's the modern world for you, kids - once something's out there, it's hard to keep pretty much anything a secret for long. You know, dear blog reader, it's funny, back in the 1980s Doctor Who fandom generally used to break its neck to find out any tiny scrap of info about forthcoming episodes; in this blogger own case, he well remembers getting photocopies of a few of the script pages from one of the Trial Of A Timelord episodes pre-broadcast and these became like catnip for every Doctor Who-loving fiend of this blogger who got to hear about him having them. Keith Telly Topping is not sure exactly when the whole 'no spoilers' thing started (2005, when Doctor Who returned to production, he's guessing) but it is a curious thing to those of us who aren't really bothered by knowing things in advance. Added to which, some of the aspects which are complained about by spoilerphobes, frankly, baffle this blogger - stuff from trailers, casting information, Keith Telly Topping has even seen complaints about the announcement of episode titles (if they include the word 'Daleks', for instance). As far as this blogger is concerned, if the BBC themselves have put something out then it's not a spoiler, it's 'advance publicity.' Perhaps, it's worth reflecting that a bit of common sense is in order from everyone when it comes to this particular subject. If you know something about a forthcoming Doctor Who episode that others may not, then possibly, you may want to think about being a bit euphemistic in what you're saying publicly about the subject or, clearly signposting that spoilers are ahoy and. if you don't wish to know the score, look away now. But, if you don't know, then it might be an idea to avoid Facebook (and, indeed, most other social media platforms) until you've seen the episode in question. That way, everybody wins.
Of course, this brings up the knotty question of what, exactly, constitutes 'a spoiler' and, at what point it ceases to be one. Extreme example, Agatha Christie published the novel Murder On The Orient Express in January 1934. The story had a very singular climax when revealing who, actually, done the said murdering on the titular train. Forty years after the novel was released, Sidney Lumet's star-studded, Oscar-winning movie adaptation came out. In subsequent years there have been at least two major TV adaptations - one in 2001, starring Alfred Molina, another in 2010 with David Suchet - plus, of course, Kenneth Brannagh's hugely successful 2017 movie remake. So, at what point, exactly, does it become not a spoiler to say, as this blogger is now going to, 'they all did it'?! As I say, that's an extreme example, but this blogger had heard seemingly sensible people getting all shirty and discombobulated when discovering 'spoilers' from source texts which are decades, sometimes even centuries old. So, if you want to whinge about something spoiler-related, dear blog reader, here's a selection for you: Hamlet and Macbeth both get killed; Ebenezer Scrooge finds redemption on Christmas Day; The Murder Of Roger Ackroyd features an unreliable narrator; in The Mousetrap the policeman did it; Norman Bates' murdered Marion Crane whilst dressed as his dead mother; The Watcher was The Doctor all the time; Tracey Bond gets killed on her wedding day; Malcolm Crowe was dead all along; the passengers of Oceanic Airlines Flight 815 are all dead and on their way to Heaven; Who shot Mister Burns? The baby done it. There, if you want to get annoyed at someone for revealing spoilers, dear blog reader, at least go for someone who does it deliberately and with malice aforethought.
According to the BBC's entertainment correspondent, yer actual Lizo Mzimba in that previously mentioned BBC News article, the actor or actress who will portray the next Doctor 'should' be revealed 'in a matter of weeks.' Which will, at least, put an end to the usual tiresome media speculation about the identity of the actor or actress who'll get the gig. This statement was released in reference to Jodie Whittaker's final adventure as The Doctor in the BBC's centenary special: 'Her replacement as The Doctor is expected to be revealed in the coming weeks,' it said. The upcoming announcement could indicate that principal photography of next year's Doctor Who sixtieth anniversary special and the series beyond, with returning showrunner Russell Davies, will commence soon(ish) at Wolf Studios in Wales. The new Doctor Who is reported to be 'due' to go into pre-production, this year. The title of the feature-length Doctor Who centenary special, in which Jodie's Doctor will regenerate, has not yet been revealed but it has been described as 'an epic, emotional and a visual effects spectacular celebration of the past, present and future of Doctor Who.'
The Radio Times's latest 'how can we write close to a thousand words which say absolutely nothing?' article, Molly Moss's Doctor Who's Thasmin Twist Just Fixed The Show's Biggest Problem appeared on Monday. As usual - and as with the regular outputs of Molly's RT colleagues, Huw Fullerton and Patrick Mulkern, whinged about often in the past by this blogger - it tries hard but, ultimately, it's not really cutting it. That's Radio Times for you, dear blog reader. As we've noted previously, it used to be written and edited by adults. These days, not so much.
It was genuinely fascinating to discover whilst watching the end credits of Legend Of The Sea Devils that, seemingly, someone in the BBC credits-writing department doesn't realise there are two 'l's in 'Malcolm'. Which is useful information.
Predictably, whilst this blogger - and many of his fine fiends - very much enjoyed the episode and thought it was great, some among The Usual Suspects have been out in force on an Interweb near you whinging loudly about, you know, stuff. Mostly Chibnall. And Jodie. And ... everything else they don't like. They're quite a sight to be honest, dear blog reader. And, of course, bigly wrong in their epic wrongness. Take it from this blogger, he's a very well-known author, journalist and broadcaster and he knows what he's talking about. It is alleged.
Doctor Who writer Pete McTighe has revealed that he was set to write an episode for series thirteen of the popular, long-running family SF drama before it was scrapped due to the Covid-19 pandemic - but he's saving the idea he had 'for the future.' McTighe - whose much-trailed new Sky drama The Rising debuts this week - had previously written episodes for both series eleven and twelve (the excellent Kerblam! and the reasonably-adequate Praxeus respectively). 'I was going to come and do series thirteen,' he toldNational World. 'I was doing The Pact at the same time - when COVID happened, we had to move our shooting dates for The Pact, which meant that I was kind of taken out for the production period of Doctor Who. We shot The Pact series one at the same time Doctor Who was shooting,' he added. 'We were shooting, actually, in quarries next door to each other at one stage. They were in a quarry shooting the Sontaran episode [War Of The Sontarans] and we were literally over the road in the woods shooting The Pact.' Asked whether he could reveal anything about what his episode may have included, he admitted that it didn't focus on any classic monsters but responded: 'I'll hold on to it, because Doctor Who ideas are never dead. Hopefully one day I'll get to use it.'
The Lord Thy God Steven Moffat (OBE) has confirmed that his new HBO series, an adaptation of The Time Traveler's Wife [sic] will debut in the US on 15 May and, in Britain, one day later.
A former EastEnders actress who shouted 'black lives don't matter' - which, you know, they do, just in case there's any doubt about the matter - outside a fish and chip restaurant has been sentenced to a community order. Katie Jarvis, who played Hayley Slater on the BBC drama from 2018 to 2019, was arrested in Southend-on-Sea, Essex in July 2020. Basildon Crown Court heard the thirty-year-old 'got into a dispute' with a group of women and, later, spat towards a bouncer. Jarvis, of Rainham, admitted racially aggravated harassment and common assault on Tuesday. Patrick Harte, mitigating, claimed that Jarvis was 'sorry' and she 'maintains she didn't physically assault anyone that day.' He said she was 'sorry to the people who heard her use the awful language on that day and to Mister Groom the doorman, who was simply doing his job.' Harte said Jarvis 'drinks very rarely' and on the day in question 'had been in London - she had a number of successful interviews for films. She was celebrating,' he added.
Steve Coogan has said that a TV drama in which he plays Filthy Albino Kiddie-Fiddler Jimmy Savile is 'walking a tightrope' but will 'vindicate itself' when it reaches screens. Though, that isn't likely to stop the Daily Scum Mail from having a right whinge about it, especially as it's a BBC production. Coogan will be seen later this year as the late serial abuser in The Reckoning. 'People have a sort of revulsion about the idea of even making it,' the actor told Radio 5Live. 'But in actual fact, it's a mistake to think that the best way to deal with something is to not talk about it.' In The Reckoning, Coogan will transform into the disgraced and disgraceful Savile, who preyed on hundreds of people - mostly vulnerable young females - whilst he was one of the UK's most high-profile TV and radio personalities. And, a close personal fiend of several leading politicians. The BBC has said the mini-series will examine how Savile 'used his celebrity and powerful connections to conceal his wrongdoings and to hide in plain sight.' It will also 'examine the impact his appalling crimes had on his victims,' producers have claimed. Whether it will examine Savile's sickeningly disgusting friendship with former Prime Minister That Awful Thatcher Woman, we don't yet know.
People using self-driving cars will be allowed to watch television on built-in screens under proposed updates to the Highway Code. The changes will say drivers 'must be ready to take back control' of vehicles when prompted, the government said. The first use of self-driving technology is likely to be when travelling at slow speeds on motorways, such as in congested traffic. However, using mobile phones while driving will remain illegal even though watching telly isn't. No self-driving cars are currently allowed on UK roads, but the first vehicles capable of driving themselves could be ready for use later this year, the Department for Transport said. The planned changes to the code are expected to come in over the summer. The updates, proposed following public consultation, were described as 'an interim measure' to support the early adoption of the technology and a full regulatory framework is planned to be implemented by 2025. They will also lay out that users of self-driving cars will not be responsible for crashes. Instead insurance companies, not individuals, will be liable for claims 'in most circumstances,' the DfT said.
This blogger would like to wish all of From The North's dear blog readers a jolly happy Saint George's Day. And, an extremely happy Saint Ringo's Day too.
Twenty six years ago this very week, dear blog reader, yer actual Keith Telly Topping was stood about twenty rows from the front on the pitch at Maine Road when Oasis dropped an effin' atom bomb on the gaff. It remains, still to this day, one of the five or six best gigs that this blogger ever went to. 'Where were you while we were getting high?'
That same day, as it happens - Wednesday, 27 April - will also be the ninth anniversary of the death of this blogger's mother. The following day will be the thirty first anniversary of the death of this blogger's father. Obviously, as a consequence, around this time each year, this blogger tends to be somewhat consumed with memories of them both and the significant way in which they helped to shape the course of his life. So, this latest From The North bloggerisationisms update is for Tommy and Lily Topping. You did all right raising the child proper. And, you taught him to think for his very self. Something which this blog is, perhaps, the ultimate reflection thereof. Here endeth the mawkishness.
And now, dear blog reader, we turn to yer actual Keith Telly Topping's health (or lack of it) situation. To sum up for those who haven't been following the saga which seems to have been going on longer than Coronation Street: This blogger spent several weeks feeling proper poorly for reasons which no medical professional whom he consulted seemed able to discover; then, he got much worse and spent a week in hospital; he got discharged; he had some injections; he had even more injections; he recovered - somewhat - his missing-in-action appetite; he got an - at least partial - diagnosis of his issues; he had a meeting with his hospital consultant and he told anyone that was interested - and, indeed, anyone that wasn't - that he was still suffering from fatigue (among numerous other pre-existent symptoms). This week, this blogger had his latest endoscopy which occurred at the RVI on Tuesday. This one, at least, was a 'down the throat' gastroscopy as opposed to the 'up-the-Gary Glitter' malarkey which this blogger has, twice, previously had to grit his teeth and bear. This, at least, was a quicker and - marginally - less unpleasant procedure than having a not-as-small-as-you'd-think piece of plastic rammed, hard, up ones sphincter (though this blogger still wouldn't describe his most recent experience as comfortable or anything even remotely like it). This blogger was offered sedation by the hospital but that would've meant spending a night in the gaff and then finding someone to fetch Keith Telly Topping home again the following day. So, instead, he went for the alternative option, local throat anaesthetic spray. During the procedure, first they attached something to keep ones mouth open which, uncannily, resembled one of those ball-gags so popular in the BDSM community (or, ahem, so this blogger has heard). This blogger did note afterwards that there are places where you have to pay good money for that sort of thing.
The staff - Doctor Ana, Doctor Martin and, especially, Sister Allegra - were splendid and helped Keith Telly Topping through the more difficult bits of the procedure (the overwhelming urge to cough and splutter, mainly). Several gastric duodenal biopsies were taken during the procedure, the results of which this blogger will get sometime in the future but, the good news was that there were no obvious cancerous lesions or the like discovered. They did detect a 'small' hiatus hernia at the top of this blogger's stomach, for which they will be recommending to Keith Telly Topping's GP some tablets (a hiatus hernia is not curable, per se, but it is treatable - as this blogger is well aware since his late father had one). After it was all over, Keith Telly Topping then had to wait for an hour before he could a) speak properly and b) eat or drink whilst the anaesthetic wore off. So, not the best of times this blogger has ever had dear blog reader but, at the same time, hardly the worst. Somewhere in-between.
The previous day, this blogger was forced to make a, necessary, Bank Holiday Monday trip to Morrisons and ALDI for some vital supplies. It was utterly exhausting (as usual) and left this blogger feeling well-knackered, totally pure-dead shagged-out and in serious need of an afternoon lie-down. Mind you, it did have one, small - and really deserved - compensation ...
Have you ever have one of those days, dear blog reader? You know, those days. Days where life appears to be screaming at you, even by 8.30am, 'you know you shouldn't have got out of bed, today, right'?
On Wednesday morning, yer actual Keith Telly Topping managed to spill virtually an entire box of Harvest Moon Honey Hoops®™ ('breakfast with added buzzzzzzz') all over The Stately Telly Topping Manor Plague House kitchen floor. Though, this blogger did manage a salvage enough for us brecky at The Stately Telly Topping Manor Plague House so it wasn't a complete disaster, just a partial one. Nevertheless, this blogger felt like, if you will, a cereal killer. Oh, suit yourselves. Once he'd finished breakfast, the vacuum cleaner was giving this blogger a - wholly anthropomorphised - look which suggested 'you're taking the piss if you think I'm cleaning all that up ...'
For us dinner at The Stately Telly Topping Manor Plague House later that self-same day, was home-made chorizo and salt beef curry with chestnut mushrooms, spring onions, basmati rice, black pepper and fresh garlic bread. And a nice bottle of raspberry pop to wash it all down. Then, because cooking is exhausting, this blogger needed forty winks on the sofa.
The US space agency NASA should prioritise a mission to Uranus, an influential panel of scientists says. And those guys know what they're talking about because they're, you know, 'influential.' The ice giant is the seventh planet in our Solar System - you knew that, right? - orbiting the Sun nineteen times more distantly than the Earth. It has only been visited once previously, in a brief flyby by the Voyager 2 probe in 1986. Researchers think an in-depth study of Uranus can help them better understand the many similarly sized objects now being discovered around other stars. The recommendation is made in a document published by the US National Academies of Sciences, Engineering and Medicine. Known as a 'decadal survey', it is the summation of what the American research community thinks are the big planetary science questions at this time and the space missions required to answer them. NASA has, broadly, followed the recommendations of previous National Academies reports. The last planetary decadal survey, published in 2011, had as its two top priorities a rock-collection mission to Mars, which became The Perseverance Rover, now on the surface of the Red Planet and a mission to Jupiter and its moon Europa, which is currently being prepared for launch in 2024, The Europa Clipper. Specialists who study the outer planets in our Solar System have been campaigning for a return visit to either Uranus or Neptune ever since their Voyager encounters. And the science case has only strengthened over the intervening years, proponents argue. The size-range of planets now being discovered around other stars seem to dominate in a range that's about three and four times the width of the Earth. Similar, in fact, to Uranus and Neptune. 'And that actually poses a problem for planet formation theories,' explained Professor Leigh Fletcher, who contributed to the report. 'We think we understand how something gets as big as Jupiter and we think we understand how something gets to be the size of Earth and Venus. But in the middle, in that kind of sweet spot between those end-members - we don't fully understand how a world can start to grow and grow and not just carry on to become Jupiter-mass in size. A mission to Uranus could help us answer that,' the Leicester University scientist told the BBC News website. There are favourable launch opportunities in 2031 and 2032 which would allow a spacecraft to use a gravity slingshot around Jupiter to shorten the cruise time to Uranus to a mere thirteen years. The spacecraft would go into orbit around the planet, which would preclude any observations at the more-distant Neptune. Uranus is considered an oddity compared with the other planets in the Solar System in that its axis of rotation is almost parallel with the plane of its orbit around The Sun. It's as if it has been knocked onto its side, which may well be the explanation - scientists speculate that it suffered a massive impact with another body early in its history. Uranus also has rings and plenty of moons (twenty seven at the last count). Indeed, the moons - Miranda, Ariel, Umbriel, Titania, Oberon, Cordelia et al - are quite a draw because a good many of them are likely to be ocean worlds. 'This is the idea that you've got an icy crust and then you've got some kind of liquid briny ocean down at depth that may or may not be in contact with whatever silicate rocky material is down at the bottom,' said Professor Fletcher. 'Well, all of the big five classical satellites of Uranus are thought of as being ocean world candidates. These moons could have cryo-volcanic (ice volcano) activity taking place on them.' European-based planetary researchers, like Professor Fletcher, will be hoping the European Space Agency can contribute to such a mission. NASA and ESA are frequent partners, such as on the Cassini-Huygens mission to Saturn (2004 to 2017), but their priorities and funding cycles do not always coincide. Also keen on a return mission to Uranus will, seemingly, be at least one caption-writer working for Good Day Los Angeles so that he and/or she can get creatively saucy in their work all over again.
'Even if the aliens are short, dour and sexually obsessed,' the late cosmologist Carl Sagan once mused, 'if they're here, I want to know about them.' Driven by the same mindset, a NASA-led team of international scientists has developed a new message which it proposes to beam across the galaxy in the hope of making first contact with intelligent extraterrestrials. The interstellar message, known as The Beacon In The Galaxy, opens with simple principles for communication, some basic concepts in maths and physics, the constituents of DNA and closes with information about humans, the Earth and a return address should any distant recipients be minded to reply. No Chuck Berry this time, however which will, presumably, be a huge disappointment to the aliens themselves. The group of researchers, headed by Doctor Jonathan Jiang at NASA's Jet Propulsion Laboratory, says that with technical upgrades the binary message could be broadcast into the heart of The Milky Way by the Seti Institute's Allen Telescope Array in California and the five hundred-metre Aperture Spherical Radio Telescope in China. In a preliminary paper, which has not yet been peer reviewed, the scientists recommend sending the message to a dense ring of stars near the centre of The Milky Way - a region deemed 'most promising for life' to have emerged. 'Humanity has, we contend, a compelling story to share and the desire to know of others - and now has the means to do so,' the scientists write. The message, if it ever leaves Earth, would not be the first, of course. The Beacon In The Galaxy is loosely based on the Arecibo message sent in 1974 from an observatory of the same name in Puerto Rico. That targeted a cluster of stars about twenty five thousand light years away, so it will not arrive at its intended destination any time soon. Since then, a host of messages have been beamed into the heavens including an advert for Doritos and an invitation, written in Klingon, to a Klingon Opera in The Hague. Such attempts at interstellar communication are not straightforward. The odds of an intelligent civilisation intercepting a message may be extremely low and even if contact were made, establishing a fruitful conversation could prove frustrating when a response can take tens of thousands of years to arrive back here. Aliens may not even understand the signal: as a test run for the Arecibo message, Frank Drake, its designer, posted the message to some scientific colleagues, including a number of Nobel laureates. None of them understood it. There are other concerns, too. More than a decade ago, Professor Stephen Hawking warned that humans should refrain from sending messages into space in case they attracted the wrong sort of attention. 'If aliens visit us, the outcome would be much as when Columbus landed in America, which didn't turn out well for the Native Americans,' he told a Discovery channel documentary. And, he was a very smart man. But Doctor Jiang and his colleagues argue that an alien species capable of communication across the cosmos may well have learned the value of peace and collaboration and humanity could have much to learn from them. 'We believe the advancements of science that can be achieved in pursuit of this task, if communication were to be established, would vastly outweigh the concerns,' they write. They blogger's only comment to Doctor Jiang is, if The Daleks turn up, don't say you weren't warned!
The DVD release of The Be-Atles' (a popular beat combo of the 1960s, you might've heard of them) Get Back documentary - directed by Peter Jackson - has been delayed. Retailers received the following notification earlier this week: 'We have just been informed by Disney that the ... title has been delayed indefinitely, due to authoring challenges.' What these 'authoring challenges' are and whether they came from Sir Paul, Sir Ringo, Yoko or Olivia is not, at this time, known. But, we can probably guess. 
Who had the finest trousers in the history of rock and/or roll, dear blog reader? Well, it had to be The Velvet Underground, didn't it? This blogger reckons that the late, great Sterling Morrison's ginger Dan Dares just about beat the late, great Lou Reed's deep blue crushed-velvet strides in the inherent coolness stakes. Bonus points, too, for Moe Tucker's tight-fitting beige units. Doug Yule? Well, the belt's quite nice. As are, clearly, his shiny, shiny, shiny boots of leather ...
Miguel Almirón scored his first club goal since February 2021 as this blogger's beloved (and, now, thankfully sold) Newcastle United beat Crystal Palace to record a sixth consecutive win at St James' Park and move to forty points in the Premier League. Almirón finished magnificently from Bruno Guimarães' volleyed pass to lift Eddie Howe's Black & White Army to eleventh in the table and all but guarantee The Magpies' place in the top flight for next season. Guimarães and Allan Saint-Maximin tested Vicente Guaita in a one-sided first-half, while the impressive Joelinton sent a header looping over the crossbar not long after the interval. Palace emerged for the second-half with greater urgency and very nearly equalised when Wilfried Zaha dragged Odsonne Edouard's pass narrowly wide of Martin Dubravka's right-hand post. Zaha also sent a curling effort inches over the crossbar in the final minute of stoppage time. Patrick Vieira's side dropped to fourteenth after suffering back-to-back league defeats for the first time since the turn of the year. The last time Newcastle registered six straight top-flight victories at home was during the 2003-04 campaign - the late Sir Bobby Robson's final season in charge of the club. 'It's a great night for the football club,' Howe told Sky Sports afterwards. 'You can forget how hard it's been to get us into this position now. We have to look back with great satisfaction. You can very quickly forget where we were and where we've come from this season. It's been great to see the team move forward and develop.' Considering the position Newcastle were in when Howe took over from Mister Brucie (nasty to see him, to see him, nasty) in November - nineteenth in the table and five points from safety - reaching forty points with five games to spare must go down as a magnificent achievement. Many whingers will point to The Magpies' January outlay of more than ninety million knicker as the chief reason behind their march up the table, but that is a crass oversimplification. Howe has had to make do without England full-back Kieran Trippier - whom the Newcastle boss described as 'inspirational' following an impressive start to life on Tyneside - and last season's top scorer Callum Wilson through injury, while the talismanic Saint-Maximin has been frustratingly inconsistent since returning to fitness in March. Others have stepped into the breach, of course - chief among them former Lyon midfielder Guimarães, who was heavily involved in the game's only goal. The Brazilian's looping ball over the Palace defence was collected in his stride by Almirón, who darted into the penalty area from the right before directing a sublime finish into the top corner - his first Newcastle goal since scoring twice in a 3three-two win over Southampton more than fourteen months ago. It was a richly deserved opener for the home side, who dominated midfield in the first-half in particular and restricted Palace to just one tame Edouard effort before the interval. Palace improved after half-time and pinned the home side back in the closing stages, but other than Zaha's two efforts off target they rarely looked like leaving St James' Park with a share of the spoils.
Now extremely former President Mister Rump's former personal lawyer, ex-mayor of New York and certified twenty four carat loon Rudy Giuliani has been unmasked as a contestant on the American version of the TV show The Masked Singer. That performance led one of the show's judges, comedian Ken Jeong, to walk off, saying: 'I'm done.' Giuliani, one of Rump's key allies when - falsely - claiming erection fraud in 2020, was identified as the personality inside the Jack in the Box costume. After being unmasked, he then sang the George Thorogood song 'Bad To The Bone'. Seemingly, no one considered having him sing The Clash's 'Rudie Can't Fail'. An opportunity missed, dare one suggest. He is a controversial figure for his role in promoting the - baseless - claim that Rump really won the 2020 US presidential erection. Which, just in case you're wondering, he didn't. Not even close. Last June, Giuliani had his law licence extremely suspended in New York for making 'demonstrably false and misleading' claims about the erection. He also spoke at the rally before the storming of the Capitol in Washington in January 2021, encouraging protesters to 'have trial by combat.' US entertainment magazine Variety said his casting was the FOX show's 'worst decision yet.' Columnist Daniel D'Addario wrote: 'Treating Giuliani as a plaything for our culture, albeit one who has made some controversial choices, is not a matter of policy disagreement, or of being a bit too grave about the lighter side of the news. Fox gave time and attention to a powerful figure who would have, if given his way, put the last nail in the coffin of democracy in this country.' Asked why he agreed to appear, Giuliani told host Nick Cannon: 'I guess the main reason is I just had a granddaughter, Grace and I want her to know that you should try everything, even things that are completely unlike you and unlikely. I couldn't think of anything more unlike me and unlikely than this. I enjoy the show and I have for years and it just seemed like it would be fun, and I don't get to have a lot of fun.' He's not the first political figure to appear on the programme. Former failed vice-presidential candidate - and another certified twenty four carat loon - Sarah Palin appeared as Bear in 2020.
Meanwhile, now extremely former President Mister Rump has claimed he did not'storm out' of an interview with Oily Twat Piers Morgan, instead claiming that the vile and odious presenter 'misleadingly' edited a video of their meeting to 'create a buzz' around Morgan's ghastly new show. A short clip released on Wednesday to promote talkTV, the new billionaire tyrant Rupert Murdoch-owned TV station, gave the impression that the now extremely former US president walked out of an interview with Morgan in anger at the tough line of questioning. The Murdoch-owned Sun and New York Post tabloids ran front-page news stories on the supposed 'bust-up' as part of a carefully planned global marketing strategy for Morgan's new show, which launches on Monday.
A major Conservative Party donor was listed as a director of a company secretly owned by a Russian oligarch close to Vladimir Putin (and his really small penis). The BBC has seen a document - dated 2006 - and signed Lubov Golubeva, the maiden name of Lubov Chernukhin, a Tory donor. Chernukhin says that she 'does not recall consenting in writing' to being a director of Suleiman Kerimov's firm. Kerimov, now sanctioned, previously denied any connection with Mrs Chernukhin. Papers seen by the BBC appear to show that Chernukhin, then Lubov Golubeva, was appointed as a director of offshore company Radlett Estates Limited, in 2005 - following its acquisition of a substantial property in Radlett Place, North London. Another firm - Swiru Holding AG - was, the BBC allege, the sole shareholder of Radlett Estates. The directors of Radlett Estates were Swiss businessman Alexander Studhalter and Suleiman Kerimov's nephew, Nariman Gadzhiev. Studhalter was accused in a French court of being a so-called 'straw man', or proxy, for Kerimov - involved in hiding the oligarch's wealth. Radlett Estates had planned to demolish the building and construct a new home on the site. According to architects' plans, there was to be a cinema, a health spa and gym, indoor swimming pool, a map room, six bedrooms and a 'six-car motorised garage and large staff quarters.' Kerimov and his wife were not listed as directors of Radlett Estates and their names were not on the planning documents. But one designer's website identified the clients as 'Mister and Mrs K.' In 2007, Golubeva married Vladimir Chernukhin - a multimillionaire businessman who had served under Vlad The Small as a junior minister, but later fled Russia. The same year, she started giving money to the Conservative Party - initially in five thousand knicker donations under her maiden name. As time went on, the donations - in her married name - became much, much bigger. She would end up becoming one of the Tory party's most influential donors - having given more than two million quid. The discovery of the evidence suggesting a business connection between Mrs Chernukhin and Kerimov follows questions in Parliament about her and her links to Russia. This was despite Mrs Chernukhin's condemnation of 'Russian military aggression in Ukraine' where she called for 'the strongest possible sanctions against Putin's regime and its enablers.' Earlier this month, the BBC - as part of The Pandora Papers Russia Project with the International Consortium of Investigative Journalists and global partners - revealed how Suleiman Kerimov has been hiding his wealth. Vladimir Chernukhin was in the Russian government between 2000 and 2002. He was then appointed chairman of a state bank by Putin, but left Russia in 2004. However, in a 2018 court case, his wife claimed that Chernukhin had maintained 'excellent' relationships with 'prominent members of the Russian establishment.' Chernukhin said that he arrived in the UK with a fortune of two hundred and thirty million smackers and started building 'a real estate empire.' Both he and his wife are now UK citizens - which means she is entitled to donate to a political party. In February, she was reported to be a member of a small 'advisory board' of major donors with access to senior party members, including the Prime Minister.
CNN's new owner says it will close the US-based news channel's streaming service just a month after it launched. Warner Bros Discovery says it will issue refunds to subscribers after the service is shut down on 30 April. The head of CNN+ has extremely resigned and hundreds more workers could be at risk of losing their jobs. This week, fifty billion bucks was wiped off the stock market value of streaming giant Netflix after it revealed a sharp fall in subscribers. CNN+ was launched on 29 March in an attempt to bring in revenues from news streaming subscriptions. The company spent as much as three hundred million dollars on developing the service but it got off to a slow start, attracting just ten thousand viewers per day, according to reports. Earlier this month, WBD became CNN's parent company with the completion of the merger of media company Discovery and telecom giant AT&T. Chris Licht, the incoming chief executive of CNN, said the business 'will be strongest as part of WBD's streaming strategy which envisions news as an important part of a compelling broader offering along with sports, entertainment, and nonfiction content. We have therefore made the decision to cease operations of CNN+,' Licht said in a statement. Discovery's streaming boss JB Perrette said the firm was searching for a 'more sustainable business model to drive our future investments in great journalism and storytelling.' As part of the shake-up, Andrew Morse, who helped to drive CNN's streaming strategy, will leave the company. Forthwith if not sooner. Hundreds of CNN+ employees have also been given ninety days to secure a job in other parts of the company, CNN reported. Those who fail to do so will receive a severance package of at least six months pay, it said. It comes after streaming giant Netflix reported a plunge in subscribers in the first three months of the year. On Tuesday, Netflix said that the number of households using its streaming service fell by two hundred thousand as it faced 'stiff competition' from rivals. The platform also warned shareholders another two million subscribers were likely to leave in the three months to July. After the announcement, the company's New York-listed shares slumped by more than a third, wiping fifty billion notes off its stock market valuation.
Sir David Attenborough has been named 'Champion Of The Earth' by the UN's Environment Programme. The previous holder of the title - Doctor John Smith of Totters Lane, Shoreditch - was said to be 'shocked and stunned' by this malarkey and demanded a recount.
The Large Hardon Colluder (or, 'The Black Hole Machine' according to Mad Frankie Boyle) has been switched on again after a period of inactivity for repairs. Caused by someone reversing the polarity of the neutron flow. Or something. So, dear blog reader, if you - or anyone you know - disappears into The Gaping Jaws of Infinity any time soon, you know the probable source.
Anglo-Saxon kings were 'mostly vegetarian' before the Vikings settled, according to new studies. How can anyone be 'mostly vegetarian'? You either are, or you aren't, there's very little middle ground. Cambridge University researchers analysed more than two thousand skeletons and found elites ate no more meat than other social groups. One study also suggested peasants occasionally hosted lavish meat feasts for their rulers. Researchers said the findings overturned major assumptions about early medieval English history. Cambridge University bioarchaeologist Sam Leggett drew her conclusions after analysing chemical signatures of diets preserved in the bones of two thousand and twenty three people buried in England from the fifth to eleventh Centuries. She then cross-referenced these with evidence for social status such as grave goods, body position and grave orientation and found no correlation between social status and high protein diets. The findings surprised Cambridge University historian Tom Lambert, because so many medieval texts and historical studies suggested that Anglo-Saxon elites did eat large quantities of meat. The pair worked together to decipher royal food lists and discovered similar patterns of servings - like a modest amount of bread, a huge amount of meat, a decent but not excessive quantity of ale and no mention of vegetables, although some probably were served. Lambert said: 'The scale and proportions of these food lists strongly suggests that they were provisions for occasional grand feasts, and not general food supplies sustaining royal households on a daily basis.'
A man has been fined after being filmed kicking a hedgehog several times. Footage of David Herring, of Sudbury, in Suffolk, kicking the poor animal several times in November last year, was sent to the RSPCA. They said the hedgehog was kicked with 'considerable force,' causing 'pain and fear,' with Herring showing a 'clear disregard for a wild animal.' At Colchester Magistrates' Court he admitted causing unnecessary suffering and was fined two hundred and seventy seven notes. Herring was also ordered to pay three hundred quid costs and a thirty four knicker victim surcharge. Although how much of that will actually find its was to the victim in this particular case is, legitimately, questionable. Images caught on camera showed him moving the hedgehog from a doorway and kicking it several times out of a driveway of a property in Sudbury. In mitigation, the court heard Herring was of previous good character, that he had had a heart attack within the last year and had been 'under stress.' His legal team also claimed, somewhat implausibly, that Herring had 'initially believed' the hedgehog was a rat.
Rebekah Vardy attempted to sell a story about the arrest of the footballer Danny Drinkwater to the Sun newspaper – only to be turned down because the tabloid had already been leaked the story by an individual at the police station, the high court has heard. The claim emerged as part of Vardy's ongoing 'Wagatha Christie' libel battle against fellow footballer's wife Coleen Rooney, who publicly accused Vardy of leaking her private information to the tabloid. Drinkwater, a former teammate of Vardy's husband, Jamie, at Leicester City, was arrested for drink-driving after crashing his Range Rover in early 2019. Before the incident became public, Mrs Vardy was already sending WhatsApp messages to her agent, Caroline Watt, to tell her what had happened and suggest they sell the story. Vardy told her agent: 'Story. Danny Drinkwater arrested [...] Crashed his car drunk with two girls in it, both in hospital one with broken ribs.' After clarifying a few details about the car and the location, Vardy added: 'I want paying for this.' Within two minutes, Watt said that she had sent the story to Sun journalist Andy Halls, whom she said 'replied immediately' that the tabloid already knew because 'someone leaked it from police station.' Drinkwater was later banned from driving for almost two years. The disclosure is the latest in a series of messages that have been made public as part of the ongoing legal case, which is due to go to a week-long trial at the start of May. Rooney, the wife of former England footballer Wayne Rooney (now manager of recently relegated Derby County), argues that Vardy 'systematically' leaked information to the Sun and had 'extensive contact' with its scum journalists. The libel case will hinge on whether Rooney can prove that it was Vardy who was, personally, responsible for leaking any stories from her private Instagram page to the Sun. In a ruling on Thursday, Mrs Justice Steyn handed a partial victory to Vardy's legal team, ordering the removal of certain elements of Rooney's evidence. Among the claims deleted from Rooney's witness statement was a section which alleged Vardy 'was also actively participating in leaking private information about other individuals to the Sun.' The judge also turned down a request by Rooney's lawyers to search the phones of a number of Sun journalists for potential communications with Vardy and Watt. She branded this 'a fishing expedition' but made an exception for details of messages with Halls, who was involved in some of the disputed stories. The court heard that in 2019 Halls declared that Vardy 'has never provided any story or information to me.''WhatsApp messages disclosed as part of the legal filings suggest Vardy and Watt regularly discussed journalists at the Sun,' according to some Middle Class hippy Communist vegan quiche eater at the Gruniad Morning Star. At one point Vardy says she is 'concerned' that Rooney has blocked her on Instagram after stories appeared in the media. In response, the agent says 'I wouldn't tell anyone but the Sun' and Rooney can't 'fucking prove anything though and if she wants to think that then fuck her.' Watt said she had been in touch with Halls about the incident: 'I messaged him and he said absolutely not and he never would say what his source was.' In November 2018 Watt also told Vardy to 'look out' for Sun z-list celebrity journalist, Amy Brookbanks, at an event and 'make a point of saying hello' because the reporter 'always writes nice stories, does whatever I ask her and gets stories changed that she hasn't even written.' Vardy no longer intends to call Watt as a witness at the trial, claiming that the agent is 'suffering from ill health.' Despite this, Watt has still received substantial attention after it was disclosed in a pre-trial hearing that she 'accidentally' dropped her phone in the North Sea after a request was made to search it. Vardy has also, she claims, 'struggled' to access her own WhatsApp messages after her IT expert 'lost the password' to her back-up files. And, all of this complete and utter bollocks constitutes 'news', apparently. Does anyone else hate The Modern World and every single, sodding, worthless aspect of it? Just this blogger, then?
A woman who got stuck vertically upside down behind a sofa in a Tyneside restaurant has been tellingTyne Tees News how her brunch 'took an unexpected turn.' Lindsay Clark was celebrating her friend Julie Jackson's birthday at the Twelve Twenty Five Restaurant on North Shields Fish Quay when she got wedged upside down. At the time she was attempting to retrieve a jacket which had fallen down the back of a sofa when she 'lost her footing' and ended up head-first behind the furniture for about ten minutes. During that time two employees of the restaurant attempted to free Lindsay by tugging on each leg. But, they failed. Lindsay said 'I knew they were all videoing us, but it was when I was wedged in I was like, "What the hell's going on?" Then when they mentioned the fire brigade, that's when I was panicking, like "God this is going to be so embarrassing."' She continued: 'Thank God for the jumpsuit. I possibly wouldn't have jumped over if I had a dress on. I just didn't think! I tried to grab [the jacket] and it slipped out my hand and obviously I couldn't stop myself, but once I been stuck in it I've obviously tensed myself up and that's obviously how I've wedged myself.' Despite going viral, Lindsay says she is not too embarrassed to go back to Twelve Twenty Five. Only in North Shields, dear blog reader.
The winner of the latest From The North Headline Of The Week award goes to Sussex World for Reader Letter: Chichester Has Enough Pizza Restaurants.
And now, dear blog reader, 'things that make you go ... sorry? Could you run that one by me again?' Number one.
Followed, inevitably, by yet another new semi-regular From The North featurette, 'The Hottest Thing On Two Wheels.' Number one: Teri Garr on a Raleigh Chopper.
Number two: Angie Dickenson on a Piaggio Vespa. Nice rear-end.
Finally, dear blog reader, one has to wonder if these two cheeky young scamps who used bob-a-job week in 1972 as an excuse to look up Caroline Munro's mini-skirt are regular viewers of The Cellar Club in 2022. One sincerely hopes so - especially as Talking Pictures had both And Soon, The Darkness and Cry Of The Banshee on this week.

Men Shut Their Doors Against The Setting Sun

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National heartthrob David Tennant has publicly responded to - completely unsubstantiasted - fan-rumours that he could be returning to Doctor Who. After the shocking - and stunning - announcement that yer man Big Rusty Davies will be steering the TARDIS's course from the next series as showrunner, 'speculation' (for which read 'sad, hyperventilating wishful-thinking by a few squeeing fans') followed that Rusty could be reuniting with one of his acclaimed former Doctors. Speaking to an audience at last weekend's German Comic-Con (and, eagerly reported by the Radio Times. Which, used to be a good magazine when it had some adults in charge), Tennant acknowledged that virtually everything he says in relation to Doctor Who automatically becomes headline news, which makes it difficult for him to field such queries. 'I've been asked a version of this question for the last twenty years and I've learned through bitter experience that there's not any point even answering it, because whatever I say is spun by whoever wants to hear it,' he noted. For this reason, he didn't offer a firm denial concerning the unlikely rumours but, instead, spoke of the idea of his Doctor returning for a second stint on television - which would be an unprecedented move for the franchise. 'There's no point in me denying it, there's no point in me confirming it, there's no point in me fudging it. Whatever I say will become whatever the Internet wants it to be. I mean, it would be quite a weird idea and it's not something that you'd necessarily expect from Doctor Who. That's all I can [do]. I'm not going to try giving any more than that because what's the point?' Jodie Whittaker and showrunner Chris Chibnall will be wrapping up their own period on the BBC's popular, long-running family SF drama soon, with but one episode still to be broadcast later in the year before Big Rusty ushers in a new/old era. You all knew that, right? There is still no word on when the final chapter will be broadcast, nor upon whom will be the next occupant of the TARDIS. And, at that point, the Radio Times - which has done more than virtually any other organ of the media to propel this crass, risible rumour to masses - invited its readers to voice their own opinion on whether David returning to Doctor Who would be a good idea or not, even though it's highly unlikely to happen.
... The results of which were published in another utterly pointless, nothing story - of the sort Radio Times appears to specialise in these days - the following day. There's little to see here, dear blog readers, although it must be said that the headline of the second article, Doctor Who Fans Want New Actor, Not David Tennant, As [The] Fourteenth Doctor is simply crying out for the response: 'What? And you've asked all of them, have you?' Because this blogger - a Doctor Who fan since 1968 - never got that particular memo.
And, speaking of the sort of utter, abject, ludicrous shat that the Radio Times choses to publish, Hannah Watkin's article on the forthcoming regeneration episode, Is Doctor Who's Centenary Special Already In Trouble? probably deserves some sort of award for being a comment-piece based on, seemingly, some casting announcements and a trailer and, apparently, with its mind already thoroughly made up. Nice work if you can get it, no doubt. Once again From The North feels compelled to ask, does anyone out there remember when the Radio Times was a magazine of record, written by, edited by and published by adults? This blogger is aware some of you younglings may not but, trust Keith Telly Topping, it once was exactly that. Many, many years ago, in a galaxy far, far away.
Chris Chibnall has told the Doctor Who Magazine that he was only informed of Big Rusty's decision to return to the Doctor Who franchise a mere thirty six hours before it was made public. 'Piers [Wenger] and Charlotte [Moore] told me,' he explained. 'I had a suspicion, because Russell hadn’t texted me for a while. And he's never been that quiet!' Expect some members of The Special People with an agenda smeared, an inch thick, all over their faces to attempt to turn that, clearly humorous, comment into a 'showrunners at war!'-style rumourette. It's Doctor Who fandom, dear blog reader. It's what we do. Or, what some of us do, anyway.
Meanwhile, soon-to-be-former Executive Producer Matt Strevens has claimed that Chris Chibnall and Jodie Whittaker's Doctor Who legacy is 'assured' and that he has 'no doubt' the showrunner and actress will be remembered 'with love' by fans once they're gone. Not by some 'fans', they won't. Although, it's probably worth remembering at this juncture that both Big Rusty and The Lord Thy God Steven Moffat (OBE) had their very vocal detractors within fandom during their stints on the show and then, ten minutes after they'd left and someone else took over the production, suddenly, many of those who had poo-pah'd their efforts were busy telling everyone that would listen (and, indeed, anyone that wouldn't) how much worse Doctor Who had gotten over late and how much better it used to be. Plus ça change, plus c'est la même chose, dear blog reader. That's yer actual French, that is. And, just to confirm what should be bleeding obvious to all who've been reading this blog for any length of time, this blogger thought Jodie and Chibs were both great. And, on that bombshell ...
The return of ITV's - really rather decent - John Simm vehicle, the Brighton-based Grace featured an episode which was 'tonally confused, but thrilling fun'according to some prick of no importance at the Radio Times (which used to be written by adults). And, for once, this blogger is forced - forced, please note, dear blog reader - to agree with the prick of no importance at the Radio Times because that's, actually, a decent summation of the episode in question (Looking Good Dead). The episode, written by Russell Lewis, was made in 2020 and was broadcast last year in the US. It finally rocked up on British screens last Sunday. When parts of a young woman's body are discovered on The Downs, Roy Grace believes the murder is connected to two prior killings involving sex-drug overdoses. Meanwhile, a local businessman stumbles upon a memory stick containing an access key to a dark-Web snuff site, where he witnesses the woman's murder and the shadowy operators of the website warn him not to go to the police, or his family will suffer the consequences of his Copper's Narking. 'Tonally bonkers' is an accurate description but with an excellent cast, the whole thing worked rather well. Three further episodes, made last year, will be broadcast over the coming weeks.
Earlier this week, this blogger received his preview copy of the opening episode of The Man Who Fell To Earth. And, he rather enjoyed it. Not at all what Keith Telly Topping had been expecting but it was an interesting update/sequel to the much-loved Nic Roeg/David Bowie movie adaptation (this blogger loved Bill Nighy's Extremely Thin White Duke impression). Chiwetel Ejiofor was very good in it, especially his attempts to smile.
This blogger also caught up with the two most recent episodes of From The North favourite Picard. Mercy was more than a touch over-complicated with far too many subplots, the always-excellent Jay Karnes being, you know, excellent (as always) notwithstanding. And, you've just got to stand up and applaud Agnes's totally darza Big Bad Biker Boots! She wasn't wearing those when she turned up at the gala in that dress three episodes ago, was she? The subsequent Hide & Seek, on the other hand, was a lot of fun for the first three-quarters of the episode with tons of action and some great dialogue ('it's a lovely day', 'Wars have been fought on lovely days!') But, the ending was a bit wank, albeit probably necessary to set up next week's series finale.
As part of the celebrations for the one hundredth birthday of this blogger's beloved BBC, the BFI website has an article listing One Hundred BBC TV Gamechangers, featuring one hundred programmes which, in the opinion of the numerous writers, 'changed the face of television.' At various points, it seems a bit arbitrary (where's Till Death Us Do Part, for instance?) but, it's a decent enough effort at demonstrating just how often the Beeb have been ahead of the game. The article, which is certainly worth half-an-hour of your time dear blog reader, can be accessed here.
Award-winning writer Steven Knight is to create a new BBC drama series set in the era of ska and the 2-Tone movement. Two Tone will tell the story of an extended family and four young people drawn into the scene which grew out of Coventry and Birmingham in the late 1970s. Unifying black, white and Asian youths at that time, Knight said the series' soundtrack would be 'sensational.' It will start filming later this year at Knight's new Birmingham studios. The sixth and final series of his hugely successful BBC historical gangster drama Peaky Blinders, also based in the city, concluded earlier this month. You may have noticed - it was in the papers and everything. This new six-part series on BBC1 will be set in the West Midlands at a time of 'real cultural and historical progression,' Karen Wilson, from producers Kudos said. The music scene - which fused traditional Jamaican ska with punk and social comment - produced several of this blogger's favourite Popular Beat Combos, including The Specials, The Selecter, The Beat and Madness. 'This is a project that's literally very close to home and I'm developing characters and themes that are set in the early eighties but, hopefully, are very contemporary,' the Academy Award-nominee and BAFTA-winning writer said. Ben Irving, acting director of BBC Drama said: 'Steven has taken his knowledge of this time and place and used it to weave a brilliantly original and characterful drama, set against the musical backdrop of ska and 2-Tone. We are thrilled to be able to bring this unique piece to viewers on the BBC.' As the man once - nearly - said, Steven Knight knows, don't argue.
Unfunny comedian and really terrible actor-turned-pain-in-the-arse-talk-show-host James Corden has announced that he will be leaving The Late Late Show next year. Which is, of course, absolutely awful news since it means The Odious Oaf will now be available to return to the UK and inflict his wholly unwanted presence all over our TV screens instead of merely rotting the brains of Americans. The Odious Oaf made the announcement during a recording of the CBS network's show in Los Angeles. Corden - best known in the UK for the utterly rotten, wretched and funny-as-a-wart-on-the-knackersGavin & Stacey - has hosted the US-based talk show since 2015 when he took over from Craig Ferguson. Someone who was, actually, funny. Speaking on Thursday's episode of The Late Late Show, The Odious Oaf said it had been 'the hardest decision I've ever had to make.' Well, don't do it then - Britain has its own problems to deal with at the present time without you adding to them.
Samsung has snivellingly apologised for a recent advert which showed a woman getting up at 2am to go for a run through the streets of a city alone. Though, sadly, not for the advert featuring a really drippy and 'orrible acoustic cover version of 'Seven Nation Army' by one Zella Day. The advert has been criticised by some women's running groups and safety campaigners for being 'unrealistic.' Samsung told Radio 1's Newsbeat that it was never its intention to 'be insensitive to ongoing conversations around women's safety. We apologise for how this may have been received,' it added. 'The 'Night Owls' campaign was designed with a positive message in mind: to celebrate individuality and freedom to exercise at all hours.' Women's safety group Reclaim These Streets has described it as 'tone deaf' in light of the death of Ashling Murphy who was killed on a run in January.
From The North favourite, yer actual Benedict Cumberbatch has revealed that he has been matched with a Ukrainian family who are on their way to live with him and his missus. In their spacious London dwelling. Benny made headlines in March when he said on the red carpet at the BAFTAs that he would be 'happy' to offer to share his home with refugees fleeing the warzone in Ukraine. So long as they don't nick stuff and leave their grubby fingerprints on any of his awards. Probably. He has now confirmed - to Sky News if not anyone slightly more reliable - that he has been matched, adding: 'They've made it out of Ukraine, I'm monitoring their progress every day. Sadly, they are undergoing some medical treatment - to say anything more about that would be invasion of their privacy and too much about when they're coming and how that's being managed would invade mine - but I want to give them some stability after the turmoil that they've experienced and that's within my home.' Benny added: 'I've been trying to help other Ukrainian families - nationals that are UK citizens - to house their extended families en masse, which you know they want to do, but it's very costly. So, I've been trying to help out with that financially in a couple of instances.' What a guy, eh?
Actor, director and From The North favourite Olivia Wilde was reportedly seemingly unruffled after being handed child custody documents while appearing on-stage at an event in Las Vegas. She was delivering a presentation on Tuesday when a brown envelope was handed to her. Opening it, she discovered it contained custody papers from her former partner, Jason Sudeikis. Who had 'no prior knowledge' of the circumstances of the letter's delivery, an alleged - though anonymous and, therefore, possibly fictitious - sources allegedly close to him allegedly claimed. Wilde is best known for directing the US high school teen movie Booksmart and for her role as Remy Hadley in House. She met Sudeikis - star of the comedy series Ted Lasso - in 2011. They were engaged and had two children together before separating in 2020. Wilde was interrupted while introducing footage of her upcoming thriller Don't Worry Darling at a CinemaCon conference. Wilde asked, 'This is for me?' as she was handed an envelope marked 'private and confidential' by an unknown woman. She opened the letter during her presentation and scanned its contents, before resuming her speech. The letter was not mentioned again and led to speculation that Wilde had been handed a new film script. But on Wednesday, it emerged that the letter had, instead, contained custody papers. 'Papers were drawn up to establish jurisdiction relating to the children of Ms Wilde and Mister Sudeikis,' an alleged 'source' allegedly close to Sudeikis allegedly told Variety. Sudeikis 'had no prior knowledge of the time or place that the envelope would have been delivered as this would solely be up to the process service company involved and he would never condone her being served in such an inappropriate manner,' the alleged 'source' allegedly added. In response to the incident, the organiser of the event, CinemaCon, said in a statement that it would henceforth 're-evaluate' its security protocols after questions arose concerning how the Hell the letter came to be delivered to Wilde on-stage in the first place. 'We will act accordingly because it's the right thing to do. We want to do the safe, proper thing,' it added.
An actress and her husband repeatedly had The Sex with a thirteen-year-old girl after grooming her, a court has heard. Zara Phythian - who appeared in Doctor Strange with Benedict Cumberbatch - is accused of numerous sexual offences along with her husband, Victor Marke. The girl, who is now an adult, told police that the couple filmed most of the abuse in an attempt to recreate pornographic scenes. Marke and Phythian deny all of the offences. A police interview with the woman was played to jurors at Nottingham Crown Court where she described details of the alleged sexual offences between 2005 and 2008, when the girl was aged between thirteen and fifteen and before the couple were married. The couple were both martial arts instructors in Nottinghamshire at the time of the alleged crimes and the woman told police that she had 'looked up' to Phythian because of her martial arts success. She said the first offences happened after the couple gave her alcohol to drink and Phythian 'dared' her to give Marke The Oral Sex. She said Marke then had The Sex with both of them. 'I knew it was wrong but I just didn't know how to get out of the situation or say anything,' she told police. 'I remember trying to copy Zara's reaction at the time because I looked up to her and tried to be like her in every way.' As the abuse continued, she said Marke threatened to smash her kneecaps if she told anyone. 'He just said nobody would believe me if I told them anyway,' she told police. 'They always had a power over me.' Marke and Phythian are jointly accused of fourteen charges of sexual activity with a child in relation to the woman. Marke is also accused of four additional charges of indecently assaulting a child, which are related to another woman who complained to police. She was aged fifteen when she was allegedly abused by Marke, between 2002 and 2003. The court was told that Marke was married to a woman called Juliet when the abuse started. However, the marriage broke down, the court heard, after Marke had an affair with Phythian, who was a teenager herself at the time. The trial continues.
The Conservative MP accused of watching pornography in the House of Commons chamber has been named as Neil Parish. He has been suspended from the parliamentary party and is under investigation by Parliament's standards commissioner. Two female colleagues complained earlier this week after allegedly seeing him looking at adult content on his phone while sitting near them. Parish said he had referred himself for investigation. If the standards commissioner, Kathryn Stone, finds that he has violated the code of conduct for MPs, possible sanctions range from having to make an apology to the Commons to suspension or expulsion. Questioned by the BBC, Parish said he would 'co-operate fully' with the inquiry and would await Stone's findings before commenting on the allegation. When asked if he made a mistake and opened something on his phone in error, he said: 'I did, but let the inquiry look at that. Of course it's embarrassing and its embarrassing for my wife and family and that's my main concern at the moment,' he said, 'I have a very supportive wife and I thank her for that.' Parish said he had told his wife that the reports concerned him on Friday afternoon and said he would 'not remain' an MP if he was 'found guilty.' For the time being, Parish said he would 'continue to perform my duties as MP for Tiverton and Honiton' while the investigation was ongoing, in a statement on his website. In an interview with The Times, Parish's wife, Sue, said the allegation was 'very embarrassing' and described her husband as 'quite a normal guy and a lovely person.' She said she did not see the attraction of pornography and understood why the women who made the allegation were upset. 'I'm a woman,' she was quoted as saying. 'Hence why the women were so cross. It's degrading. It's demanding. But on the other hand it takes two to tango. There must be women posing for all this.' Veteran Labour MP and former deputy party leader Harriet Harman told the BBC the allegations marked a 'new low for the House of Commons.'
Subsequently, Parish claimed - not particularly convincingly - that he 'may' have opened the web page containing pornography on his phone 'by mistake.' Whilst he had, allegedly, been looking for information on tractors.
Then, the following day, Parish seemingly realised that absolutely no one was buying his 'this was all a ghastly tractor-related mistake' rhetoric and coughed up to his naughty porn-viewing ways, offering his resignation and asking not to be caned, suggesting that he had been led astray by older boys. Probably. Parish, who has represented Tiverton and Honiton in Devon since 2010, said it had been a 'moment of madness.' Although given that he has, reportedly, admitted to twice viewing the same porn website, surely that should be two moments of madness?
Ultimately, what does all of this malarkey prove, dear blog reader? Well ...
A London police officer who appeared on the Nigerian version of Big Brother without permission from her bosses has been given a final written warning. Which, presumably, included the observation that 'Big Brother is so last decade, baby.' Constable Khafilat Kareem was a serving Metropolitan Police officer when she applied to be on the show in 2019. A misconduct hearing ruled Kareem should be given the written warning after gross misconduct was proven. She entered the Big Brother house in Lagos in June 2019 and lasted seventy seven days before being evicted. The misconduct panel found Kareem had 'breached the standards of professional behaviour' in relation to 'orders and instructions' and 'discreditable conduct.' By appearing on a shit reality TV-show. Following the panel's conclusion, Detective Chief Superintendent Andy Day said: 'Permission was refused for Kareem to appear on the Nigerian version of Big Brother as it was felt it was not in the best interest for either her or the Metropolitan Police Service to take part. Despite this refusal, she went on the show anyway. A detailed investigation was carried out by the Met's Directorate of Professional Standards which concluded Kareem should face gross misconduct proceedings. Being a police officer means you must abide by the standards of professional behaviour. Kareem's behaviour clearly fell far short and she has been given a final written warning.' Kareem had admitted one misconduct allegation of surrendering her work laptop to the producers of Big Brother, but had denied three other misconduct allegations. In June 2019, she requested unpaid leave to appear on the show. Although permission for the leave was granted, permission to take part in the show was not. Earlier this week, the tribunal heard Kareem contacted Deputy Assistant Commissioner Matt Twist on 30 June hours before she went on the programme to ask him to reverse the decision for her not to go on the programme. Twist voiced concerns over Kareem's welfare, her conduct and the public image of a serving Met Police officer on a - crap - reality TV-show. Her superior, Chief Superintendent Jason Gwillim, said the following day that he 'became aware'  Kareem had entered the Big Brother house and would be uncontactable until September. He told the hearing his concerns then shifted towards her welfare as the national media began to pick up on the story.
New Evidence Suggests Shakespeare May Have Stolen The Plot Of Cymbeline according to a piece of half-arsed bollocks in the Gruniad Morning Star. To which, no doubt, The Bard his very self would have replied: 'Tis slander!'Cymbeline, one of Shakespeare's later - less funny - plays, is about an ancient King of the Britons. It revolves around a bet about the faithfulness of his daughter, Innogen, to the man she marries in secret, Posthumus Leonatus and builds into a confrontation between the Britons and the Roman army. The character of Cymbeline is based on a Celtic King referred to by contemporary historians and an important figure in later histories of Britain by writers such as Geoffrey of Monmouth. You knew all that, right?
A 'top scientist' (this is according to the Sun so, dear blog readers will have to kindly put up with some dreadful writing in this section) is 'plotting a mission to find what he believes is alien technology lying at the bottom of the Pacific Ocean.' Controversial (for which read 'other top scientists think he's a bit mental') astrophysicist Avi Loeb believes an interstellar object that crash-landed on Earth in 2014 was 'some form of spacecraft.' A US Space Command report released last week confirmed that the object was 'from another star system.' However, the agency concluded, somewhat more plausibly, that the projectile - splashed down off the coast of Manus Island, Papua New Guinea - was a meteor. Professor Loeb, however, 'is having none of it.' (Again, dear blog reader, this is the Sun so, you know, allowances have to be made. Especially at the lack of many words with more than one syllable in the article.) Loeb claimed on Wednesday that the object 'could' have been 'built by extraterrestrials.' Interesting scientific word, 'could', don't you think? 'Our discovery of an interstellar meteor heralds a new research frontier,' the Harvard astronomer wrote in an essay for The Debrief. 'The fundamental question is whether any interstellar meteor might indicate a composition that is unambiguously artificial in origin. Better still, perhaps some technological components would survive the impact.' Professor Loeb's claims frequently make headlines - especially when arsewipes like the Sun get hold of them - and he has 'faced criticism from others in his field' over his 'outlandish extraterrestrial theories.' Working with a student at Harvard, Professor Loeb was actually the astronomer who identified the object as interstellar a few years ago. The pair wrote a paper about it but were instructed not to publish it because they used classified government data for their research. Which means that they're lucky they weren't banged up in Guantanamo without so much as a by-your-leave for such national security-threatening naughtiness. Loeb is calling for an expedition to find whatever's left of the object. In his essay, he noted that a 'retrieval expedition' could be achieved using 'scooping' magnets to explore the ten square kilometre region of the Pacific Ocean where the object is believed to have landed. 'My dream is to press some buttons on a functional piece of equipment that was manufactured outside of Earth,' he added. This blogger's dream, for what it's worth dear blog reader, involves Gillian Anderson, a tin of pears-in-syrup and some custard. Mind you, this blogger had eaten a lot of cheese before he went to bed that particular night. Anyway, the astrophysicist 'is no stranger to controversy,' according to the Sun. No shit? He has produced 'provocative research' on black holes, space radiation, the early universe and other topics of his field. And, also, claimed that Phil Chuckle was going to be the next Doctor. Which he isn't, by the way. Over the past decade, his focus has been trained on a more contentious topic: The possibility that Earth has been visited in the past by extraterrestrials. Professor Loeb has repeatedly claimed that Oumuamua - an interstellar object which passed through the Solar System in 2017 - was 'technology sent by aliens.' He repeated the 'heavily contested' comments - which earned him headlines across the globe and quite a bit of derision - in a book published last year. Which is available on Amazon if anyone fancies a good laugh. 'What would happen if a caveman saw a cellphone?' Loeb wrote. 'He's seen rocks all his life and he would have thought it was just a shiny rock.' He took fault with astronomers who argued that the object was a comet, saying it was akin to letting 'the familiar to define what we might discover.' If it looks like a duck, mate and it quacks like a duck ... Many scientists have rubbished his latest outlandish claims, branding them 'cavalier and irresponsible.' And yet, the Sun still chose to publish them. As 'news', apparently. Loeb heads The Galileo Project, which aims to establish a network of advanced telescopes that will scan the skies for any signs of alien life.
Look up in the sky at the right moment this very weekend, dear blog reader and you could see two of the solar system's brightest planets almost touching. Venus and Jupiter will be millions of miles apart, of course, but from Earth's perspective, they will appear close to colliding. This planetary conjunction happens annually but this year they will appear much closer than usual. The same spectacle won't occur again like this until 2039. Just the naked eye or binoculars should be enough to see it in a clear sky. After Saturday, the two planets will go their separate ways as they drift apart in the coming days. 'It's very exciting for astronomers and it's a really great opportunity for people to get out and have a look,' explained scientist, chief stargazer at the Society for Popular Astronomy, regular The Sky At Night contributor and From The North favourite Professor Lucie Green. The planets will be low in the sky, close to the horizon and hills and buildings could block the view. If you can, find a high spot and look for two dazzlingly bright spots very close together. 'The planets will differ in their brightness. Venus is brighter than Jupiter so it will look dazzlingly bright when you see it. Jupiter will be slightly fainter, about one-sixth of the brightness of Venus,' explained Professor Lucie. She suggested using an app to help navigate your way around the skies. Or, if you don't have a mobile phone - as many people don't - then just using your eyes would probably do.
A tornado has been filmed tearing through the US state of Kansas. Hang on ... this is the plot of The Wizard Of Oz, isn't it? If a young Judy Garland turns up wearing ruby slippers and clutching a small, yappy-type dog, you'll know that, truly, we are near The End Of Days.
On Thursday, dear blog reader, this blogger had one of his - increasingly rare - social outings, meeting with his mucker Young Malcolm at the Tyneside Cinema to watch John Madden's adaptation of Operation Mincemeat. And, very good it was, dear blog reader. Slightly too long, admittedly (two hours and eight minutes, this blogger could've done with it being about fifteen minutes shorter and his arse and bladder both agree with him). Gorgeously shot, though and really well-acted (it's got half-a-dozen or more of this blogger's favourite actors in it). Of course, as some dear blog readers will be aware, the story is based (loosely) on a true event which had previously been filmed in the 1950s (as The Man Who Never Was). This is much more an adaptation of From The North favourite Ben MacIntyre's recent book on the subject. This blogger enjoyed Johnny Flynn's delicious little turn (he even looks a bit like a young Ian Fleming), From The North favourite Hello To Jason Isaacs was, of course, great (so what else is new? At one point he was threatening to steal the movie in a handful of scenes, just as he did in Death Of Stalin). This blogger adored the, he presumes entirely intentional, [spooks] joke they gave to Matty Macfadyen early on in the piece. And, ultimately, this was a film with Colin Firth, Simon Russell Beale, Mark Gatiss, Kelly Macdonald, Mark Bonner, the late Paul Ritter and Penny Wilton in it, what - this blogger demands to knows - is there not to love? This blogger wasn't especially concerned by some of the liberties taken with aspects of the story - it is a movie after all. Young Malcolm got a bit of a lip-on over some 'factual errors.' This blogger merely observed that if he wants to know a true historical story, he'll read a book or watch a documentary on the subject; movies are something else entirely. That said, the one bit of the film that did rather irk this blogger was a historical one; the film begins in late 1942 and Ewan Montagu's wife and children are about to go to America because of a feared German invasion. If the setting had been in mid-1940 pre-The Battle Of Britain, no problem but by late 1942, the Americans and the Soviets were both in the war, Germany was fighting on two fronts already (soon to be three, with Italy), the RAF had given the Luftewaffe a jolly good, hard smacked bottom and the threat of a German invasion of Britain by that stage was minimal and had been for some considerable time - and pretty much everyone knew that. So, that didn't quite sit right with this blogger. Other than that, though ... recommended. Easily, eight out of ten. In fact, it would've been nine if they'd shaved a few minutes off it.
Three days earlier, yer actual Keith Telly Topping was up at the crack of dawn for a slow limp down the road from The Stately Telly Topping Manor Plague House to the bus stop. He was required to visit the Medical Centre for yet another appointment with the - always excellent - Doctor Nasir. During which, this blogger mentioned another symptom in his on-going, much-whinged-about anaemia-related malarkey. (For those who haven't been following the saga which seems to have been on-going longer than Doctor Who: This blogger spent several weeks feeling proper poorly for reasons which no medical professional whom he consulted seemed able to discover; then, he got much worse and spent a week in hospital; he got discharged; he had some injections; he had even more injections; he recovered - somewhat - his previously missing-in-action appetite; he got an - at least partial - diagnosis of his issues; he had a meeting with his hospital consultant; he told anyone that was interested - and, indeed, anyone that wasn't - that he was still suffering from fatigue on a daily basis and he endured another endoscopy.) This blogger has been getting some ankle swelling - and, indeed, calf swelling - usually whenever he has needed to walk any short distance. It's one of the by-products of anaemia, apparently and it's been a shade less prevalent recently than it was just after this blogger got out of hospital. He hadn't mentioned it to his doctor previously, at least in part, due to the positive deluge of other - seemingly, far more serious - symptoms which he has; fatigue, dizziness, insomnia, loss of taste, pins and needles, heart palpitations, glossitis, stomach tenderness, muscle weakness et cetera. Doctor Nasir suggested that the swelling is most likely due to a lack of exercise at the moment and that, once this blogger starts to feel better and begins doing some walking on a regular basis (as opposed to just to-and-from the bus stop, as at the moment) the swelling should begin to lessen, somewhat. We also discussed the diagnosis by the hospital of a Hiatus Hernia last week (Doctor Nasir said it shouldn't affect this blogger too much and it is relatively easy to control via medication). This blogger got a Med 3 covering the next six weeks and went to the post office to withdraw some money. Then, he took the bus home (needing to stop on the way at ALDI for bread, milk, coffee, eggs and mushrooms). As usual after such a - relatively short and not particularly athletic - trip, this blogger got home to find himself exhausted, fatigued, shagged-out, dog-tired and in serious need of a lie down for an hour on the sofa to recover. Something of a regular occurrence, at The Stately Telly Topping Manor Plague House, these days.
There was another verse of From The North favourite Breakfast At Morrisons on Wednesday. Sausage, scrambled eggs, toast, tea and the Metro crossword, dear blog readers. Oh, how richly deserved that was.
Could this surprise new signing be Everton's secret weapon in their efforts to avoid relegation from The Premier League?
In The Premier League last weekend, Jesus scored four (FOUR) for Sheikh Yer Man City. His dad would, no doubt, have been so proud of him.
Meanwhile, at Carrow Road ...
Eric Chappell, the writer of some of ITV's most popular sitcoms, including Rising Damp, Only When I Laugh and Duty Free, has died at the age of eighty eight. His death was revealed by the actor Reece Dinsdale, who starred alongside the late John Thaw in Chappell's sitcom Home To Roost. Dinsdale wrote on Twitter: 'Thank you for everything you did for me, Sir, your scripts were a complete joy to play.' Chappell was a prolific writer for theatre and television but his crowning achievement was Rising Damp, described as 'ITV's finest ever sitcom' by Mark Lewisohn in The Radio Times Guide To Comedy. At a time when the Radio Times used to be written by adults. Rising Damp ran between 1974 and 1978 and had a magnificent central cast: Leonard Rossiter as the miserly, manic, landlord Rigsby, Frances de la Tour as the dreamy romantic Ruth Jones, Don Warrington as the suave Philip, who claims to be the son of an African chief and the late Richard Beckinsale as the naïve, good-natured medical student Alan. Rising Damp regularly attracted audiences of eighteen million. Its many fans include the Gruniad Morning Star's film editor, Catherine Shoard, who wrote in 2009: 'At its best, it bears comparison with Beckett and Pinter.' Chappell told the Gruniad last year that he had been concerned that Rigsby's prejudicial attitude towards Philip ('don't worry', Risby tells a crying baby in one episode. 'He won't eat you. His father might've!') could be misinterpreted as something to be celebrated or mimicked by bonehead numbskulls, as had infamously happened with Johnny Speight's character of Alf Garnett. The quality of the writing meant that was not to be the case. Chappell said he hoped he 'had written an intelligent comedy about race relations.' Chappell was born in Grantham, in September 1933 and worked as an auditor for the East Midlands Electricity Board for twenty two years. After several of his novels were rejected by publishers he decided to write plays, recognising that dialogue was his great skill. On a whim, he sent his first attempt, The Banana Box, to an agent at Curtis Brown because he had read and admired the plays of RC Sherriff, who was a client of that agency. There was a reading of the play, then a premiere at The Phoenix Theatre in Leicester in 1971, with Wilfrid Brambell in the landlord role, followed by an Oxford Playhouse touring production by David Scase. This version moved to the Hampstead Theatre Club in London in May 1973 - the text was published in Plays & Players magazine - with Rossiter, De la Tour (replacing Rosemary Leach, who had originally played Miss Jones), Warrington and Paul Jones - the actor and former singer with Manfred Mann - as Alan. It then transferred to The Apollo Theatre for a six-week run as the television pilot was commissioned and Beckinsale replaced Jones. The BBC had allegedly declined to take up an option because Chappell's script contained 'too many jokes.' The landlord as played by Brambell had been called Rooksby, but a real-life landlord of that name objected to being represented on-stage as such a scrofulous, lecherous toe-rag and the name was changed. It was undoubtedly Rossiter's turbo-charged, manic and physically extraordinary performance that propelled the huge success of the TV series. Joe McGrath's 1980 film adaptation, with Christopher Strauli replacing Beckinsale, who had tragically died in 1979, was a disappointment, but Rising Damp lives on in endless repeats. Chappell became a full-time writer and embarked on a prolific career. Another TV sitcom he had created, The Squirrels, was broadcast at around the same time as Rising Damp. This was set in the accounts department of a television rental company and starred Bernard Hepton as a boss who, like Rigsby, but less alarmingly, sees himself as something of a ladies' man. Most of Chappell's writing played on ideas of class distinction, snobbery and delusions of grandeur, separated partners and adultery and social and emotional crises. Always working on an Olympia typewriter, he wrote most of his TV sitcoms as dramatic pieces for the theatre, sometimes adapting a play - he wrote over two dozen in all - and, occasionally, returning a sitcom to its theatrical roots. None of these plays achieved success comparable to that of The Banana Box. Father's Day (2011) for instance, was a poor spin-off from the series Home To Roost (1985 to 1990) starring John Thaw as an irascible divorcee who has his comfortable bachelor-pad existence invaded by a teenage, semi-delinquent son (Reece Dinsdale), who turns out to be a chip off the old block. Wife After Death - in which a husband's double life comes to light at his funeral - was last heard of touring with Tom Conti in 2010, although it does, like many of Chappell's plays, remain a staple of the amateur rep. This recognition, at least, satisfied his hunger for appreciation in the live theatre, which he loved. Chappell's other sitcom series included two collaborations with the late Peter Bowles (who had played a lascivious thespian in one memorable Rising Damp episode): The highly successful Only When I Laugh (1979 to 1982), in which Bowles was one of a trio of class-differentiated patients in a hospital ward (the others played by Strauli and, in a magnificent performance as the workshy Royston Figgis, James Bolam), supervised by Richard Wilson as a grumpy surgeon and The Bounder (1982 to 1983), in which Bowles struck up a superb double-act with George Cole as, respectively, an ex-convict living with his streetwise brother-in-law. There were some highlights in Duty Free (1984 to 1986), with two British couples intermingling adulterously on holiday in Marbella (Keith Barron and Joanna Van Gyseghem crossing a class barrier in illicit lust) and in Singles (1988 to 1991), both co-written with Jean Warr, with Roger Rees, Judy Loe (Beckinsale's widow) and, replacing Rees in the third series, Simon Cadell, in a maelstrom of a singles bar where the regulars jockey for social and sexual supremacy. His final two TV creations were another Keith Barron vehicle, Haggard (1990) and Fiddler's Three (1991), an effective remake of The Squirrels, starring Peter Davison and Paula Wilcox. He never moved far from his roots, living in the village of Barrowby, two miles outside Grantham, smoking his pipe, playing golf and tennis and quietly contemplating the folly of most human endeavour and behaviour, a good deal of which he skewered for the delight of millions of viewers in his popular, perceptive writing. Chappell married Muriel Taylor, who worked for Oxfam, in 1959. They had two children, Richard and Paula, both teachers. All three survive him.
The Grand Old Duke Of York, dear blog reader, he used to have ten million quid, dear blog reader. Key words, 'used to have'. Now, he has been stripped of his Freedom of the City of York honour following a vote by councillors. The motion to remove the accolade given to Prince Andrew in 1987 was carried unanimously at a full council meeting. Councillors also called for him to relinquish his Grand Old Duke Of York (he had ten million quid) title in the wake of his out-of-court settlement with Virginia Giuffre in the US. In February, the prince agreed to pay an undisclosed (but, allegedly, massive) portion of his vast wealth to Giuffre, who had accused him of sexual assault. Despite his claiming that he'd done nothing - nah-thing - wrong. Giuffre had been suing the Grand Old Duke Of York (he had ten million quid) in a civil case, claiming he sexually assaulted her on three occasions when she was seventeen, allegations he - it is important to note - which has repeatedly and strenuously denied. And, it is equally important to add, one or two people even believed him. York Liberal Democrats, the largest group on City of York Council, said the Grand Old Duke Of York (he had ten million quid) had been contacted by the local authority before the meeting to inform him of the motion. The rank of Duke, like other peerages, can only be removed by an act of parliament, which last occurred in 1917.
Now, the latest From The North Headline Of The Week award. And the nominees this week are, dear blog reader, the Hull Mail's Man Fears Pet Crow Called Craig Is Dead After Getting Him Addicted To Cigarettes. Lung cancer, was it?
The Brighton Argus's Sussex Man Sold Unlicensed Erectile Dysfunction Drugs. The article notes that the man has now been jailed for his naughty crimes. Receiving a stiff sentence, no doubt.
And, the BBC News website's US Bride & Caterer Arrested For Allegedly Drugging Guests With Cannabis. The arrests came two months after officials were called to the wedding to assist guests who said they felt as though they had been drugged. Danya Svoboda and caterer Joycelyn Bryan face charges of tampering, negligence and delivery of marijuana. Officials made the arrests after testing food and drinks from the party. The wedding occurred on 19 February in the city of Longwood, in Central Florida. Responding deputies wrote in their incident report that several of the fifty guests present reported 'feeling weird' (not unusual in Florida, dear blog reader, let it be noted - take a look at their governor for example and you, too, will probably feel weird) after eating meatballs, Caesar salad, tortellini and 'bread with an olive oil and herb dip.' Turns out the 'herb' used wasn't basil or dill but, rather, Mary Jane. Guests were reportedly complaining of stomach pains and vomiting. Several were taken to hospital for treatment. One guest told officers he 'felt tingly, his heart started to race and [he] was having crazy thoughts,' according to a police affidavit. Like 'that's the last time I ever gate-crash a wedding,' no doubt.
It has to be said, dear blog reader, if only they'd had this blogger on board Apollo 13, there wouldn't have been any need to get Houston involved. (By the way, if you were wondering, Tom and Bill are cardboard. But that is, indeed, the real Kevin Bacon.)
Speaking of movies, ahead of their long-awaited (well, four weeks-awaited) return to the national conscience with their new podcast in the commercial sector, From The North favourites Mark Kermode and Simon Mayo were the subject of the Observer Morning Star's You Ask The Questions piece this week with sour-faced Miranda Sawyer. You can check it out here - and you really should, dear blog reader, it's utterly brilliant. As with just about everything else the duo do. In addition for some interestingly off-the-wall questions about biscuits from, you know, '(relatively) normal people', celebrity fiends of the pair's late - and much lamented - BBC 5Live programme also contribute. Including Kenneth Brannagh, Mark Strong, Thandwie Newton, Edgar Wright, Mike Leigh and, of course, Hello To Jason Isaacs. The piece also includes the Observer's list of what they consider to be the five 'best' moments from Kermode & Mayo's Film Review, which manages to miss off the time Russell Crowe threatened to chin Mark over an NME review of Romper Stomper which Mark didn't even write. And, of course, anything featuring a review of a movie that had Danny Dyer in it.
And, finally dear blog reader, this.

"In A Sieve, I'll Thither Sail"

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In the last From The North bloggerisationisms update, dear blog reader, the Radio Times's - rather ludicrous and hysterical - reporting of David Tennant's response to a fan-rumour that he was returning to Doctor Who now that his old mate Big Rusty has taken over as showrunner on the popular long-running family SF drama was covered in forensic detail. As was the fact that the Radio Times - which used to be a good magazine, when it was staffed by adults - had done more than many other organs of the media to push this dubious story to a wider audience. But, you may be wondering, where on Earth (or, indeed, off Earth) did this dodgiest of dodgy rumours originate (other than the obvious answer, 'in the darkest corners of a damaged mind')?
The 'David is coming back as Doctor number fourteen (or, fifteen if you include John Hurt. Or sixteen if you include Richard Hurndall. Or, seventeen if you include David Bradley. Or, eighteen, if you include Jo Martin. Et cetera, et cetera)' malarkey seemed to have originated from someone posting on the Reddit forum. Who, he, she or it claimed, had an actual source at the actual BBC during the actual Chris Chibnall era. Actually. Whether this claim is true, partly true or - as this blogger suspects - not even remotely true has been, it seems, the subject of some considerable debate on the forum itself. But, apparently, he, she or it did, indeed, get some advance-spoiler details correct concerning Eve Of The Daleks and Legend Of The Sea Devils (and, potentially, the as-yet-unbroadcast Jodie Whittaker finale). This individual, it is reported, swore - like a big sweary thing - that David Tennant would be coming back as 'the next Doctor.' After, apparently, previously swearing - like a big sweary thing - that it would be Huge Grant. A rumour which this blog has already covered. And, hysterically, laughed at. Whether this individual was the original source of that rumour - which, thanks to some knobcheese at the Daily Mirra became the main news story in Great Britain for a day or two in March - is not known. But it has to be a distinct possibility. This mysterious leaker then, reportedly, backed down big-style and changed his, her or its story to the David Tennant rumour. This blogger has been told by one who saw the story emerge, that it was 'something to do with a mayfly Doctor who would [be the] lead in one to three specials (possibly including the sixtieth anniversary special) and then regenerate into the next Doctor for series fourteen.' The story subsequently mutated into Jodie Whittaker's Doctor 'degenerating back to [Tennant] because of [...] reasons.' Then, it was Tennant 'playing a whole new incarnation of The Doctor with Catherine Tate also returning as someone other than Donna Noble.'
The rumour - or variants of it - seems to have gravitated from Reddit to Doctor Who groups on Facebook - which is where this blogger first became aware of it - to the spoiler area of a particularly well-known Doctor Who forum and then, inevitably, to the notorious Plymouth Live website. Where it appeared in a - truly risible - article which cited a Facebook post that, it was claimed, contained information supplied by 'a credible BBC source.' Credible, perhaps but still suspiciously anonymous. And, therefore, almost certainly fictitious. In case you haven't previously come across it, dear blog reader (and, if that's you, count yourselves jolly lucky) Plymouth Live is a website associated with the Plymouth Herald local newspaper which, apparently, has at least one member of staff who trawls, with monotonous regularity, Doctor Who fan forums and Facebook for rumours containing a Doctor Who angle. Because, seeming, there is no actual news to report in Devon. Seriously, dear blog reader, Plymouth Live has become something of a running joke amongst the (slightly) more sensible end of Doctor Who fandom, barely a day going by without yet another Doctor Who-related 'story' (and, this blogger uses that word quite wrongly) appearing on Plymouth Live. Recent examples have included Doctor Who: Fans Slam 'Sexist'Weakest Link Winner After Comments Cause Outrage, Doctor Who: Pointless Question Has Fans Lamenting Sign Of The Times', John Bishop Spotted Buying Coffee In Plymouth After Doctor Who Role, Doctor Who: 'New Doctor' Harry Hill Joke Tweet Fools 'Gullible' Fans, David Tennant Replaced By Danny Dyer As Favourite To Replace Jodie Whittaker, Doctor Who: Young Fan Forced To Leave Collection Behind In Ukraine and, this blogger's particular favourite, Doctor Who: David Tennant Return Would Be 'Fantastic' Says Rebel Flesh Actress.
Every single one of these being - clearly - an example of unsurpassed literary journalistic genius and all of them will, no doubt, be leading contenders for next year's Pulitzer Prize. One is sure that the parents of the authors of these 'stories' are pure-dead proud of their offspring.
The Tennant story then appeared to spread mostly though Twitter. Which, as we all know, is The Sole Arbiter Of The Worth Of All Things. At least, it is according to the Middle Class hippy Communist vegan-quiche eaters at the Gruniad Morning Star and, sadly, the BBC News website. The latter of which - once again - used to be run by adults but now appears to get the majority of the TV and entertainment stories which it covers directly from what some plank of no important wrote on Twitter. Watching all of this nonsense spread, in real time - and no amount of logic could slow it down - was a sight to see, dear blog reader. Truly, a sight to see. The perceived wisdom by True Believers seeming to be that Big Rusty is going to take the franchise back and, essentially, make the same show he did in 2006 so all the fans who left when he did will now come back, en masse. Because everyone knows The Lord Thy God Steven Moffat (OBE)'s tenure and all his characters were terrible - except, of course, they weren't that or anything even remotely like it. So, some fans believe that Doctor Who is going back to 2006. Or, maybe to 2008. But, definitely not to 2007, because 'we don't need no woke companions shoved in down our throats.'
This blogger suspects that Big Rusty's actual plans for Doctor Who are locked up tighter than a camel's eye in a sandstorm and that all online chancers who claim to have an 'in' at the BBC actually don't. Or, if they once did, they don't have an 'in' at Bad Wolf. One would also like to believe that, in 2022, Russell has a greater range of creative ideas than merely falling back on fourteen to sixteen year old characters. Which does not, necessarily, mean that Tennant - or Eccleston, or Smudger, or Capaldi - might not show up in something like the sixtieth anniversary special, of course. That's entirely possible. But, as for David Tennant returning on any sort of regular basis? It's unlikely, let's put it that way. And, dear blog reader, please feel free if any of these tall tales do end up coming to pass, to sneer like a big sneering thing at this blogger for being ... whatever the opposite of gullible is. Because, if you don't (and, I know you will), there are plenty of others in Doctor Who fandom who are eagerly awaiting the opportunity to do exactly that. This blogger wishes to extend his sincerely gratitude to his very lovely Facebook fiend, Jan, for supplying much of the above narrative; some of which this blogger previously knew but lots he didn't (particularly the rumour's apparent origins on Reddit.)
Incidentally, dear blog reader, speaking of The Divine Jan, she was recently complaining - almost certainly with total justification - about someone 'Mansplaining' something to her. This blogger promptly took it upon himself to offer a heartfelt apology to her on behalf of all mankind and assure her that, in future, we will - collectively - try to do better. Jan's response was: 'I didn't realise you'd be coronated [sic] as King Of All Men.' To which this blogger assured her: 'Oh yes, a memo was sent; we held a vote and everything.'
Congratulations are, also, due to the Cult Box website for their article Doctor Who Sixtieth Anniversary Special & Series Beyond which opens with a piece of honesty not many media stories about Doctor Who's future can match: 'Not much is known about the plans showrunner Russell T Davies has for Doctor Who in 2023.' And, for 'not much', read 'absolutely nothing. Well, strictly speaking, we know Big Rusty will be showrunning and that an episode will be broadcast on, or very near to, 23 November 2023. But, that's it - we don't even know whom The Doctor will be. We've got a pretty good idea of whom he or she won't be, though. Huge Grant, David Tennant, Danny Dyer, Harry Hill, James Corden, Tony Head, Craig Charles, et cetera.'
Mandip Gill is swapping the TARDIS for a star-turn in 2:22 - A Ghost Story. This week she discussed her friendship with the current Time Lord and an 'eye-opening' new role alongside Uma Thurman with some Middle Class hippy Communist from the Gruniad Morning Star. Which you can read here.
'When did Doctor Who start to go all woke?' is, of course, a fascinatingly twatty question, usually asked by people with a monobrow and disgusting halitosis. And, to which the answer is: 'Wasn't the first story directed by a gay British-Asian man and produced by a Jewish woman? So, 1963, then ...'That should shut the questioner up. Should, but it probably won't. Mind you, a good, hard biff on the conk with a wet sock would, likely, also achieve such a satisfying outcome.
Be aware, however, that Doctor Who is hardly alone in this regard, dear blog reader. Everyone's seems to be at it these days.
Sunday's episode of From The North favourite Grace - Not Dead Enough - was a right good laugh. Unless you're a sour-faced whinger on Twitter, obviously. And, if you are, what the Hell are you doing reading this blog? Admittedly, the plot of this episode was a bit credulity-stretching (to such an extent that the Radio Times felt it needed to explain the climax for all of their readers. Who - like the staff - used to be adults. Nevertheless, it was great to see From The North favourite Arty Darvill turning up as not-one-but-two potential serial killers and acting his little cotton socks off. So, no change there, then.
This week also saw a trio of US TV preview discs rocking up on The Stately Telly Topping Manor Plague House doormat. The Man Who Fell To Earth: Unwashed & Somewhat Slightly Dazed, for instance. Wow. It actually gets better (this blogger didn't think that was possible after the utterly sublime opening episode). A great cast helps, obviously and From The North favourite Chiwetel Ejofor is hilarious as the titular, bewildered, fish-out-of-water alien. This blogger, let it be noted, loved The Temptations sequence the mostest, baby.
The Star Trek: Strange New Worlds pilot was also damned impressive. A bit functional towards the end after a thoroughly sharp opening twenty minutes, perhaps, but this blogger certainly enjoyed it and will be happy to return for more. Again, a very good cast helps the viewer actually care about the characters. Though this blogger is not too sure how turning Christine Chapel into a tech-head (with athletic skills) instead of the nice nurse-lady who hands Doctor McCoy the tricorder on a regular basis and says 'Mister Spock, I'm scared' quite a lot fits into retro-continuity. Although it is, undeniably, slightly more acceptable to Twenty First Century sensibilities. The series has a smashing title sequence as well. And, it's nice to have a Star Trek series that, for once, actually takes place on the starship Enterprise. Christ, even the Radio Times' resident whinging faceache Huge Fullerton liked it. According to the - much more reliable than the Radio Times - Sci Fi Bulletin, the series will debut in the UK on 22 June of Paramount+.
On the other hand, Picard: Farewell - hmm ... far too much talking (actually, make that speechifying) for most of the episode. And, too many subplots followed by not one but two false climaxes. Then, at the end ... it got beautiful in those final two scenes. But that wasn't quite enough to justify four-and-a-bit episodes of not an awful lot happening. This series has been very much a game of two-halves and second-half, sadly, didn't fulfill of the promise of the first. But, hey, next year it's going to be The Next Generation series eight, apparently.
The first Game Of Thrones spin-off is, finally, arriving later this year in the shape of House Of The Dragon - and the first full-length trailer has been shared this week by HBO and Sky. The trailer includes lots of exciting footage from the new series, including the sight of some dragons flying over King's Landing, hints of a very bloody war and another look at the much bigger (and spikier) version of The Iron Throne. That was previously glimpsed in a teaser trailer - released in October 2021 - which saw Matt Smith's Prince Daemon declare: 'Dreams didn't make us Kings, dragons did' and included snippets from a great tournament apparently involving the Tarlys.
Christopher Eccleston has signed up to feature alongside From The North favourite Daisy Ridley in the upcoming Disney+ movie Young Woman & The Sea. The film will also feature Stephen Graham and Tilda Cobham-Hervey. Based on a novel by Glenn Stout, the drama chronicles the life of Gertrude Ederle as she pushes herself to make record-breaking achievements. Ederle, in 1926, became the first woman ever to swim across the English Channel. The daughter of a German butcher from Manhattan, Ederle was a competitive swimmer who won gold in the 1924 Olympics. She attempted to cross the Channel after first swimming twenty two miles from Battery Park in New York to Sandy Hook, New Jersey, setting a record which remained unmatched for over eighty years. Production on Young Woman & The Sea is underway with Joachim Rønning directing.
Upcoming Channel 4 thriller Suspect already boasted a star-studded cast; James Nesbitt leading an ensemble that also includes the likes of Richard E Grant, Anne-Marie Duff, Sacha Dhawan and Sam Heughan. Now the broadcaster has released the poster for the eight-part series, which sees the main cast members and also includes Joely Richardson, Ben Miller and Niamh Algar. Suspect will be broadcast later in 2022.
From The North favourite Simon Mayo has said that working at the BBC could be 'soul destroying' because there are 'so many hoops to jump through.' The radio presenter has just quit the corporation after forty years and he and Mark Kermode have signed a deal with Sony to launch their new movie review podcast Kermode & Mayo's Take. Mayo told the Radio Times: 'When Sony come along and say, "We will invest in this programme in a way that it hasn't been invested in so far" you think, that's interesting.' Asked to elaborate on examples of being frustrated by the BBC red tape, Simon cited a contest he ran on his 5Live show. 'We did a very successful short-film competition called Well Done U. The quality of the entries was brilliant, but there are so many BBC hoops to jump through to actually get something like that on the air that after a while people stop trying, because it's soul destroying. This way we'll be able to bring things like that back.' The former Radio 1 Breakfast Show and Radio 2 Drive Time presenter has said he and Kermode would struggle to launch their own film show at the BBC now, with 'two middle-aged men' presenting it. He said: 'The truth of the matter is, if you were going to start a new film show on the BBC right now there would be no chance of me and Mark being asked to do it.'
The timing of the interview - as with last weekend's Observer Q&A with the duo - was, clearly, part of a media blitz to tie in with the first episode of Mark and Simon's move into the commercial podcast sector, Kermode & Mayo's Take, uploaded on Friday. (And, no surprise, very good it was, too.)
So, we come to that regular part of the blog dedicated to this blogger's - much-whinged-about - on-going medical issues. (For those who haven't been following the on-going saga which seems to have been on-going longer than Panorama: This blogger spent several weeks feeling proper poorly for reasons that no medical professional seemed able to discover; he got much worse and spent a week in hospital; he got discharged; he had some - really painful - injections; he had even more injections (equally painful); he recovered - somewhat - his previously missing-in-action appetite; he got an - at least partial - diagnosis of his issues; he had a meeting with his consultant; he told anyone that was interested that he was still suffering from serious fatigue; he endured a second endoscopy and he had another consultation with the excellent Doctor Nasir.) This week, dear blog reader ... nothing. Not a smidgen. Bugger all. Well, a trip to the dentists on Thursday (see below). But, otherwise, nothing further to report.
Or, if you prefer ...
This blogger remains not a well chap at present, however. Here, for example, is the - extremely colourful - regular morning intake of very hard drugs at The Stately Telly Topping Manor Plague House. Sadly, remarkably few of these lead to the sort of weird and lurid hallucinations that one writes brilliant songs whilst being under their influence.
So, this blogger said 'what about May Bank Holiday Monday Breakfast at Morrisons?' And, she said 'you really deserve that.' And, indeed, she was right, Keith Telly Topping totally did.
Thursday morning, dear blog reader, saw this blogger required to leave the safety of The Stately Telly Topping Manor Plague House for a bit of pole-vaulting (note that this blogger did not need to use the disabled access. But, the 'Way In' sign was jolly useful).
... and, then he got completely filled-in.
Just as this blogger got back to The Stately Telly Topping Manor Plague House and was about to take a long, leisurely dump on the Stately Telly Topping Manor Plague House netty, the Stately Telly Topping Manor Plague House telephone rang. It was a very nice lady from Sky who was ringing in connection with an e-mail this blogger had sent them querying the amounts on his forthcoming bills for July and August (they were both about a fiver higher than expected and this blogger stated, politely, that he wished to know why). 'Is this a good time to speak?' she asked. This blogger felt that honesty was the best policy at this moment. 'Well, my mouth is still numb from a dentists injection and I quite urgently need a crap' replied yer actual Keith Telly Topping. She said that she'd ring back.
Of course, it could have been so much worse. This week the Reading Chronicle reported that Pangbourne Celebrates New Public Toilet Opening, adding that 'The APTCT campaign group formed in 2017 after West Berkshire Council closed the facility.' Presumably, the people of Pangbourne have been crossing their legs and whistling for the last five years. Or, you know, pissing and shitting in the streets. Yeah, actually, the latter sounds infinitely more plausible.
On Friday, for us dinner at The Stately Telly Topping Manor Plague House, this blogger managed to come up with home-made shrimp and mushroom curry with black pepper and basmati rice. Which was, if you were wondering, a) geet lush and b) really deserved.
An ancient manuscript written by the French astrologer Michel de Nostredame, better known as Nostradamus, stolen from a library in Rome has been returned to the Italian capital. The manuscript, entitled Nostradamus M Prophecies and dating back about three hundred years, was rediscovered last year when it was put up for sale by a German auction house. It is unclear exactly when the five hundred-page manuscript was stolen from the historical studies centre of the Barnabite fathers of Rome, but it is believed to have been about 2007. It is also unclear why, if Nostradmus was as his supporters claim, such a shit-hot seer of the future, he didn't warn anyone that this happenstance was going to occur. 'In the year Two Thousand and Seven/from its Roman home/one of my books will be thieved/and the perpetrators will be called ...' he could have written. In French, obviously. But, oddly, he didn't do that. One wonders why. 
One hundred and fourteen years after the legendary Victorian-era cricketer Doctor WG Grace's last match - and more than a century after his death - he has had six hundred and eighty five runs, sixty seven wickets and two centuries wiped from the records books. In a ruthless move the Wisden Cricketers' Almanack has decided that ten of Grace's matches were not at first-class level and as a result, has updated its records. Grace still has the small matter of fifty four thousand two hundred and eleven first-class runs, two thousand eight hundred and nine wickets and one hundred and twenty four centuries to his name from a career that spanned forty four seasons between 1865 and 1908. Grace's run haul is only bettered by four men - Jack Hobbs, Frank Woolley, Patsy Hendren and Philip Mead - whilst he opened the batting for England beyond his fiftieth birthday. But the move, which brings Wisden in line with the Association of Cricket Statisticians and Historians, does mean Grace's historic feat of becoming the first player to score one hundred first-class centuries actually happened two weeks later than previously thought - bad news for any owners of memorabilia which carries the original date. Wisden editor Lawrence Booth toldThe Times: 'The time has come to accept that the Almanack should be more concerned with record than romance.'
Now, dear blog reader, can you possibly guess which part of the world this gentleman is a native of? Yes, of course, it's the United States of America. It's the lack of a 'u' in the word neighbour that gives it away, yes?
The latest nominees for the From The North Headline Of The Week award include the Birmingham Mail's I Spent An Hour Eating KFC & Left With A One Hundred Pound Bill. But, that's disqualified because, if you read the story you'll discover that the one hundred knicker 'bill' was, actually, mostly made up by a parking fine which the author of the piece, one Kirsty Bosley, got landed with after she didn't bother to read the sign that said she could only park there for an hour. Them's the brakes, Kirsty. And, the steering wheel. And, the engine.
Next, we have the Nottingham Post's Curiosity In St Ann's As More Tyres Keep Appearing In The Area.
Then, there's Cornwall Live's Smelly Abandoned Wadebridge Home Leaves Neighbours Raging. Not merely angry, dear blog reader, but raging.
Of course, we couldn't possibly have a From The North Headline Of The Week award within including a nomination for at least one effort from the BBC News website. Kenya Alarm After Carrier Bag Mistaken For Stray Lion is, admittedly, one of their finer efforts.
Also worthy of consideration is the Watford Observer's Man Stands In Bus Lane Blocking Cars Near A41 Roundabout.
And, Fife Today's Kirkcaldy Couple Lose Holiday Cruise As They Went To Board Thanks To Routine Update Of Covid App. So, no 'dancing in the streets of Raith' this week, then?
Then, there's this.
According to the, always-reliable - and totally accurate - Lad Bible website, You Can Get Paid Thirty Thousand Punds To Eat Cheese But Only If You're Called Gary. Which sounds plausible. 
Meanwhile, the Financial Times states, Dollar-Denominated Trade Is The Devil's Doughnut.
The Gruniad Morning Star also made a late bid for the From The North Headline Of The Week award with Piers Corbyn Fined Over 'Murder' Claim At Covid Vaccine Clinic.
Convicted sex criminal Ghislaine Maxwell has lost her bid to overturn her trafficking conviction. But. shockingly (and stunningly), she had the maximum sentence of her sick and sordid crimes cut by ten years. The socialite - who was very convicted of recruiting girls for Jeffrey Epstein to abuse - still faces a possible fifty five-years in The Joint when she is sentenced in June after losing her latest legal challenge.
Odious oily twat Piers Morgan 'risks coming unstuck as viewers turn off TalkTV,'claims the Torygraph. Billionaire tyrant Rupert Murdoch's star-signing 'started off well' with his notoriously hyped interview with now extremely former President, Mister Rump, but audiences are, the Torygraph claims, 'on the slide.' Which is, obviously, a tragedy. 
Charlie Elphicke was the MP for Dover when he was found extremely guilty of sexually assaulting two women, including one whom he chased around his home chanting: 'I'm a naughty Tory.' He recently told the court that he was 'in a very difficult and embarrassing situation' and is finding it hard to get any job. He is, he claimed, looking at supermarket shelf-stacking and building site work to pay back his prosecution costs.
Do you still struggle with teenage mood swings in adulthood, dear blog reader? No, this blogger isn't judging you, he is merely quoting a - particularly noxious - article in the Daily Scum Mail in which clinical nutritionist Jessica Sepel (no, me neither, but, she's Australian, apparently) 'explains why we still experience teenage rage.' Alleged 'experts', the Scum Mail adds, suggest that eating too much white bread, a thyroid issue or not enough exercise could be to blame. Good word 'could'.
The Louisiana House of Representatives has, again, voted down a proposal to ban spanking and paddling of public school students. House Bill 649, authored by Republican Representative Stephanie Hilferty would have outlawed 'the use of physical force that causes pain or discomfort to discipline a student' in Louisiana schools. Correctional employees are not allowed to hit juvenile or adult offenders in the state's detention facilities, Hilferty said, so it made no sense that schools are allowed to hit children. She sponsored the same proposal last year, with opponents describing it "government overreach."'
A German woman has been jailed for six months after she was convicted of stealing her partner's sperm by poking holes in his condoms. In the sort of story the Daily Scum Mailloves, the woman, who wished to become pregnant, 'sabotaged her partner's condoms without his permission so she could harvest his genetic material.' The court in Western Germany was told that sabotaging a condom ahead of an assignation is known as 'stealthing' and normally involves the man destroying the birth control barrier. The thirty nine-year-old woman was described in court as being involved in a 'friends with benefits' relationship with a man. Definite minus points to the Scum Mail, however, as they - for once - completely failed to say how much the couple's house was worth in the headline.
This blogger rather enjoyed the Gruniad Morning Star's one star review of the recently released Faye. 'Single-performer horror show jabs at influencer culture. Kd Amond's cabin fever tale about a self-help author suffering from writer's block mostly features one character who talks too much.' Yes, this blogger's met more than a few people like that.
And finally dear blog reader, Keith Telly Topping can never make up his mind whether Dracula AD 1972 is the greatest 'bad' movie ever made or, alternatively, the worst 'great' movie ever made. Depending on the day, this blogger tends to shuttle backwards and forwards between these two options. Today, it's the former! If life is a party, dear blog reader, Keith Telly Topping would rather like it to be exactly like the one in Dracula AD 1972 with popular beat combo Stoneground playing 'Alligator Man' in the front room of The Stately Telly Topping Manor Plague House. Although, given that there were ten in the band, some of them would need to be in the kitchen, next door so we could fit them all into the gaff.

"Life May Be Prolonged, Yet Death Will Seize The Doctor Too"

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Ncuti Gatwa will take over from Jodie Whittaker as the star of Doctor Who, the BBC has announced. The twenty nine-year-old will become the fourteenth Time Lord on the BBC's popular long-running family SF drama. (Or, the fifteenth if you include John Hurt. Or the sixteenth if you include Richard Hurndall. Or, the seventeenth if you include David Bradley. Or, the eighteenth if you include Jo Martin. Et cetera, et cetera.) And, the first non-white performer to play the lead role. (Or, the second if you include Jo Martin. Which you really should.) So, not David Tennant, then? Or, Huge Grant? Or Danny Dyer for that matter (another triumph for Plymouth Live, there). 
The actor, who was born in Rwanda and raised in Scotland, is best known for starring in the Netflix sitcom Sex Education. This blogger has never watched it, personally, but he has been told - by people he respects who have - that it is 'very good' and that Ncuti is 'the best thing in it.' So, that all augers well (the last Doctor whose work this blogger was, broadly, unfamiliar with was Matt Smith and he did all right!) Ncuti (it's pronounced 'Shoo-tee' this blogger has been assured) told BBC News: 'It feels really amazing. It's a true honour. This role is an institution and it's so iconic.' Speaking on the red carpet before Sunday's BAFTA TV Awards, where he has been nominated for Sex Education, Ncuit said that the role of The Doctor 'means a lot to so many people, including myself.' He added: 'I feel very grateful to have had the baton handed over and I'm going to try to do my best.' Russell Davies said that Ncuti had impressed him in a 'blazing' audition. 'It was our last audition. Our very last one,' the writer and producer said. 'We thought we had someone and then in he came and stole it. I'm properly, properly thrilled. It's going to be a blazing future.' Big Rusty, who is returning to Doctor Who after a decade doing other stuff, posted a selfie with Ncuti on the BAFTA red carpet.
The actor has been nominated for the BAFTA for best male performance in a comedy programme for the third year in a row for Sex Education. Ncuti will also present an award at Sunday's ceremony. He has already won a Scottish BAFTA and a Rose d'Or Award for Sex Education. Ncuti said that he was 'definitely going to do my own thing' with the role rather than modelling himself on any previous Doctor. In a statement, he added that the prospect of working with Big Rusty was 'a dream come true,' adding: 'His writing is dynamic, exciting, incredibly intelligent and fizzing with danger - an actor's metaphorical playground. The entire team have been so welcoming and truly give their hearts to the show. And so as much as it's daunting, I'm aware I'm joining a really supportive family. Unlike The Doctor, I may only have one heart but I am giving it all to this show.' The BBC's chief content officer Charlotte Moore said: 'Ncuti has an incredible dynamism, he's a striking and fearless young actor whose talent and energy will set the world alight and take Doctor Who on extraordinary adventures under Russell T Davies' new era.'
Ncuti moved to Scotland as a toddler when his family fled the Rwandan genocide. He attended Boroughmuir High School and Dunfermline High School and graduated from the Royal Conservatoire of Scotland in Glasgow with a BA in Acting in 2013. In Sex Education, he plays Eric Effiong, a young gay British-Nigerian who is best friends with Otis, the show's lead character. He has also appeared in a BBC adaptation of Iain Banks' novel Stonemouth and the 2021 film The Last Letter From Your Lover. Ncuti began acting with a brief role in the 2014 sitcom Bob Servant. In 2015, he performed in The Kneehigh Theatres production of 946, which was adapted from Michael Morpurgo's The Amazing Story Of Adolphus Tips about the rehearsals for the D-Day landing in Devon. He played Demetrius in the 2016 production of A Midsummer Night's Dream at Shakespeare's Globe, directed by Emma Rice. He will also appear in the upcoming mini-series Masters Of The Air. All of us at From The North wish Ncuti all the very best for the forthcoming 'having your entire world rocked to its very core' which the media and fan attention will, no doubt, bring. 
From some very good news to a much sadder item. Dennis Waterman, familiar to millions for his roles in Minder, The Sweeney and New Tricks, has died, his family have said. He was seventy four. A statement said: 'We are deeply saddened to announce that our beloved Dennis passed away very peacefully in hospital in Spain.' He died on Sunday afternoon with wife Pam at his side, they added. 'The family kindly ask that our privacy is respected at this very difficult time.' Waterman found fame in his teens in the BBC children's drama William and became one of the best-known faces on British television in the 1970s when he played Sergeant George Carter opposite John Thaw in ITV's award-winning police drama The Sweeney.
He enjoyed more success in Minder from 1979 to 1989 as Terry McCann, the ex-boxer and bodyguard to George Cole's wheeler dealer Arthur Daley. Waterman went on to star in the comedies On The Up and Stay Lucky, before another popular and long-running role as another Cockney detective in New Tricks, which ran from 2003 to 2015.
Waterman was the youngest of nine children to Rose and Harry in Clapham. The family, which included siblings Ken, Peter, Stella, Norma, and Myrna, lived in Elms Road, Clapham Common. Harry Waterman was a ticket collector for British Railways. Two older sisters, Joy and Vera, had already left home by the time Dennis was born and another brother, Allen, had died as a child. Boxing was a big part of Waterman's childhood. His father had been an amateur boxer and made all of his sons box. Waterman's acting career began in childhood. His first role was in the movie Night Train For Inverness (1960). He appeared in two small stage roles for the Royal Shakespeare Company's 1960 season. The following year, at the age of thirteen, he was cast in the role of Winthrop Paroo in The Adelphi Theatre production of The Music Man (singing 'Gary, Indiana'). A year later, he got his breakthrough on TV, starring as William Brown in the BBC adaptation of the Just William books of Richard Crompton. Waterman played the role of Oliver Twist in the production of the Lionel Bart musical Oliver! staged at The Mermaid Theatre and appeared on a cast recording released in 1961. He was a series regular in the 1962 CBS comedy Fair Exchange, playing teenager Neville Finch. In 1963 he took a starring role in the Children's Film Foundation movie Go Kart Go. Waterman was in the original cast of Saved, the play written by Edward Bond and first produced at The Royal Court Theatre in November 1965. He had a major role in the film version of Up The Junction (1967) in which he played Peter, the boyfriend of Polly (Suzy Kendall).
In the early 1970s Waterman appeared in Colditz as a young Gestapo officer. He played the brother of a victim of Count Dracula in the Hammer film Scars Of Dracula (1970) and the boyfriend of Susan George in Fright (1971). He appeared alongside Richard Harris and John Huston in a Hollywood western, Man In The Wilderness (1971). He was a member of the company of actors who featured in The Sextet (1972), a BBC2 series which included the Dennis Potter drama Follow The Yellow Brick Road and Waterman later appeared in the same dramatist's Joe's Ark (Play For Today, 1974). Both plays were directed by Alan Bridges. Also in 1974, Waterman appeared in Man About The House, in which he played a friend of Robin, a German student Franz Wasserman (an evident play on his own surname). He became well known as George Carter in The Sweeney during the 1970s. Such was the popularity of the hard-hitting police drama that he and co-star John Thaw were guests on Eric Morecambe and Ernie Wise's 1976 BBC Christmas show (the favour was repaid when Eric and Ernie turned up in an episode of The Sweeney's final series in 1978).
As well as four series and the original Armchair Cinema pilot, Regan, the show also spawned two spin-off movies, Sweeney! and Sweeney 2. In addition to starring as Terry McCann in Minder, Waterman also sang the theme song, 'I Could Be So Good For You', which was a top three UK hit in 1980. It was written by Dennis's then-wife, Patricia, along with American songwriter Gerard Kenny. Waterman also recorded a song with George Cole: 'What Are We Gonna Get For 'Er Indoors?' But it was shit and it didn't chart. In 1976 Waterman released his first LP, Downwind Of Angels, arranged and produced by Brian Bennett of The Shadows. 
Waterman starred in a television film made by Tyne Tees Television, The World Cup: A Captain's Tale in 1982. It was the true story of West Auckland FC, an amateur Northern League side who won the Sir Thomas Lipton Trophy, sometimes described as the 'First World Cup'. Waterman played the part of Bob Jones, the club captain. It cost one-and-a-half million knicker to make of which most was funded by Waterman himself. Shooting took place in the North East and in Turin. Scenes were shot in County Durham pit villages and in Ashington where goal posts and a grandstand were erected in a public park with a colliery headframe in the background. It was one of Dennis's finest performances (although his Durham accent was a bit dodgy, admittedly). The same year, Waterman starred in the musical Windy City. A relatively short-lived production, the cast included Anton Rodgers, Diane Langton, Victor Spinetti and Amanda Redman, with whom Waterman had an eighteen-month affair during the run of the musical and with whom he later went on to star in New Tricks. He took the lead male role in the BAFTA-winning BBC adaptation of Fay Weldon's The Life & Loves Of A She-Devil (1986).
His CV also included appearances in the movies Snowball (recently shown on Talking Pictures), Crooks Anonymous, The Pirates Of Blood River, Oh! What A Lovely War, The Smashing Bird I Used To Know, My Lover My Son, Alice's Adventures in Wonderland, The Belstone Fox, The First Kangaroos, Vol-Au-Vent, Arthur's Dyke and Run For Your Wife. Though the least said about the latter, the better. On TV he has roles in series like The Barnstormers, Theatre 625 (the acclaimed 1965 production of Unman, Wittering & Zigo), Weavers Green, Journey To The Unknown, Paul Temple, Thirty Minute Theatre, Armchair Theatre, ThrillerOranges & Lemons, Special Branch, Tube Mice, The Knock and Murder In Mind. He recited excerpts from the journal of Walter Thompson for the UK History series Churchill's Bodyguard and appeared on stage in Jeffrey Bernard Is Unwell and as Alfred Doolittle in the 2001 London revival of My Fair Lady. He narrated the reality-format television programme Bad Lads' Army and appeared in the 2009 BBC2 mini series Moses Jones.
Waterman was caricatured by the nowhere-near-as-funny-as-he-thinks-he-is David Walliams in Little Britain, in sketches where Waterman visits his agent (played by Matt Lucas) looking for roles. The sketches feature Waterman being extremely small and getting offered, but always declining, respectable parts because he will not be allowed to 'write the theme tune [and] sing the theme tune.' This running joke was based on Waterman having previously sung the themes to at least four of the programmes in which he has starred - Minder, Stay Lucky, On the Up and New Tricks. In November 2006, showing he could be a good sport, Waterman made a guest appearance in Comic Relief Does Little Britain Live, alongside the comedy version of himself. A lifelong fan of Chelsea, Dennis's love of football was reflected in his being chosen to present Match Of The Seventies in 1995 and 1996. In 2015, his friend of many years, George Cole, died aged ninety. Waterman delivered the eulogy at Cole's funeral. Waterman was married four times: To Penny Dixon (1967 to 1976), Patricia Maynard (1977 to 1987), an actress with whom he had two daughters, one of whom, Hannah Waterman, is also an actress, Rula Lenska (1987 to 1998 having first met when she appear on Minder) and Pam Flint (from 2011). Waterman's marriage to Lenska ended, reportedly, because of his violent behaviour towards her. In March 2012 he caused controversy with some comments on this issue: 'It's not difficult for a woman to make a man hit her. She certainly wasn't a beaten wife, she was hit and that's different.' The interview was broadcast on oily twat Piers Morgan's Life Stories in May 2012. His autobiography, ReMinder - co-written with Jill Arlkon - was published in 2000.

The Triple Pillar Of The World Transformed Into A Strumpet's Fool

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It is not often, dear blog reader, that yer actual Keith Telly Topping get to say 'I told you so.' On any subject. But, when this blogger appeared on the legend that is Alfie Joey's BBC radio show on 2 April and was asked about whom he believed would be the next Doctor, his reply was: 'I don't think the next Doctor is going to be white, I'm pretty sure the next Doctor is going to be a man ... if it is, it'll be an actor of colour, it'll be either a British-Asian or a British Afro-Caribbean actor.' So, ahem, 'I told you so!' There, that didn't hurt too much, did it? What can this blogger say, dear blog reader? He does predictions on sporting events too. The next Grand National will be won by a horse; the forthcoming Monaco Grand Prix will be won by someone driving a car. Et cetera.
Soon-to-be-outgoing Doctor, yer actual Jodie Whittaker, is said to be 'so happy' about the identity of the actor set to replace her. This is according to Russell Davies (who knows both of them quite well). The returning Doctor Who showrunner spoke to BBC News just hours after Ncuti Gatwa was announced as the new Doctor and revealed that he had talked to Whittaker about the then-forthcoming announcement. Speaking on the BAFTA red carpet, Big Rusty was asked about what's to come after Whittaker's exit: 'We're not giving anything away yet, Jodie's still The Doctor. We love Jodie, we spoke to her yesterday. She's so happy about this, but we're going to keep quiet. It's all going to happen in 2023.' He described Whittaker's last episode as 'beyond epic' and a 'ten-year-old's fantasy version of Doctor Who but with muscle and punches of light and colour.' He also confirmed that Whittaker's finale will be a ninety minute episode
Of course, sadly, not everyone was as a happy as Jodie is reported to be at the casting of Ncuti. Fictional Alien Time Travellers Can't Be Black, Insist Morons was the News Thump take on a brief, but horrifying, series of outbursts from people who claim to be Doctor Who fans and who are, in theory, old enough not to be hideous bigotted twats. In theory being the operative phrase, here. Often, satire speaks the truth better than facts. Of course, such nonsense isn't new or, indeed, confined to the lead character but, seriously dear blog reader, it's 2022. Do we have to put up with scumbag racially-motivated shit like this?
While some Doctor Who fans thought they were certain about whom the next Doctor would be - including several who claimed to have an inside 'source' on the casting process - almost nobody predicted it would be Ncuti Gatwa. Much to the delight of Big Rusty who revealed that he planted 'a couple of misleading things' about the next Doctor's identity on the Interweb to 'throw fan speculators off the scent.' Speaking to the press at the BAFTAs, Russell said that he'd kept Gatwa's casting news under wraps for three months. 'None of you even guessed,' Russell said. '[Ncuti]'s so brilliant and so popular, he wasn't even guessed, so I'm feeling a little bit victorious here.' He continued: 'There's been a few false stories and false tales and we placed a few posts ourselves, a couple of misleading things and we're very pleased that kind of worked.' However, Davies clarified that the rumour odious, unfunny bucket of lard James Corden might be taking on the role wasn't one of his, adding: 'We didn't plant that one.' While Rusty did not expand on which names he had planted in the press, a number of actors previously associated with the award-winning screenwriter were rumoured to be Jodie Whittaker's replacement, including Years & Years star T'Nia Miller, It's A Sin's Olly Alexander as well as The Fugitive Doctor, Jo Martin.
Of course the casting of a new Doctor, inevitably, brought a massive media blitz. Consider, dear blog reader, some of the following: Ncuti Gatwa: The Scottish-Rwandan Roots Of The Fourteenth Doctor Who from the BBC Scotland. Whom, one hoped, would have done enough research to know that a) he's not the fourteenth Doctor (he's at least the eighteenth actor to play the role on television) and b) the character is called The Doctor, the programme (a popular, long-running family SF drama, you might've heard of it) is called Doctor Who. Does anyone else remember when the BBC, like the Radio Times, used to be staffed by adults? The Gruniad Morning Star's James Cooray Smith wrote a decent opinion piece entitled Why Ncuti Gatwa Is An Inspired Choice For Doctor Who Fans (because, obviously, James asked all of them), whilst his colleague, Zoe Williams, suggested Ncuti Gatwa Will Make Doctor Who New & Exciting Again - Just Like Jodie Whittaker Did. The Gruniad's fellow Middle Class hippy Communists at the Independent were also on spiky form, Lola Christina Alao's Spare Me The White Feminism, Ncuti Gatwa Deserves To Be Doctor Who Star being a splendid example of slapping down dissent from vegan quiche-eaters over another sex change for The Doctor. (Just to be clear, this blogger, as From The North's regular dear blog readers will know, has no problem whatsoever with The Doctor being male, female, black, white, gay, straight, bi-curious et cetera. All of The Doctor's have been great, in this blogger's opinion. Expect for Colin Baker. Who wasn't.) At the Torygraph, Michael Hogan suggested The Choice Of Ncuti Gatwa Proves The BBC Has Given Up Trying To Please 'Legacy'Doctor Who Fans. Which may well be true but, it's arguable, that's been an - entirely justified - policy of the production which has been on-going since 2005. The Sun's Danni Scott, meanwhile, using as few words with more than two syllables as possible, went with Who Is Ncuti Gatwa? Err... he's an actor, Danni. Quite popular with Young People, apparently (this blogger, who is not Young People, can't claim to be an expert on his previous work but is very much looking forward to acquainting himself with Ncuti's oeuvre). The Daily Scum Mail claimed an 'exclusive' with 'We Are VERY Proud Of Him!': New Doctor Who Ncuti Gatwa's Father - Who Brought His Family To Britain To Flee Rwandan Genocide - Tells Of His Joy At Sex Education Actor Being Named As Fourteenth Time Lord. Pausing, once again, to note that the character is called The Doctor and Ncuti is not the fourteenth actor to play him (or her) on television. And, whilst the article itself appears to be completely respectful, one just knows that at least a portion of the Scum Mail's odious right-wing readership will be reading it over their full English breakfast muttering 'bloody Asylum Seekers, they come over here, they take our National Icons ...' Something, the News Thump was quick to parody with New Doctor Who Plot Line To See Doctor Deported By Priti Patel. It'd be funny, dear blog reader, if it wasn't so painfully near the truth. The Week's Ncuti Gatwa: 'Stratospheric Rise' From Couch-Surfer To Doctor Whois worth a read, however. As are the New Statesman's Together, Ncuti Gatwa & Russell T Davies Can Make Doctor Who A Show For Brits To Be Proud Of (what, you mean it wasn't already?), Far Out magazine's Why Ncuti Gatwa Is A Godsend For The Series and the Dumbarton & Vale Of Leven Reporter's New Doctor Who Star Ncuti Gatwa Can 'Finally Breathe' for an interesting local angle.
Dear blog readers may also like to check out coverage of Ncuti's casting announcement in media organs as diverse as USA Today, Radio Times, Radio Times again, the Digital Spy website, Metro, PopBuzz, Prestige Hong Kong, SaltWire, Hunter Valley News, Winona Daily News, Le Monde (it helps if you speak French, obviously), El Mundo (it helps if you speak Spanish), AD (it helps if you speak Dutch), Spiegel (it helps if you speak German), Liputan 6 (it helps if you speak Indonesian), the BuzzFeed website (it helps if you speak 'youf'), Nerdevil (it helps if you speak Italian), Deadline, Zentraplus (all of those who are now thoroughly bored with this running joke, please raise your hand), the Daily Record, the Den Of Geek website, the Bismarck Tribune, O Vicio (okay, you can all put your hands down, now) and Entertainment Weekly. Ncuti was also, obviously, interviewed by the Beeb and comes over as ... adorable, frankly.
Meanwhile, here's what the more sensible parts of Doctor Who fandom had to say on the subject.
Of course, there is also the - how shall we put this? - non-sensible part of Doctor Who fandom. Most of them extremely active on Twitter and a particularly well-known fan forum, these days known by those who used to frequent it as T'Dark Place. What was going on there in the hours immediately after the announcement of Ncuti's casting, you may be wondering? Well it was, genuinely, a sight to see, dear blog readers. According to at least one glake of, one imagines, somewhat diminished responsibility, Ncuti Gatwa was only announced as the next Doctor in order to 'hide the fact that it's really David Tennant' returning to the role. He's really really, really going to be in it because some podcasters say so and, therefore, it must be true. 'JUST WAIT UNTIL JODIE DEGENERATES INTO DT IN OCTOBER!!!' As conspiracy theories go, this one is right up there with NASA having faked the Moon landings and Elvis being alive and well and living in Kick-Ass Nebraska. The theory - the Doctor Who conspiracy theory, that is, not that Elvis Faked His Own Death - states that the Ncuti casting announcement is 'all a ruse to keep Tennant's return secret because that's the real story.' (Once again, this blogger feels compelled to state what should be bleedin' obviously to even the most challenged of brains - it is perfectly possible that David will be making an appearance in next year's Sixtieth Anniversary Special (along with, perhaps, some of the other living Doctors); but the chances of him returning to the production in anything more than a one-off guest-slot remain what they've always been, jolly unlikely. The 'proof' of Tennant's return, according to the conspiracy theorists, is that Russell did not, specifically, refer to Ncuti as the fourteenth Doctor. Though, given the fact that he's - at least - the eighteenth, that was probably understandable. Doctor Who fandom, dear blog reader; it's an odd, bewildering, sometimes dangerous, but always entertainingly bonkers place. It is, on the one hand, full of creative, passionate, amazing and mostly harmless individuals. As this blogger has noted previously, these are my people and this blogger won't have a word said against them. Except that, sadly, Doctor Who fandom also contains more than a few twenty four-carat heedbangers. Which is something far less worth celebrating than all of the good stuff fandom has produced.
Just over a year ago, the Screen Rant website published a lengthy article Every Actor Almost Cast As Doctor Who (and, again, the character is called The Doctor! Listen, it's a very easy thing to get right). Which, whilst mostly based on first-hand claims from many of those alluded to in the article, still manages to miss a few (Jim Dale and Ron Moody - again - in 1974, Tony Robinson in 1987, Anthony Head in 1996, Chiwetel Ejiofor in 2010) and also includes a couple of somewhat dubious claims. But it's a, recommended, fun and fascinating read.
The Lord Thy God Steven Moffat (OBE) has been interviewed this week by the Hollywood Reporter's TV's Top Five podcast, discussing Doctor Who, Sherlock and his forthcoming adaptation of The Time Traveler's [sic] Wife. And, as usual, Steven if on terrific form. 
Hot Fuzz, Last Night In Soho and The Sparks Brothers filmmaker and From The North favourite Edgar Wright has reacted to fan speculation that he could be involved in the next series of Doctor Who. The director shared a series of alleged 'clues' on social media in the days after it was announced that Ncuti Gatwa had joined the BBC's popular long-running family SF drama. On Tuesday, Wright shared a photographed of a blue door with a 'wet paint' sign affixed to it, 'strongly resembling' the door of the TARDIS (at least, according to some Middle Class hippy Communist twonk at the Independent). Another post depicted a pattern of hexagons, allegedly 'resembling the TARDIS's interior.' A third alleged 'clue', showed a diamond chandelier - the connection to Doctor Who onew that even the Indi didn't try to speculate upon. As a result, followers claimed that Edgar was 'cryptically teasing' his impending involvement in the franchise. The fact that the BBC couldn't afford to hire an award-winning director of motion pictures, notwithstanding. However, Edgar seemed to refute the suggestion on Twitter, responding to an article which claimed that he 'could be the latest glitzy addition to the next series of the iconic sci-fi show.''Untrue!' he posted in response. No shit? However, some fans - possibly the same ones that still believe David Tennant will really be the next Doctor (see above) - just aren't having it and have suggested that Edgar's response 'could', in fact, be deliberately misleading, highlighting the use of the phrase 'next series' in the tweet he was disputing. 'It's untrue because the Sixtieth Anniversary Special doesn't count as "the next series"' one brain-damaged moron (or, the victim of a cruel medical experiment) wrote, in seeming desperation. The true meaning of Edgar's Instagram posts remains unclear at the time of writing, though is likely to be divulged eventually. Time will tell, dear blog reader. As a popular, long-running Gallifreyan once noted, 'it usually does.'
Fans of Life On Mars - and, this blogger was, very much, one - will be delighted to know that co-creators Matthew Graham and Ashley Pharoah have completed work on the pilot for a sequel series, Lazarus. Graham announced this on Twitter. Like Life On Mars and Ashes To Ashes, Lazarus is named after a David Bowie song. You knew that, right? Though there is currently nothing officially in place, if the drama is given a green light, Lazarus would aim to tie up the story and bring the franchise to a close. As for John Simm and Philip Glenister, both have expressed interest in returning to their roles as Sam Tyler and Gene Hunt, respectively.
A North East church was transformed into a film set almost overnight for the filming of the hit-series, From The North favourite Vera. Towering above Newcastle, St Michael's Roman Catholic Church became the latest filming location as cast and crew of the ITV crime drama were spotted filming on Wednesday according to the Northern Echo. Film trucks and catering vehicles were spotted around the church on Westmorland Road. 
The latest preview disc from the US arrived at The Stately Telly Topping Manor Plague House this week. Strange New Worlds: Children Of The Comet was proper old-school Star Trek'episode of the week'-type malarkey with nice characterisation and some sharp and witty humour in unexpected places.
The Man Who Fell To Earth: New Angels Of Promise was pretty astonishing. 'The stars look very different ... from here!' Yeah, three episodes in and it's still working. This blogger loved the recreation of Thomas Newton's CIA torture from the movie (Bill Nighy's got Bowie's voice down to perfection). Rob Delaney was also great in it. And, it's funny too, that was completely unexpected.
Anyone worried that From The North favourites Mark Kermode and Simon Mayo's move from the BBC to the commercial sector may have dampened their fire will, hopefully, have been reassured by the opening two episodes of Kermode & Mayo's Take podcast. And, in particular, Mark's wonderfully amusing review of Doctor Strange In The Multiverse Of Madness (notably, his 'audio-description' of the scene they'd been sent which included almost no dialogue).
The very excellent Jan Fennick's Wanting To Feel, To Know What Is Real, is a properly superb article on one of this blogger's favourite movies, Head which can be read on the We Are Cult website. Can you dig it, dear blog reader?
Another article you really need to have a leisurely gander at, dear blog reader, is Entertainment Weekly's interview with From The North favourite Neil Gaiman and Tom Sturridghe about the forthcoming adaptation of From The North favourite The Sandman. 'I think I have personally seen fifteen hundred Morpheus auditions,' Gaiman told EW. 'I hesitate to imagine how many [casting director] Lucinda Syson and her team have seen.' Gaiman gave Sturridge an important piece of advice early on in the production, to help distinguish his performance from another comic book icon. 'I growled at him once and said, "stop being Batman,"' Neil said. 'He was trying to get a bit whispery.''It was, literally, my first day!' Sturridge added. 'But it was incredibly helpful.'
And so, dear blog reader, we come to that regular part of the blog dedicated to this blogger's - much-whinged-about - on-going medical issues. For those who haven't been following the on-going saga which seems to have been on-going longer than The Sky At Night: This blogger spent several weeks feeling proper poorly for reasons no medical professional seemed able to discover; he got worse and spent a week in hospital; he was discharged; he had some - really painful - injections; then even more injections (equally painful); he recovered - somewhat - his previously missing-in-action appetite; he got a diagnosis; he had a meeting with his consultant; he told everyone that he was still suffering from fatigue and insomnia; he endured a second endoscopy and had another consultation with the excellent Doctor Nasir.
And then, on top of all that, he got toothache. The filling which this blogger had to his damaged back left molar last Thursday (mentioned in a previous From The North update) seemingly didn't work and this blogger spent the entire weekend in quite a bit of pain. No, actually, amend that, quite a lot of pain. Fishing for sympathy here, dear blog reader. (Keith Telly Topping takes it as a sign of absolute professional pride that he managed to compile not one but twoFrom The North updates under such trying circumstances.)
This blogger, therefore, rang up his dental practitioner first thing on Monday morning - having taken the precaution of not watching his DVD copy of Marathon Man the night before. Stressing the urgency of getting another appointment, he was delighted that they could fit him in that very day at 12.30 (2.30 would, admittedly, have been far more appropriate). This blogger saw, as usual, the very excellent Doctor Megha would said 'oh, you're back again?' Fantastically observant, this blogger thought. That's the sort of observational skills which makes for a great dentist. This blogger explained that he'd spent the previous three-and-a-bit days in excruciating fuggin' agony and we decided it was probably best for all concerned - but, especially, for this blogger - to extract the bothersome tooth. Forthwith, if not sooner. It was, in fact, the first extraction Keith Telly Topping has had in the best part of twenty years (when his then-dentist was Neil Young - true story).
So, this blogger - who isn't very good with needles at the best of times - received all of three injections into his mouth and then, when he was feeling as numb as an extremely numb thing, Doctor Megha revealed her dentistry tools - all of them. Specifically, The Poker, The Scraper, The Gouger and The Ripper.
The ghastly process, in fact, thankfully didn't take very long and it was, indeed, relatively painless as promised. Plus, it gave this blogger's mouth a useful symmetry since the back molar on the right side was the one Neil Young (I know, I know, but it's true, swear-to-God) removed back in 2004. This blogger remained - not entirely unpleasantly - numb for the next three hours until the novocaine wore off, at which point his mouth started hurting like jimbuggery. But the bleeding had stopped quite quickly, so that was a bonus as this blogger no longer resembled a vampire with a slightly lop-sided gob. In fact, he looked, rather appealingly, like a stroke victim.
Of course, that wasn't even close to being the end of the story, dear blog reader. You guessed that, right? Having suffered through Monday, this blogger had a horrible night with the tossing an' the turning and with him getting virtually no sleep (his third such night in a row). And, this blogger couldn't even blame this on the insomnia he's been suffering from of late, it was the pain from the extracted tooth wot done it. The painkillers which this blogger took before bed (and, topped up at some obscure hour of the early morning) finally started to kick in around 4am and this blogger managed a couple of hours somewhat fitful sleep before the sun came up. The rest of the day wasn't much better, either - with pain medication just barely taking the edge off the nagging throb in this blogger's mush.
Things did improve, marginally, on Wednesday - again, mainly thanks to the Tramadol®™ and Ibuprofen®™ this blogger was guzzling like Smarties®™. That said, there were still a couple of occasions where a wave of pain would flood over this blogger bringing him out in the kind of cold sweat that James Brown used to specialise in.
To matters unrelated to Keith Telly Topping's hypochondria, now. England have appointed former New Zealand captain Brendon McCullum as their test coach on a four-year deal. McCullum will be in place for England's first test against New Zealand at Lord's on 2 June. He succeeds Chris Silverwood, who left his position in February following the heavy Ashes defeat in Australia. McCullum said that he is aiming to 'move the team forward into a more successful era' alongside new captain Ben Stokes. He added: 'In taking this role on, I am acutely aware of the significant challenges the team faces at present, and I strongly believe in my ability to help the team emerge as a stronger force once we've confronted them head-on.' England are winless in nine tests and have only one won of their past seventeen matches. McCullum's appointment continues England's post-Ashes overhaul, with Rob Key having taken over as Managing Director last month, replacing Andrew Strauss, who had stepped in on an interim basis following the sacking of Ashley Giles in February. Joe Root stood down as captain following March's series defeat in the West Indies and was replaced by Stokes. The England and Wales Cricket Board selection panel of Key, strategic adviser Strauss, chief executive Tom Harrison and performance director Mo Bobat said that McCullum was the 'outstanding candidate' for the role. 'I've enjoyed several robust conversations with Rob Key about the direction of travel for the team and have found his enthusiasm contagious,' added McCullum. 'I'm no stranger to bringing about change within a team environment and I can't wait to get started. Ben Stokes is the perfect character to inspire change around him, and I look forward to working closely with him to build a successful unit around us.' McCullum, who retired from playing in 2019, has never coached in first-class cricket, but played one hundred and one tests for New Zealand from 2004 to 2016 and was widely admired across the world of cricket for his enterprising captaincy and powerful batting. He is currently head coach of Indian Premier League franchise Kolkata Knight Riders and previously coached Trinbago Knight Riders to the 2020 Caribbean Premier League title. Kolkata are likely to go out of the IPL next Wednesday after their two remaining group games and McCullum is set to arrive in the UK later this month. The squad for the first Test against New Zealand will to be chosen next week. In looking for Silverwood's successor, Key split the England head coach position into Test and white-ball roles. McCullum, a close friend of England limited-overs captain Eoin Morgan, was initially approached over the white-ball post but has secured the test job ahead of former South Africa and India coach Gary Kirsten, who was thought to be favourite for the position. 'It has been a real privilege to get to know Brendon and understand his views and vision for the game,' said Key. 'He has a recent history of changing cricket culture and environments for the better and I believe he is the person to do that for England's red-ball cricket. I believe in Brendon and Ben Stokes - a formidable coach and captain partnership. Time for us all to buckle up and get ready for the ride.' After three tests against New Zealand, England face India in the rescheduled fifth test in July before a three tests series against South Africa in August and September. McCullum captained New Zealand in thirty one tests, sixty two one-day internationals and twenty eight Twenty20 internationals, leading them to the 2015 fifty-over World Cup final, where they were beaten by Australia. His spell as Black Caps test captain started a resurgence which eventually saw them win the World Test Championship last year under his successor, Kane Williamson. The wicketkeeper-batter scored over six thousand runs at an average of 38.64, with twelve hundreds - including the fastest test century of all time, off just fifty four balls against Australia in 2016. England are not as close to naming the new white-ball coach, with candidates likely to be interviewed again next week before the first engagement of the summer, a three-match one-day series in the Netherlands, begins on 17 June.
This, dear blog reader, is the gargantuan black hole that lives at the centre of our galaxy, pictured for the very first time. Known as Sagittarius A*, the object is a staggering four million times the mass of our Sun. What you see is a central dark region where the hole resides, circled by the light coming from super-heated gas accelerated by immense gravitational forces. For scale, the ring is roughly the size of Mercury's orbit around our star. That's about sixty million kilometres across. Fortunately, this monster is a long, long way away - some twenty six thousand light-years in the distance - so there's no possibility of us ever coming to any danger from it. The image was produced by an international team called the Event Horizon Telescope collaboration. It is their second such image after releasing in 2019 a picture of the giant black hole at the heart of another galaxy called Messier 87. That object was more than a thousand times bigger at six-and-a-half billion times the mass of our Sun placiung it, squarely, in the effing enormous column. 'But this new image is special because it's our supermassive black hole,' said Professor Heino Falcke, one of the European pioneers behind the EHT project. 'This is in "our backyard" and if you want to understand black holes and how they work, this is the one that will tell you because we see it in intricate detail,' the German-Dutch scientist from Radboud University Nijmegen toldBBC News.
The first full-scale prototype of a rocket designed for launching small satellites from a Highlands spaceport has been unveiled. Forres-based Orbex said its final version of the nineteen metre-long Prime rocket would be re-useable and powered by a renewable bio-fuel, bio-propane. The rockets will be launched from Space Hub Sutherland, which could be operational later this year. The prototype will undergo trials at a testing facility in Kinloss in Moray. A separate plan to launch satellites from a facility in Shetland has also taken a major step forward. SaxaVord UK Spaceport and US-based Astra Space have agreed to collaborate on a planned programme of launches from a site on Unst. The spaceport secured planning permission earlier this year. Astra Space has already completed its first commercial rocket launch from Kodiak in Alaska. Launches from SaxaVord could start next year, subject to agreements and regulatory approvals. Orbex, which has manufacturing sites in the UK and Denmark, plans to launch micro satellites from Space Hub Sutherland, near Tongue.
Mad scientists have grown plants in lunar soil for the first time, an important step towards making long-term stays on the Moon possible. Researchers used small samples of dust collected during the 1969 to 1972 Apollo missions to grow a type of cress. Much to their surprise, the seeds sprouted after two days. 'I can't tell you how astonished we were,' said Anna-Lisa Paul, a University of Florida professor who co-authored a paper on the findings. 'Every plant - whether in a lunar sample or in a control - looked the same up until about day six.' After that, differences emerged. The plants grown in Moon soil started to show stress, developed more slowly and ended up stunted. What the plants actually taste like is not known at this time ... although, given that cress tastes like the ground anyway, there may not be much difference. But, those involved say it is a breakthrough and one that has Earthly implications. 'This research is critical to NASA's long-term human exploration goals as we'll need to use resources found on the Moon and Mars to develop food sources for future astronauts living and operating in deep space,' said NASA chief Bill Nelson. 'This fundamental plant growth research is also a key example of how NASA is working to unlock agricultural innovations that could help us understand how plants might overcome 'stressful conditions' in food-scarce areas here on Earth.'
It was an experiment that saved hundreds of lives and changed the way the world communicates. On 13 May 1897, Guglielmo Marconi sent the world's first radio message across open water and he did it whilst visiting a seaside resort in Somerset. Marconi came to Weston-super-Mare looking to experiment with what he called 'telegraphy without wires.' He was initially interested in contacting ships, but his work led to a communications revolution. It paved the way for the radio and television broadcasts that we take for granted today. In 1896, Marconi came to the UK to conduct his experiments after trying - and failing - to gain interest in his work from the Italians. His assistant, George Kemp, was from Cardiff and suggested the Bristol Channel would be the perfect place to test it out. On 11 and 12 May Marconi's team placed a transmitter on Flat Holm, an island halfway across the Channel and began sending messages into the airwaves. Their initial attempts were a failure, with the team member in Lavernock waiting for a non-existent signal. Then on 13 May, Marconi sent a message of 'CAN YOU HEAR ME?' which was received loud and clear. Immediately, the team travelled back to Brean Down Fort, just South of Weston-super-Mare and set up again. A further message was sent a distance of nearly ten miles - a record at the time. 'Before Marconi, you had to use telegraph wires to contact people but with radio you could contact ships instantly,' said Dave Dyer, chairman of the Weston-super-Mare Radio Society. 'Take the Titanic for instance, which sent a distress call out, it saved so many lives at sea.' During the ship's sinking, wireless operator Jack Phillips sent out a 'CQD' message to ships nearby - a precursor to the 'SOS' signal now used. Philips, a Marconi Company employee, went down with the ship as he continued to broadcast and died in the disaster. Britain's Postmaster General, then Herbert Samuel, said: 'Those who have been saved, have been saved through one man, Mister Marconi and his marvellous invention.' The wireless became the only way for survivors on board the RMS Carpathia to contact their families. Since messages were charged per word, one simply read 'Safe, Bert.' In an ironic twist, Marconi narrowly avoided travelling on that fatal voyage - he was offered a free ticket for the Titanic but took the Lusitania three days earlier. Two months after his Weston experiments, Marconi set up the Wireless Telegraph & Signal Company Ltd, which was one of the six founders of the British Broadcasting Company in 1922. Its first London station was 2LO and was broadcast from Marconi House, the headquarters of Marconi's company. 'The idea of broadcasting was big in America and people were clamouring for it here,' said Neil Wilson from the Radio Museum in Watchet. 'It was absolutely incredible - other than playing a gramophone record you couldn't hear music or speech from elsewhere.' Marconi's radios were designed to appeal to the mass-market, rather than to wireless amateurs who built complicated sets themselves. 'It became more of a pastime for the whole family. You could hear news reports from all over the country, without waiting for a newspaper, it was so revolutionary,' Wilson added.
Now extremely former President (and hairdo) Mister Rump must pay a one hundred and ten thousand bucks fine to the New York state attorney and meet other conditions to purge a contempt of court order for his failure to comply with a subpoena in a civil investigation into his business practices, a judge said on Wednesday. The judge, Arthur Engoron, told a virtual hearing a ten thousand dollars-per-day fine imposed on the now extremely former President in late April stopped accruing on Friday, when Rump and his lawyers filed new affidavits detailing steps they claim they took to find documents relevant to the investigation by Letitia James, the New York attorney general. One or two people even believed them. Rump has stated he does not have any relevant files, a claim Engoron said last month he found 'surprising.' For which read 'a bare-faced lie.' Probably. The judge gave Trump until 20 May to comply with additional conditions, which include submitting affidavits from his personal assistant and others familiar with his record-keeping practices and the completion of a report by a third-party firm hired to search Rump Organization records. The contempt order could be restored if those conditions are not met, Engoron said. James has said that her investigation has turned up evidence that the Rump Organization - which manages hotels, golf courses and other real estate around the world - has given banks and tax authorities 'misleading financing information' in order to obtain financial benefits such as favorable loans and tax breaks. Rump denies wrongdoing and calls the investigation politically motivated. Although, to paraphrase the late - and much-missed - Mandy Rice-Davies, 'well he would, wouldn't he?'
Adidas sports bra adverts which featured photographs of bare-naked breasts have, reportedly, been banned for 'showing explicit nudity.' Images of the titties of dozens of women of various skin colours, shapes and sizes in a grid format appeared on a tweet and two posters. The Advertising Standards Agency - who clearly have some sort of collective repression issues - found all three versions 'likely to cause widespread offence.' To cretins. Adidas said the adverts 'show just how diverse breasts are' and therefore how 'important' the correct sports bra is. A spokesperson for Adidas UK said it 'stood proudly' behind the message which it continued to display on its website. The advertising watchdog received twenty four complaints - from cretins - that the advert's use of nudity was gratuitous and objectified women by sexualising them and 'reducing them to body parts.' Some people had contacted them asking whether the posters were appropriate to be on display where they could be seen by children. You know, the people for whom breasts were specifically designed. Twitter also said the post had been reported by some - repressed, trouble-making - users but was not found to be in breach of its terms of service. The ASA said it did not think the way the women were portrayed in the tweet was sexually explicit or objectified them or anything even remotely like it. But it did find that the tweet was likely to be seen as explicit nudity and required careful targeting to avoid causing offence. To cretins
A week after a major restaurant, bar and leisure complex in Newcastle was evacuated there is still no word on when it will reopen. The Gate was closed on Thursday 5 May after a 'safety concern' was discovered. Owner Crown Estates said that it shut the building complex to 'carry out further testing of the internal mechanisms that prevent the spread of a fire.' Crown Estates refused to give any more details. Tyne and Wear Fire and Rescue Service said it had not been contacted. Newcastle City Council said it was told of 'a health and safety matter' but added that it was something Crown Estates would have to liaise with the fire service about. The fire service said the closure of The Gate was not because of an emergency or as the result of any tests it had carried out. The Health and Safety Executive also said it had 'not had any involvement with the incident.' A spokeswoman for Crown Estates said: 'The health and safety of all those in and around our places is our utmost priority. We recognise the impact this closure will have on businesses and visitors of The Gate and apologise for the disruption.' Cineworld, which has sixteen film screens in The Gate, said it had cancelled screenings for Thursday and any tickets booked would be refunded. On social media the cinema chain said: 'We hope to be able to announce a reopening date soon and in the meantime thank you for your patience and understanding and apologise for any inconvenience caused by the closure.' 
The families of naughty teenagers behind a 'wrecking spree' - when a shopping trolley was thrown at a train and an ambulance attacked - have been served with legal warnings. North Tyneside Council and Northumbria Police earlier visited ten rented properties in The Meadow Well and Waalsend linked to recent despicable anti-social behaviour. Parents of the rascals involved, aged thirteen to sixteen, were told they could face eviction from their gaffs over the nefarious skullduggery of their scallywag bairns. The parents have been served with warnings, with three households receiving a 'notice-seeking possession' - effectively a final warning for a tenant before eviction proceedings begin. The anti-social behaviour included vandalism to the roof of Riley's Fish Shack in Tynemouth, an attack on an ambulance crew at the Parks Sports Centre, North Shields and a shopping trolley being thrown at a moving Metro train earlier this month at Monkseaton, which disrupted services. Such attacks saw 'a joint project' set up between the council and police force called Operation Respect to catch the naughty perpetrators and terminate, with extreme prejudice, their rotten ways. Chief Inspector Colin Lowther, from Northumbria Police's North Tyneside Neighbourhood Policing Teams, said: 'I hope this acts as a strong warning to others - action will be taken against you if you cause anti-social behaviour that impacts the local community. North Tyneside is a great place to live and boasts fantastic community values, the majority of residents love and respect the area. Anyone found deliberately causing chaos and acting in an anti-social manner will be dealt with swiftly.' 
A North East council fears a large music festival will 'disturb residents' despite new rules limiting noise in a nearby park. Restrictions were imposed by Newcastle City Council on Exhibition Park events after the This Is Tomorrow festival attracted complaints in September. But, a council report says LooseFest, due to be held on the Town Moor in July, could 'expose residents to ten hours of repetitive bass music noise.' Being enjoyed by long-haired 'youfs' drinking their alcopops, smoking extremely potent skank and having The Sex, no doubt. The festival will have five dance music stages and a daily capacity of thirty thousand. The authority has agreed 'in principle' to allow the Freemen of Newcastle to hold the event, subject to noise and crowd dispersal plans being submitted by the organisers and approved. The Freemen's chairman David Wilson promised 'comprehensive' plans. 'We are working closely with the event promoters and the city council to ensure that this will be a fabulous event enjoyed by many people,' he said. 'We are very conscious of the need to minimise any associated effects from the event on the local community, in particular in respect of sound.' The Black Eyed Peas, Clean Bandit and Mabel (no, me neither) are among the acts due to play at the festival, which is being held on 30 and 31 July. The city council recently imposed restrictions on events in neighbouring Exhibition Park, including limiting music levels to 'no more than five decibels above existing background noise' and ending performances and the sale of alcohol at 10:30pm. A spokesman told the Local Democracy Reporting Service LooseFest's licence would 'be different, however we meet regularly with the event organisers who are aware of the noise restrictions.' A smaller three-day festival - the Rock n Roll Circus - is due to be held on The Moor next month and is expected to feature performers including Noel Gallagher's High Flying Birds and Years & Years.
A driver who failed to heed signs warning of road resurfacing forced workers to tarmac around a parked car. Notices were, reportedly, put up on Huntley Street in Darlington alerting motorists to the road closure which was in effect on Monday and Tuesday. But the BMW owner clearly did not get the message and the vehicle was left outlined with fresh asphalt. Mind you, this is Darlo so, frankly, nothing should really surprise us. Darlington Council said that the work would be remedied 'but it will mean an extra cost' to the local authority. Traffic cones and signs had been erected to notify drivers there would be no parking and the road would be closed for two days. Residents say the street, which is close to Darlington railway station, is often used by commuters catching a train.
Hotels on the official list of recommended accommodation for the 2022 World Cup in Qatar are required to welcome guests in a 'non-discriminatory manner' or face termination of contracts, FIFA has said. A Scandinavian media survey showed that three of the sixty nine hotels on FIFA's official list of recommended accommodation will deny entry to same-sex couples. Twenty other hotels said they would accommodate them 'as long as they did not publicly show that they were gay' and thirty three hotels had 'no problem' with booking same-sex couples. Homosexuality is illegal in Qatar, which will host the World Cup from 21 November to 18 December. FIFA said that, since being made aware of the report, it had been in touch with the Supreme Committee for Delivery & Legacy and 'will ensure that the hotels mentioned are once again made aware of our strict requirements in relation to welcoming guests in a non-discriminatory manner. Hotels, as well as any other service provider associated with the FIFA World Cup, who fail to comply with the high standards set by the organisers will have their contracts terminated. On top of that, the said requirements will continue to be reinforced in awareness-raising sessions and subsequently monitored and evaluated through audits and inspections of hotels linked to the FIFA World Cup. Qatar is fully aware of its responsibility to adhere to FIFA's expectations and requirements on human rights, equality and non-discrimination. Qatar is committed to ensuring that everyone will be able to enjoy the tournament in a safe and welcoming environment, to building bridges of cultural understanding and to creating an inclusive experience for all participants, attendees and local communities, including from the LGBTQI+ community.'
This week has seen the opening rounds of the so-called 'Wagatha Chrstie' trial. And, it's been sodding hilarious. Both the revelations in court and the press's coverage of the case. The high court, for example, heard that Rebekah Vardy 'deeply regretted' agreeing to sell a story to the Scum Of The World about her one-night stand with Peter Andre in 2004. The original article included alleged descriptions of the entertainer's sexual performance and comparisons of the size of his penis to a chipolata sausage. Vardy, claimed that she was 'was very young at the time' and had not had any further contact with Andre. 'I haven't spoken to him but I have sent his wife and him messages a couple of years ago.' Vardy claimed she was 'forced' to sell the story to the disgraced and disgraceful Scum Of The World by her ex-husband, Stephen Clarke. Clarke has always strongly denied forcing his ex-wife to sell the story and won a complaint on this matter with the press regulator IPSO when the accusation was first published in 2017. Vardy is attempting to clear her name by bringing the multimillion-pound libel case against Coleen Rooney after Rooney alleged that Vardy leaked information from a private Instagram account to journalists at the Sun. Vardy was previously accused of throwing her former agent and best friend Caroline Watt 'under a bus' in a last-ditch attempt to shift the blame and save her case. Vardy has suggested that Watt 'may' have been leaking stories from Rooney's private Instagram account to the Sun without her knowledge. Under questioning from her own barrister, Hugh Tomlinson QC, Vardy claimed she gave Watt the password to her personal Instagram account when Vardy appeared on I'm A Z-List Former Celebrity Desperate To Get My Boat-Race Back On TV ... Please Vote For Me To Stay Here As Long As Possible (I'll Even Eat Worms If You Want) in 2017. She also confirmed that she discussed posts on Rooney's private Instagram accounts with her agent in the knowledge that her agent was talking to journalists at the Sun about Rooney's private life. However, Vardy insisted this was not evidence that she was actively trying to leak information on Rooney to the Sun.
Now, dear blog readers, the From The North Headline Of The Week award. And we begin with the latest effort from the Sunday Sport - which, to be honest, this blogger thought had shut down years ago.
This blogger's thanks go to his old mate Nick Cooper for pointing him in the direction of the BBC News website's Woman Finds Three-Inch Leech In Nose After South East Asia Trip. And, for observing that she clearly got that idea for a specific episode of The X-Files.
My London News's North West London 'River Of Death' Smells So Bad It Makes Locals Throw Up deserves its nomination, despite it being factually inaccurate as it's not, actually, called The River Of Death. And, it's a brook, not a river. But, apart from that ...
The Romford Recorder's magnificent House Fire Started By A Squirrel Disrupts Funeral Procession Through Romford has pretty much everything you'd wish for in a Headline Of The Week nominee. Particularly, squirrels.
Meanwhile,Lincolnshire Live's New Static Caravans On Lincolnshire Former Golf Course 'Not Welcome' features the politest way of saying 'get orf moi laaaand' imaginable. With the implication that those occupying the New Static Caravans mentioned in the headline may well be, you know, Johnny Foreigners. Who smell.
This week's award winner, however, is the Derby Telegraph for the eye-wateringly brilliant Derby Man Freezes Dead Owl In Row With Property Developer.
And finally, dear blog reader, Brazilian defender Marcelo has rubbished reports that he was dropped by his former club, Lyon, for laughing and breaking wind. The thirty four-year-old centre-back - full name Marcelo Antonio Guedes Filho - left the Ligue 1 side in January, after being dropped from the senior squad. This week L'Equipe claimed that the reason for his departure followed a string of disciplinary issues, including inappropriate laughing during team talks and repeatedly farting in front of team-mates. 'Thanks to L'Equipe, after a long time, I have come back to Twitter to deny all the allegations,' Marcelo wrote on the social media platform, adding: 'Journalism nowadays is a joke!' It was his first tweet since May last year. It was not the first time there have been stories about the player's alleged attitude. In August last year, ESPN reported that he had been expelled from the senior Lyon team after he was caught laughing during captain Leo Dubois' post-match speech, following a heavy defeat by Angers, in which Marcelo himself scored an own goal. After training with Lyon's reserves, Marcelo was moved on to Bordeaux in January. His new club are currently bottom of Ligue 1. In June 2016, Adam Lindin Ljungkvist of the Swedish club Pershagen SK received two yellow cards, and finally a red, reportedly when he broke wind, loudly, during a match. The referee called Adam's flatulence 'unsportsmanlike' and, according to Adam, thought he was farting in an untoward manner. 'Every time I pushed my body I had to fart a little bit. It was one of those days,' Adam noted at the time. 'I don't really care about farting - everyone does it, it's a normal thing. But there's always going to be someone who doesn't like it.'

Time Is The Wisest Counsellor Of All

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Forthcoming DoctorNcuti Gatwa has had, it is probably fair to say, a right rip-roaring rollercoaster of a week, being announced as The Doctor on Sunday before facing the world's media at the BAFTA Awards. The actor has, reportedly, been inundated with congratulations ever since the announcement. Ncuti, who admitted that he had to keep his casting a secret since winning the role in February, has also been receiving messages of support from former cast members of the BBC's popular long-running family SF drama, including Sylvester McCoy. Taking to Instagram, Ncuti made a short video thanking Sylv for his good wishes and extending his gratitude to everyone from the Doctor Who community who had been in touch to congratulate him. 'Sylvester McCoy, thank you so much for your beautiful message. It means the absolute world - especially coming from a fellow Scot! I am so looking forward to facing all of those foes, especially the last one you mentioned - and the support from you and all the other Doctors has filled me with the strength that I will be able to do that.' He added: 'Thank you so much for welcoming me into the family.' In a separate post, Ncuti thanked the current Doctor, Jodie Whittaker and another predecessor David Tennant, for their kindness on the evening of the BAFTAs. 'The Doctor herself, Jodie Whittaker and Mister David Tennant for your beautiful words of support and encouragement on BAFTA day. I was absolutely cacking my pants and, honestly, speaking to you two was priceless.' Ncuti also extended his thanks to incoming showrunner Big Rusty Davies as well as the broader Doctor Who community. Including, one presumes, those members of fandom who aren't sick, bigoted racist scum. Which, thankfully, is most of them. 'The Doctor Who fam: Russell, all the producers and the wonderful fans have been so gracious and welcoming. I am stunned and speechless at the support.' Ncuti was also welcomed to the role by TARDIS predecessors Matt Smith and Peter Capaldi and, yet another Scot, former showrunner The Lord Thy God Steven Moffat (OBE).
Dear blog readers should be aware that the following From The North news segment may contain potential spoilers for the Sixtieth Anniversary episode of Doctor Who and should, therefore, be avoided if you're worried about such malarkey. If you're not, of course, then please read on ...
It had been rumoured for some considerable time, been the subject of much misinformation and hyperbole and had even been alluded to - a couple of times - on this very blog (here and here). Now, it has been confirmed that one of the most admired pairings in Doctor Who's history are currently filming scenes which are 'due to be broadcast in 2023 to coincide' with the BBC's popular, long-running family SF drama's 'Sixtieth Anniversary celebrations.' National heartthrob David Tennant and Catherine Tate are to return to the Doctor Who franchise, the BBC confirmed in a press release on Sunday. The Doctor and Donna Noble parted company when The Doctor had to wipe Donna's memory in order to save her life in The End Of Time (2010). He left her family with a warning: that if she ever remembered her time spent travelling in the TARDIS, she would die. Horribly. So, what could possibly bring The Doctor and Donna back together? Russell Davies commented: 'They're back! And it looks impossible - first, we announce a new Doctor and then an old Doctor, along with the wonderful Donna, what on Earth is happening?' Good question, Big Rusty. One deserving a good answer. Then, he provided one. Sort of: 'Maybe this is a missing story. Or a parallel world. Or a dream, or a trick, or a flashback. The only thing I can confirm is that it's going to be spectacular, as two of our greatest stars reunite for the battle of a lifetime.' The return of Tennant for the Sixtieth Anniversary episode was always on the cards, of course, given David's previous participation in 2013's acclaimed The Day Of The Doctor episode. Cat's return is more of a surprise although, given her extremely popular partnership with David's Doctor, it's hardly an unwelcome one. This blogger expects that at least one more former Doctor may well be added to the cast of the special (indeed, rumours are already circulating concerning Matt Smith's possible participation). Tennant and Tate's 2008 series of Doctor Who was the most successful that the popular, long-running family SF drama had following its revival in 2005, with an average overnight audience of more than eight million viewers per episode and the series finale, Journey's End, watched by a consolidated audience of ten-and-a-half million punters. The thirteen-episode run also enjoyed a high degree of critical acclaim and was nominated for best drama series at that year's BAFTA Awards (it lost to Wallander). Since leaving Doctor Who, Tennant has appeared in numerous TV series including Good Omens, Around The World In Eighty Days, Staged, There She Goes and Broadchurch. You know all that, right? In 2021, he won a National Television Award for playing the serial killer Dennis Nilsen in Des. Cat has appeared in sitcoms like Big School and The Office and has continued performing her, extremely irritating, Nan character - most recently in the much-lambasted The Nan Movie released earlier this year to audience indifference and a resoundingly negative reception from critics. Not undeservedly, either. But, this blogger thought she was great in Doctor Who so, don't let that horrorshow put you off.
Dear blog readers should be extremely aware that the following From The North segment also contains potential spoilers for the Doctor Who Sixtieth Anniversary episode and should, therefore, be avoided if you're bothered about such discombobulations. If you're not, then please read on ...
It was subsequently revealed that National Icon Bernard Cribbins would also be returning in the role of Donna's grandfather, Wilf. And, that he would be joined by Jacqueline King as Donna's mum and Karl Collins as her husband (both, like Bernard, last seen in The End Of Time twelve years ago). 
But, What Are David Tennant & Catherine Tate Actually Filming?. That was a question asked by both the Den Of Geek and Screen Rant websites. Both picked up on a couple of minor ambiguities in the BBC's press release announcing the return of David and Cat to the franchise which this blogger had also spotted but put down to mere clumsy sub-editing or the BBC's seeming reluctance to employ adults these days. Allow Den Of Geek to explain further: 'Note the wording: "[filming] scenes", "[to] coincide with", "celebrations" plural. Nowhere in the language does the press release explicitly confirm that Tennant and Tate will appear as guest stars in a single Sixtieth Anniversary episode alongside the new fourteenth Doctor, Ncuti Gatwa.' They add: 'When Doctor Who celebrated its Fiftieth Anniversary, it wasn't only with feature-length special The Day Of The Doctor, but also with two mini-episodes The Night Of The Doctor and The Last Day, both of which were released in the run-up to the anniversary ... Could it be that the Tenth Doctor and Donna are back to film supplemental episodes, rather than appearing in a single special? The official comment from returning showrunner Russell T Davies further muddies the waters ... A missing story, a parallel world, a dream, a trick, or a flashback. Intriguing options all.' This blogger's opinion, for what it's worth, is that David, Cat and Bernie will, indeed, feature in the Sixtieth Anniversary episode rather than in something separate - alaThe Night Of The Doctor which, of course, brought back, for eight minutes, Paul McGann's Doctor specifically so that he could regenerate into John Hurt. However, as Sci-Fi Bulletin's editor Paul Simpson noted, it is 'interesting' that the BBC appear to have gone out of their way to state that David and Catherine are returning to Doctor Who without specifying where. The probable reason for the timing of the announcement, on Sunday, was that within a day, locations photos of David, Cat and Bernie had appeared on Twitter and, thereafter, in the wider media. Filming was taking place in Camden - at a temporary coffee shop in the market outside clothing store Cyber Dog. Also spotted at the location was regular Doctor Who director Rachel Talalay although, reportedly, when asked whether she was involved in the production Rachel initially denied that she was. A couple of days later, however, Rachel came clean on the real reason for her being there!
Dear blog readers should be aware that the following From The North segment again contains potential spoilers related to the Doctor Who Sixtieth Anniversary episode. And should, therefore, be avoided if you're in the slightest bit bothered about such shenanigans. If you're not, then please read on ...
Still here? Good. Doctor Who has castHeartstopper's Yasmin Finney for the popular, long-running family SF drama's Sixtieth Anniversary. The actress, who plays Elle Argent in Netflix's series, has now started filming scenes for next year's Doctor Who anniversary as a character named Rose. Any relation to any other character called Rose may be entirely coincidental. Or not as the case may be. (Rumours suggest - and, on-location reports appear to confirm - that the character is, in fact, Donna and Shaun's, daughter.) 'If anyone would have told eight-year-old Yasmin that one day she'd be part of this iconic show, I would have never in a million years believed them,' Yasmin said. 'This show has a place in so many people's hearts, so to be seen as a trans actress by the legend himself Russell, has not only made my year, it's made my life. I cannot wait to begin this journey and for you all to see how Rose blossoms. Get Ready.' Big Rusty himself has also hinted that this Rose will be just as pivotal to The Doctor's fate as Rose Tyler was seventeen years ago. 'Life on Doctor Who gets brighter and wilder, how can there be another Rose?' the writer asked, rhetorically. 'You'll find out in 2023, but it's an absolute joy to welcome Yasmin to the Doctor Who set. We all fell in love with her in Heartstopper, one of those shows which changes the world.'
Mandip Gill will soon be taking one final trip in the TARDIS with Jodie Whittaker before she departs the popular, long-running family SF drama series later this year. However, despite waving goodbye to the show, Mandip has made it clear that she's still excited to see the next chapter of Doctor Who with Ncuti Gatwa. Speaking to the Digital Spy website, Mandip shared her thoughts on Gatwa's casting and revealed how Russell Davies kept the news secret for so long. 'It's so exciting!' Mandip noted. '[Ncuti] wasn't one of the people that people were talking about.' The actress confessed that, before the casting news broke, Davies was taking 'special measures' to keep the new Doctor's identity secret. She observed that the incoming Doctor Who showrunner was keen to throw fans off the scent as they speculated about which actor would be taking the role. 'Russell T Davies himself actually said that he put out false rumours which I kind of find really funny,' she said. Further detailing her enthusiasm for Ncuti, Mandip added: 'He's a perfect person to be doing it. It was always about the best actor for the part. I've not seen much of his work, so that's quite exciting.' Praising Gatwa for his passion for Doctor Who, Mandip went on to say that she believes the actor is 'exactly what that show needs.' Having already filmed her final scenes for Doctor Who, Mandip has already moved on to a new project and is currently starring alongside Tom Felton in 2:22 A Ghost Story. The duo play husband and wife in the thriller which is running at London's Criterion Theatre. And is, according to all reports, really rather good.
From The North favourite Karen Gillan has married her American boyfriend, Nick Kocher, in a closely guarded ceremony at a castle in Argyll. Some of the A-list guests at the wedding in Castle Toward in Dunoon reportedly included Robert Downey Jnr and Julia Roberts. The Lord Thy God Steven Moffat (OBE), who was executive producer of Doctor Who when Kazza was Matt Smith's TARDIS companion, was also a guest. Kazza, who had kept her engagement to the Saturday Night Live scriptwriter a secret, had chartered a yacht, The Spirit Of Fortitude, to take family and friends to the ceremony. One local snitched to the Daily Record like a filthy, stinkin' Copper's Nark: 'We had seen the yacht moored up but it was only when someone said Julia Roberts had been seen having breakfast in the Rock Cafe in Dunoon and Robert Downey Jr had been spotted going into a shop that we realised there was a celebrity wedding happening.' Inevitably, the Daily Scum Mail somehow managed to obtain a 'photo exclusive' of the happy event. Via one, rather blurry, photograph taken from a distance with a telephoto-lens and a twelve-year-old BBC publicity shot of Karen in a bridal dress from Amy and Rory's wedding in The Big Bang. One presumes that if and when Kazza finds herself with child, the Scum Mail will be heading straight to their photo archive and digging out an image from Amy's Choice.
Speaking of The Lord Thy God Steven Moffat (OBE), he has been talking to Radio Times about his new adaptation of The Time Travler's [sic] Wife, extracts of which can be read here. In this, Steven confirms that his acclaimed 2007 Doctor Who episode, The Girl In The Fireplace (a particular favourite of this blogger) was written soon after he read Audrey Niffenegger's 2003 novel about a reluctant time-traveller and his long-suffering wife. 'It's very similar in mood if not in detail,' Steven noted.
Nearly nine million people in the UK watched the Eurovision Song Contest on live BBC1 on Saturday, which saw the UK come second to eventual winners, Ukraine. Overnight figures were considerably higher than last year's event, when an average of 7.4 million watched in horror as the UK scored 'nul points'. Ah, happy memories. TV audience numbers for Saturday's Turin show peaked at 10.6 million, the BBC added. The Eurovision broadcast followed BBC1's coverage of the FA Cup Final, which drew an average overnight audience of nearly six million. Viewing numbers soared in the final half-hour of the match at Wembley - which saw The Liverpool Alabama Yee-Haws beat The Former Moscow Chelski FC six-five on penalties after extra time - peaking at eight million. There were also four million stream requests for the coverage across the BBC's various digital platforms. The live game was also shown on ITV where the audience averaged but 1.6 million. December's Strictly Come Dancing final averaged eleven million overnight viewers, while the Queen's Christmas message drew an audience of 8.96 million although that was across several different channels. High hopes accompanied this year's British entry to Eurovision. Sam Ryder was one of the favourites to win the competition with his song 'Space Man' - and it topped the jury vote on Saturday night, after two consecutive years of the UK coming dead last. But, a huge surge of public support in the popular vote propelled Ukraine's Kalush Orchestra to victory. Their winning song, 'Stefania', combined old Ukrainian folk melodies and traditional flute with bangin' rap and hip-hop beats. Which are, apparently, very popular with Young People, m'lud. An average of 8.9 million people tuned-in to watch the competition on the BBC - a fifty five per cent share of the available audience, the corporation said. Pro-Russian hackers attempted to disrupt voting for Eurovision, Italian police later confirmed. Police said that the Killnet hacker group targeted the first Semi-Final - in which Ukraine performed - as well as Saturday's final. But, they added, their cyber-security division blocked the attacks. Clearly, since Ukraine won.
From The North favourites Mark Kermode and Simon Mayo once had a rule on their BBC 5Live film review show than any movie which found itself advertised on a bus would, almost certainly, be rubbish. How ironic, therefore (as Mark himself noted on Twitter), that their move into the commercial sector, Kermode & Mayo's Take, now finds itself the subject of just such crass over-advertising. 'Is it time to rewrite the "if it's on the side of a bus ..." rule?' asked Mark, not unreasonably.
A movie recently reviewed on Kermode & Mayo's Take is a particular favourite of this blogger, Cabaret, back in cinemas for its Fiftieth Anniversary. Good God, dear blog reader, where have the last fifty years gone? Or, more accurately, the last thirty eight years, as this blogger first saw Cabaret, on video, in the early 1980s. Given that he was only eight when it first came out in 1972.
This blogger also highly recommends Mark's gushing review of Everything, Everywhere, All At Once which made this blogger want to hurry to his local multiplex and watch the movie at the earliest opportunity. Although, as previously noted, this blogger's local multiplex is, currently, closed due to 'safety concerns.' So, when said earliest opportunity will be is, presently, unknown.
Dear blog readers are also pointed in the direction of the Pop Screenpodcast where you can check out this blogger's Modtastic mate Mick Snowden's review of 'the Plan Nine From Outer Space of musicals', Bob Hartford-Davies's so-bad-it's-brilliant Gonks Go Beat (1965). 'Following the attempts of an intergalactic mediator to reconcile the warring nations of Beatland and Balladisle, it has a roster of musical stars including Lulu, a pre-Cream Ginger Baker, The Nashville Teens, several other artists who are even more obscure than The Nashville Teens. And Charlie off Casualty.' It's groovesville, baby! When this blogger informed Mod Mick that his review was being linked-to by this blog, he replied: 'We can finally say "Pop Screen, as seen on From The North." It's better than a laurel from Cannes.'
Netflix has made about one hundred and fifty staff extremely redundant, a month after the streaming service said it was losing subscribers for the first time in a decade. The redundancies, announced by the entertainment giant on Tuesday, will mainly affect its US office in California. They account for about two per cent of its North American workforce. Netflix said the job losses were due to the slump in the company's revenue. The streaming service is battling an exodus of viewers this year. 'These changes are primarily driven by business needs rather than individual performance, which makes them especially tough as none of us want to say goodbye to such great colleagues,' the company said in a statement. It wasn't disclosed which parts of the business would see job losses, but the Los Angeles Times reported that recruiting, communications and also the content department were all affected.
Rare items from the late veteran BBC DJ and From The North favourite John Peel's collection - including a signed record from John Lennon and Yoko Ono - are to go under the hammer. John Peel was Radio 1's longest-serving original DJ until his sudden death in 2004 at the age of sixty five, and lived in Peel Acres near Stowmarket. His radio shows helped many music careers, including those of David Bowie, T-Rex, The Sex Pistols and The Smiths. His family said items had been carefully chosen for the 14 June sale. His widow and children said he had collected a 'wealth of souvenirs' through his close access to stars and events. 'In going through the accumulation of forty years of pop music moments, we decided that some of the most interesting items might find a home, with fans of his programme or of the artists whose music he played,' they said. 'We hope these items find the attention and appreciation that we're sure John/Dad would feel they warranted. We had no desire to split up his beloved record collection but have included in the sale a selection of particularly rare or unique records that do not take away from the integrity of his archive.' Objects from his collection, including records, personal correspondence and memorabilia, will be auctioned at Bonhams Knightsbridge in the week before Glastonbury's fiftieth anniversary. One item, with an estimate of between fifteen and twenty grand, is a mono pressing of Lennon and Ono's notoriously unlistenable 1968 LP Two Virgins. Other pieces include a signed Rolling Stones 1969 promo LP, estimated to go for six to eight thousand knicker, a The Queen Group LP that comes with a letter from Freddie Mercury, with an estimate of a thousand smackers and a Joy Division single and letter - estimated at four to six thousand quid. Katherine Schofield, of Bonhams, said: 'John Peel had an incredible impact on the new music landscape. Without his passionate advocacy of emerging talent, generations of music lovers may never have heard the sounds of The Fall, The Undertones, The Sex Pistols and countless others.'
The Television Heaven website has published a really terrific article on one of this blogger's favourite early-1980s shows, Andrew Davies' children's comedy, Educating Marmalade starring the late Charlotte Coleman. A minus point to the author Marc Saul, however, for managing get through several thousand - highly impressive - words on the ITV show without once mentioning the brilliant theme tune by Bad Manners. Which does, indeed, end up as 'a naughty escapade.'
Stargazers have been treated to a stunning and unusual sight - a super blood Moon. On Monday, Earth's orbit meant that for several minutes our planet was positioned directly between the Sun and the Moon. In that time the Moon fell completely into Earth's shadow - temporarily turning it a dusky shade of dark red. Its hue was created by sunlight being projected through Earth's atmosphere onto the Moon's shadowed surface. The lunar eclipse coincided with a separate event - a super Moon. This is when the Moon is at its closest point to Earth in its orbit and, thus, appears larger than usual. In Europe, the phenomenon was only visible for some of that time because the Moon was beginning to set. But in the Americas, areas under clear skies were treated to the full spectacle.
Meanwhile, dear blog reader, some - probable - good news, from NASA, via the always reliable Sunday Sport. This blogger believes that there are nowhere near enough uses of the term 'boffins' in media reports these days.
NASA's Perseverance rover has reached a big moment in its mission on Mars. Tuesday SAW the six-wheeled robot begin the climb up an ancient delta feature in the crater where it landed. It will roll uphill, stopping every so often to examine rocks that look to have the best chance of retaining evidence of past life on the planet. On its way back down, Perseverance will collect some of these rocks, placing the samples at the base of the delta to be retrieved by later missions. The goal is to bring this material back to Earth in the 2030s for detailed inspection. 'The delta in Jezero Crater is the main astrobiology target of Perseverance,' said deputy project scientist, Doctor Katie Stack Morgan. 'These are the rocks that we think likely have the highest potential for containing signs of ancient life and can also tell us about the climate of Mars and how this has evolved over time,' she told BBC News. The rover made its spectacular landing in the middle of Mars' forty five kilometre-wide Jezero Crater on 18 February last year. Since then it's been testing its tools and instruments, flying an experimental mini-helicopter and gathering a general impression of its surroundings. But the robot's chief purpose in going to the near-equatorial bowl on The Red Planet has always been to study the huge mound of sediments in the West of Jezero. Long suspected to be a delta, based on satellite imagery, Perseverance's initial observations on the ground have now confirmed this assessment. A delta is a structure built up from the silt and sand dumped by a river as it enters a wider body of water. The sudden deceleration that occurs in the river's flow allows anything carried in suspension to fall out. In Jezero's case, the wider body of water was very probably a crater-wide lake that existed billions of years ago. 'Rivers that flow into a delta will bring nutrients, which are helpful for life, obviously; and then the fine-grained sediment that is brought and laid down at a high rate in a delta is good for preservation,' explained mission scientist Professor Sanjeev Gupta from Imperial College London. 'Also, if there is life in the hinterland, this can get brought down the river and concentrated in a delta.' In recent days, Perseverance has manoeuvred itself to an 'on ramp' to the delta dubbed Hawksbill Gap. This is a gentle incline that will take the robot to an elevation of a few tens of metres above the crater floor.
The eruption of the Tonga volcano in January has been confirmed as 'the biggest explosion ever recorded in the atmosphere' by modern instrumentation. It was far bigger than any Twentieth Century volcanic event, or indeed any atom bomb test conducted post-World War II. The assessment comes in a pair of scholarly papers in the journal Science which have reviewed all the available data. Of recent history, it's likely that only the famous Krakatoa (West of Java) eruption of 1883 rivalled the atmospheric disturbance produced. That catastrophic event is believed to have claimed more than thirty thousand lives. Fortunately, the 15 January climactic eruption of the underwater volcano at Hunga Tonga-Hunga Ha'apai in the South Pacific resulted in very few deaths, even though it also produced large tsunamis. 'Tonga was a truly global event, just as Krakatau was, but we've now got all these geophysical observation systems and they recorded something that was really unprecedented in the modern data,' Doctor Robin Matoza, from the University of California, Santa Barbara, told the BBC News website. He is the lead author on one of the papers. Scientists now have access to an extraordinary array of ground-based and spaceborne instruments, including atmospheric pressure sensors, seismometers, hydro-phones and a fleet of satellites that monitor the Earth across the entire light spectrum. The colossal Tonga explosion, which came at the end of of several weeks of activity at the seamount, produced several types of atmospheric pressure waves that propagated vast distances. In the audible range of frequencies, people ten thousand kilometres away in Alaska reported hearing repeated booms. The global network of detectors set up to monitor compliance with the Comprehensive Nuclear-Test-Ban Treaty picked up the infrasound signal. Infrasound has frequencies that are just below what humans are capable of hearing. The network's data indicated the Tonga volcano blast produced an atmospheric pressure wave comparable with that from the biggest ever nuclear explosion - the Tsar bomb detonated by the Soviets in 1961 - but lasted four times longer. The papers discuss at length the perturbations driven by so called Lamb Waves, named after the early Twentieth Century mathematician Horace Lamb. These are energetic waves in the air that propagate at the speed of sound, along a path guided by the surface of the planet. They are also non-dispersive, in other words they maintain their shape as they move and so are conspicuous over a long time. The Lamb Wave pulses produced by the Tonga eruption were seen to circle the Earth at least four times. In the UK, which is some sixteen-and-a-half thousand kilometres from Tonga, these pulses began arriving on the evening of the 15th January, about fourteen hours after the climactic eruption on the other side of the planet. They lifted the clouds over the UK. 'At the time, we had a laser cloud-base recorder looking at the cloud base and as the wave went through the cloud was perturbed,' recalls Professor Giles Harrison, an atmospheric physicist at the University of Reading and co-author on one of the papers. 'If ever you wanted evidence that the atmosphere is a remarkably interconnected thing, this was it. And what happens on one side of the planet can propagate around to the other side at the speed of sound.' Where the Lamb Waves coupled with ocean waves, they were able to generate tsunami - not just in the Pacific Ocean, but in the Atlantic Ocean and the Mediterranean as well. Scientists are still investigating the generation of near-field tsunamis that ran up coastlines in the Tongan archipelago. Some were undoubtedly crafted by pressure waves from the volcano pushing down on the water surface, but investigations are on-going to determine whether collapse of part of the volcano also made a significant contribution.
Demolition work has begun in Newcastle city centre to make way for a new government complex. The Northern section of Pilgrim Street will be shut for seven weeks as work begins on the new site for nine thousand HMRC staff. The work includes bulldozing Commercial Union House which were built in 1971. Currently HMRC workers are based in Washington and Longbenton and these sites will close. The Stack shipping container village on the site of the old Pilgrim Street Odeon cinema - a place where this blogger spent a decent proportion of his teenage years - also closed earlier this month to make way for the development, which has been approved by Newcastle City Council. Nearby Bamburgh House will also be demolished, as will the interior of the Art Deco Carliol House. Until recently, the eight-storey Commercial Union House had been rented by the artists' collective Orbis. The new office development will wrap around Pilgrim Street, John Dobson Street, Market Street and New Bridge Street West. The nine-storey, Reuben Brothers-developed one hundred and fifty five million knicker site is due to be completed by 2027. It requires a final seal of approval from the government due to heritage concerns about losing much of the grade II listed Carliol House.
Weeks of overnight closures on The Tyne Bridge will be necessary in the run-up to a long-overdue restoration. Newcastle City Council said engineers needed to assess how bad its state of repair was before the government would sign off funding for the work. The council has bid for over forty one million snots to repair the historic structure and refurbish the Central Motorway. The authority said it had to 'assess its condition and the scale of works required to finalise the costings.' A spokesperson said: 'As we need to inspect the entire span of the bridge, overnight closures may be required on the bridge and roads underneath it, so engineers can complete this work safely.' The Tyne Bridge has had no major maintenance for two decades, the Local Democracy Reporting Service said. About seventy thousand vehicles cross it each day and it was feared it could be forced to close to all traffic apart from buses if essential maintenance was not carried out. It is hoped the work will be completed in time for its one hundredth birthday in 2028, although council chiefs have warned this is in doubt.
Three parachutists were seen jumping from the top of a huge Newcastle tower block, much to the shock of passers-bys. Shocked - and stunned - so they were. Now the unofficial jump from the second tallest building in Newcastle is being extremely investigated by Plod. Northumbria Police received reports at on Monday evening, that three unknown males had leaped from the top of Vale House in Jesmond, before pulling parachutes and gliding down into the car park below. After making the two hundred and sixty two foot base jump, it is said that the three then legged it before they could be pinched by The Rozzers for their naughty high-flying behaviour. A Northumbria Police spokesperson said: 'At around 9.40pm yesterday [Monday], police received a report of a disturbance at Vale House on Lansdowne Gardens in Jesmond. It was reported that three unknown males parachuted off the roof of the building and landed in a nearby car park before leaving the area on foot. Enquiries are ongoing to establish if any criminal offences have taken place. It is not believed that anyone was injured.' Some members of the public witnessed the jump including one who was sat in the beer garden of the nearby Blue Bell pub. Snitching to the Evening Chronicle, he said: 'I heard a crack - as the parachutes make a really loud noise when pulled - and then I saw someone floating down from the building. I thought it was an action man figure with a parachute at first, but then I realised it was people base jumping after the second one came down.'
A government consultation on how to tackle the nation's Vitamin D deficiency problem ends on Sunday. Just in time for this blogger, frankly, who has recently discovered that, his very self - in addition to Vitamin B-12 and folate acid - he is somewhat deficient in Vitamin D. One idea being floated is getting people to eat biofortified foods, such as mushrooms that have been exposed to UV light. Although, given the amount of mushroom omelettes which this blogger has been eating of late - an average of at least one a day, sometimes more - that, surely, can't be the whole answer. More than one-in-ten adults in the UK is thought to be lacking in the sunshine vitamin, which is needed to keep muscles and bones healthy. And this blogger, it would seem, is - as UB40 once noted - a one-in-ten. Too much vitamin D can be bad for you, though - a build-up of it can cause an excess of calcium in the body. This blogger did, indeed, check with the very excellent Doctor Nasir when he recently prescribed some Vitamin D supplements for this blogger, whether it was possible to, you know, 'overdose' on Vitamin D. He was told that it is, indeed, possible to do exactly that. But, you have to take loads - and, eat lots of fish, eggs, mushrooms and red meat into the bargain. This is, apparently, why there is a debate about which is the best way to improve the nation's Vitamin D intake, since some people already get plenty. It also doesn't help that we don't get as much sunshine in this country as they do in, say, Mediterranean countries where Vitamin D deficiency is much rarer (though not entirely unknown). The England-only consultation, led by the Office for Health Improvement and Disparities and the Department of Health and Social Care has asked for individuals or businesses to contribute with suggestions. The next step will involve a national campaign to improve the vitamin status of the population. There could also be legislation passed to allow food producers to put more Vitamin D in foods which don't naturally contain it, in a process known as 'fortification', as well as growing produce and breeding meat to be more Vitamin D-rich through biofortification. Margarines used to have to be fortified, by law, but the government dropped that requirement in 2013 to reduce the amount of regulations dairy farmers needed to follow. Some people (Gruniad Morning Star readers, mainly) are 'concerned' that if many foods were fortified with various vitamins and nutrients, we might end up consuming too many. However, Doctor Stacey Lockyer, from the British Nutrition Foundation, says this is 'unlikely.' And, if both Doctor Stacey and Doctor Nasir reckon it's okay for this blogger to take Vitamin D pills, then sod all the vegan quiche-eating Gruniad Morning Star readers, he'll be taking them. 'The safe upper limit for a nutrient, set by health authorities to help ensure that total intakes do not pose risks for public health, would always be carefully considered before the implementation of a food fortification policy,' Doctor Stacey, a nutrition scientist, told the BBC. 'Studies conducted across Europe - under The Odin Project - have looked at the inclusion of Vitamin D-fortified foods, either singularly, but also in combination, and have concluded that diverse fortification strategies carry little risk of exceeding the safe upper limit for Vitamin D and thus could safely increase population intakes.' People can get some Vitamin D from their diet, but also make it in their skin when it is exposed to the sun. There is no exact figure for how much time should be spent in the sun, but the charity Cancer Research says people should always be 'careful' about skin cancer risk. For a while now, the government has recommended everyone should consider taking daily vitamin D supplements during the autumn and winter to top up their levels. Some people are more likely to be deficient - people who don't get outdoors much or who cover their skin, as well as people with naturally darker skin. Or, people like this blogger, with anaemia. During the pandemic, more than nine hundred thousand Vitamin D supplements were given to people who were clinically extremely vulnerable and those in care homes to help avoid more deficiencies. These supplements were discontinued in February 2021, which clinicians from the Royal Osteoporosis Society say is 'concerning', because it could lead to more people developing osteoporosis. 'Elderly people in particular face a perfect storm if Vitamin D supplements are not made readily available, as do vulnerable individuals who cannot get out for UV exposure over a UK summer,' they said and, added, 'targeting these groups is helpful but doesn't address the magnitude of the problem that exists from cradle to grave.' And, as an 'elderly' person, this blogger totally agrees with them. At present, only eligible pregnant women, new mothers and children under four can get free supplements, which contain folic acid, Vitamin C and D as part of the Healthy Start scheme. This blogger's only getting them because he was specifically prescribed them by his doctor after the deficiency was highlighted in one of the blood tests this blogger had during his last out-patient hospital appointment in March. Supplements can be purchased from most supermarkets and pharmacies, with a three-month supply costing under three knicker. You should be able to get the right amount of Vitamin D just by going out in the sun between March and September in the UK. But during the winter months, the Sun will not be enough. Foods that naturally contain Vitamin D include oily fish like salmon, sardines, herring and mackerel, red meat, egg yolks and mushrooms. Some products, like breakfast cereals, are fortified with Vitamin D. Researchers are also exploring biofortification - for example, rearing animals to produce Vitamin-D rich beef, pork, chicken and eggs. There are two important forms of Vitamin D - D2 (ergocalciferol) and D3 (cholecalciferol) - the latter is what this blogger is deficient in, apparently. D2 generally comes from plants, such as mushrooms, while D3 comes from animal sources, such as eggs and fish, as well as our skin when it is exposed to sunlight. Most Vitamin D supplements contain Vitamin D3, which is typically produced from a wax called lanolin, extracted from sheep's wool and may not be suitable for vegans or those who do not consume dairy. Doctor Stacey says that, nevertheless, you can still get the vitamins you need when you're vegan or vegetarian. 'Eggs are a useful source of Vitamin D for vegetarians who eat them,' she told the BBC. 'Other food sources of Vitamin D that are suitable for vegetarians and vegans are foods fortified with Vitamin D such as some plant oil-based polyunsaturated fat spreads, some plant-based dairy alternatives - choose unsweetened versions - and some breakfast cereals - where fortified with a form of Vitamin D suitable for vegans.' Or, you could just have a nice, thick, greasy bacon sarnie, smothered with thick Lurpack. That should sort out the lack of Vitamin D.
So, dear blog reader, with a horrible inevitability we come to that regular part of From The North dedicated to this blogger's on-going medical issues. For those who haven't been following this on-going saga which seems to have been on-going longer than Doctor Who: This blogger spent several weeks feeling rotten; he had a week in hospital; he was discharged; he received some B12 injections; he had more injections; he, eventually, recovered his previously missing appetite; he got a diagnosis; he had a meeting with his consultant; he continued to suffer from fatigue and insomnia; he endured a second endoscopy; he had another consultation with his doctor; then he got toothache and had an extraction. This week ... not much additional to report, as it happens. Apart from the addition Vitamin D to the - expanding - list of things he's deficient in, obviously. His jaw took several days to stop hurting after having his troublesome molar gouged out. And, he continues to have the regular irritation of being really tired during the day after nights of insomnia and disturbed sleep. But, all-in-all, he's had far worse weeks. He even managed to leave the safety of The Stately Telly Topping Manor Plague House and get the bus to Morrisons on Tuesday for a - much deserved - breakfast. 
Mind you, dear blog reader, the sun was out in force of Wednesday, seeming to mock this blogger's Vitamin D issues like a big, yellow, shiny, mocking thing. Here's The Stately Telly Topping Manor Plague House (a visual representation). It was too darned hot, dear blog reader. And the drums never cease ...
This blogger's latest US preview disc rocked up at The Stately Telly Topping Manor Plague House midweek. Strange New Worlds: Ghosts Of Illyria, the first Number One-centric episode, essentially, this is a remake of The Naked Time (interestingly, at almost exactly the same point in Strange New World's development as The Next Generation did the same thing). The worst - or, let's be kind and say, least best - of the three episodes broadcast thus far with rather too much talking and nowhere near enough massive fek-off girl-on-girl kung-fun action (although the one example of the latter that we did get was rather fine). This blogger enjoyed the fact that one of the symptoms of the alien disease was Vitamin D deficiency (see above). Maybe it's the first sign that this blogger has, in addition to all of his other ailments, contracted The Illyrian Virus. It was nice to see that, even after fifty odd years, Star Trek still has the ability to be inclusive for its viewers.
Better - much better - was The Man Who Fell To Earth: Under Pressure. Somebody should really clue Chiwetel up that operating an electronic devise whilst sitting in a bath is a jolly dangerous thing to do. This blogger is loving Rob Delaney getting all the funny dialogue ('Woah! Nice penis!') ... Well, all the funny dialogue that Naomie Harris and Bill Nighy didn't get, that is. Juliet Stevenson pulled off a superb impression of Candy Clark's accent and mannerisms, if not (necessarily) her character. After forty years we finally get to hear what that LP Tommy Newton was holding when he met Nathan Bryce in the café at the end of the movie actually sounded like. Low slowed down and played backwards, basically. 'Tell my wife I love her very much, she knows!' God, this blogger loves this series. Minus points, however, for a throwaway reference to From The North ... whatever the opposite of favourite is, Lenny Henry (last, briefly, funny in 1983).
From The North favourite Endeavourreportedly begins filming its ninth series on Sunday.
A memorial plaque on a bench overlooking South Beach in Aberystwyth which contained a naughty bad swear word, has been removed. By people without a sense of humour, it would seem. The plaque had been placed on a bench on the Castle grounds, overlooking the sea and read: 'In loving memory of Huw Davies. Used to sit here and shout "Fuck off!" at the seagulls.' Despite the plaque being widely shared - and admired - on social media, a spokesperson for Ceredigion County Council said: 'An unauthorised plaque had been placed, by an unknown person, on an existing bench within Aberystwyth Castle grounds. The plaque has been removed.' Humourless glake.
It's now time for the nominees for the latest From The North Headline Of The Week awards, dear blog reader. Kicking-off (in more ways than one) with BBC News's Wayne Rooney Says FA Wanted Rebekah Vardy To Calm Down. Just one of several brilliant headlines from across the media concerning the so-called 'Wagatha Christie' libel trial. The same website also provided readers with 'ten things that we've learned' from the trial. Eleven, if you count 'who, actually, gives a fek about this nonsense.'
The Sun were also having a lot of fun with the Vardy/Rooney grudge match. And, seemingly, losing the ability to speak recognisable English in the process.
The Daily Lies regularly features comedy genius in its headlines but this blogger is forced to admit that 'I'm A Super Soldier Fighting In Space War After Being Abducted By Fifteen Foot Alien Dracula' is a corker even by their, unique, standards. If you're wondering, dear blog reader, this 'story' - and, this blogger uses that word quite wrongly - by Jade Culver concerns one Russ Kellett from Filey, who claims that for the past thirty years he has been part of an alien army fighting the Dragos which are tall and scaley with heads like dragons. Marvellous work, Jade. A Pulitzer is, surely, yours for the taking.
This has, clearly, been Mental People With Tales About Aliens Week at the Daily Lies as, not only did they present the previous - extremely silly - item but, also, Woman Who 'Loves Alien' Refuses To Show Its Face For 'Area Fifty One Security Reasons'. In which Abbie Bela - also known as Emanuela Rose - claims that she met her 'alien boyfriend' when she was abducted in London and that he captains a UFO which is, currently, circling Earth.
USA Today's Influencer Parents Who Let Six-Year-Old Son Run Marathon Say They Were Visited By CPS is also worthy of being drawn to the attention of a wider readership. Whether the 'influencer parents' involved, Ben and Kami Crawford, managed to 'influence' the authorities to let them off with their potentially-illegal bad parenting ways is unknown. 
The AOL News website published the thoroughly brilliant Man Denies Assaulting Sir Iain Duncan Smith By Putting Traffic Cone On His Head. Which sounds like it should be a new national sport, frankly. Sadly, this appears to be one of those cases of a headline writing as cheque that the accompanying article couldn't, possibly, cash.
Still knee-deep in the political arena, hats off to the Daily Record for Renfrewshire Councillor Accused Of Calling Political Rival A 'Walloper' On Facebook. Walloper, incidentally, is Scottish slang for a big, throbbing dong. Whether the political rival thus described particularly minded being compared to a massive member we simply don't know.
Next, dear blog reader, we turn to the climax of the actual socherball season. The top four Premier League teams will, as usual, qualify for the Champions League group stages. Shekih Yer Man City, The Liverpool Alabama Yee-Haws and The Club Formerly Known As Moscow Chelski FC are already assured of top-four places. However, even if Liverpool win this season's Champions League final (they play Real Madrid on 28 May), there will be no extra place for English clubs. The title race is, as it has been since August, between City and The Pool, who are separated by but one point going into the final games on Sunday. The fourth Champions League place is between Stottingtot Hotshots and The Arse. Realistically, however, because of Spurs' vastly superior goal difference, they will finish in the top four unless they lose their final game (at Norwich) and Arsenal win theirs (at home to Everton). Liverpool's victories in both the FA Cup and theee Carabao Cup mean that the European places from those competitions automatically revert to the league. The fifth and sixth-placed Premier League teams will qualify for the Europa League group stage, while the seventh-placed team will earn a - much-coveted - place in the Europa Conference League play-off round. Sixth and seventh places is between The Scum and West Hamsters United and will be decided on the last day of the season (The Scum are at Crystal Palace, The Hamsters visit Brighton & Hove Albinos). Norwich's relegation was confirmed on 30 April when they lost to the Aston Villains, while Watford joined them on 7 May after their defeat at Crystal Palace. The final relegation place is between Burnley and Dirty Leeds following Everton's come-from-behind victory over Crystal Palace on Thursday.
Dear blog readers will, however, excuse this blogger if her doesn't mention one of the best stories of the Premier League season, the unexpected (but, very welcome) turnaround in fortunes of his beloved (and now, thankfully, sold) Newcastle United. On 20 November, twelve days after Eddie Howe was appointed as manager to replace that odious stinker Steve Brucie (nasty to see him, to see him nasty), a draw with Brentford - coupled with Norwich beating Southampton - saw The Magpies sink to the foot of the table, winless after a dozen games and, seemingly, heading straight for the Championship. Fast forward five months, a much-needed transfer window and eleven wins from eighteen games since January and Howe and his team now sit comfortably in twelfth place, the threat of relegation having long-since been banished. Sceptics - and, several of the odious Mister Bruice's big-mouthed fiends in the media in particular - questioned whether Howe was the right appointment at St James' Park due to his attacking style of play. However, the dramatic u-turn in Th' Toon's form has silenced the doubters and made Howe a genuine hero to The Magpies' fanbase. So, many congratulations are due to 'the fellah from Bournemouth who got a team relegated' (according to his odious predecessor in the St James' Park dug-out). There are actual smiles on faces at Gallowgate these days, something notably absent during the majority of Mike Ashley's reign of misery.
Fulham clinched promotion back to the Premier League on 19 April with a three-nil win over Preston Both Ends and won the Championship title with a game to spare on 2 May, beating Luton seven-nil. Runners-up Bournemouth made sure of the second automatic promotion place on 3 May when defeating Nottingham Forest. In the play-off final at Wembley on 29 May, Huddersfield Town (who beat Luton in their semi-final) will face Nottingham Forest (who edged past Sheffield United on penalties amid scenes of a geet rive-on with kids getin' sparked and aal sorts). The Middlesbrough Smog Monsters missed out on the play-offs, thrashed at Preston on the final day of the season. Blackburn Rovers, Millwall and West Bromwich Albinos (the latter now managed by That Nasty Mister Brucie fellow) also failed to make the play-offs. Cash-strapped Derby County's relegation to League One was confirmed on 18 April after a defeat at Queens Park Strangers (the scowl on Wayne Ronney's boat-race could be seen from space, dear blog reader), whilst Barnsley joined them four days later after a two-nil loss at Huddersfield. Peterborough United became the third relegated club, losing at home to Nottingham Forest on 23 April. Reading, Birmingham City and Hull City all avoided the drop.
Wigan Not Very Athletic clinched promotion to the Championship and won the League One title when they beat Shrewsbury three-nil on the final day of the season. Rotherham United made sure of the second automatic promotion place, winning three-nil at Gillingham. In the play-off final on 21 May, Wycombe Wanderers (who beat Milton Keynes Dons in their semi-final) will face Sunderland after The Mackem Filth overcame Sheffield Wednesday. Plymouth Argyle, Oxford United, Notlob Wanderers and Ipswich Town were among those who were in contention for a play-off place for much of the season but, ultimately, missed out. Crewe Alexandra were the first EFL club to be relegated on 9 April when they lost two-nil to fellow strugglers Doncaster Rovers. Relegation was not confirmed for the other three clubs until the last day of the season as Doncaster drew at Oxford, AFC Wimbledon lost four-three to Accrington Stanley (who are they?) and Gillingham lost three-nil to Rotherham. Fleetwood Town avoided relegation due to their superior goal difference whilst Morecambe & Wise FC finished two points clear of the drop zone.
Forest Green Hippy Rovers - and their, much-sung-about, meat-free pies - booked their place in League One with a goalless draw at Bristol Rovers on 23 April, while Exeter City were promoted three days later after beating Barrow two-one at the other St James' Park. Forest Green made sure of the title, drawing two-two at Mansfield on the final day, when Joey Barton's Bristol Rovers dramatically clinched the third automatic promotion place with a sensational seven-nil victory over already relegated Scunthorpe. In the play-off semi-finals, Mansfield Town beat Northampton Town, while Port Vale defeated Swindon Town on penalties. Sutton United, Tranmere Rovers, Salford FC and Newport County were among those who threatened to challenge for the play-offs but fell short. The bottom two teams were relegated to the National League; Scunthorpe United on 15 April when they lost three-nil at Leyton Orient while Oldham Not Very Athletic (a Premier League club as recently as 1994) joined them after losing two-one to Salford on 23 April in a game which was completed behind closed doors after initially being abandoned following a pitch invasion by outraged Latics fans. Barrow, Stevenage, Carlisle United, Harrogate Town, Rochdale and Hartlepool all limped to safety, largely due to the on-pitch ineptitude of the two relegated clubs.
National League Champions Stockport County were promoted to League Two after beating Halifax two-nil. In the first round of the play-offs, Notts County play Grimsby Town on 23 May while FC Halifax entertain Chesterfield the following day. The winner of Notts County or Grimsby will then visit Wrexham in the semi-finals on 28 May, while Halifax or Chesterfield will be away to Solihull Moors - with the semi-final winners meeting on 5 June for a place in League Two. The bottom three teams were relegated to the National League North or South. Dover Athletic, deducted twelve points for failing to complete their 2020-21 fixtures, were the first club from England's five major leagues to be relegated after a two-nil defeat by Yeovil Town on 19 March. They were joined by Weymouth on 26 April when they lost six-one to Wrexham and King's Lynn Town on 30 April after a three-all draw with Eastleigh. The champions and play-off winners of the North and South divisions will all be promoted to the National League, restoring it to twenty four clubs. Maidstone United clinched the Southern title on 30 April, with Gateshead making sure of the North title on 2 May. G'yiddip Th' Heed! Both of the play-off finals are on 21 May. York City host Boston United at the LNER Community Stadium whilst Dorking Wanderers and Ebbsfleet United compete for the Southern promotion slot.
Scottish Premier League champions Glasgow Celtic clinched the title on 11 May, drawing at Dundee United and will enter the Champions League at the group stage (following the ban of Russian clubs from UEFA's 2022-23 competitions). Runners-up Glasgow Rangers will enter the Champions League at the third qualifying round. They would have gone straight into the group stages if they had won the Europa League final this week but, they lost on penalties to Eintracht Frankfurt. Because both Rangers and third-placed Heart Of Midlothian have reached the Scottish Cup final, Hearts will enter the Europa League at the play-off round. Fourth-placed Dundee United gained a place in the Europa Conference League third qualifying round and fifth-placed Motherwell will enter the same competition at the second qualifying round. Bottom placed Dundee's relegation to the Scottish Championship was confirmed on 11 May after St Johnstone beat Aberdeen. Having finished eleventh, St Johnstone face Championship side Inverness Caledonian Thistle in a two-legged play-off on 20 and 23 May.
Kilmarnock were promoted to the Premiership after beating nearest Championship rivals Arbroath on 22 April. In the play-off final, Inverness Caledonian Thistle will meet St Johnstone for the final place in next season's Premiership. Bottom club Queen of the South were relegated to League One on 23 April. Ninth-placed Dunfermline Athletic were relegated on 7 May after losing their play-off semi-final to League One side Queen's Park. Cove Rangers were promoted to the Championship as League One champions on 23 April after beating Dumbarton, while Queen's Park earned the second promotion place, defeating Airdrieonians in the play-off final. East Fife were relegated to League Two on 16 April after losing three-one to Falkirk. Ninth-placed Dumbarton were relegated on 7 May after losing their play-off semi-final to League Two side Edinburgh City. League Two champions Kelty Hearts clinched automatic promotion with a win over Stenhousemuir on 26 March, while Edinburgh City were promoted on 13 May after overcoming Annan Athletic in the play-off final. Cowdenbeath were relegated to the Lowland League on 14 May after losing a play-off to Lowland champions Bonnyrigg Rose Athletic, who will replace them in League Two in 2022-23.
There will, as usual, be dancing in the streets of The New Saints. The Oswestry club won the Cymru Premier League for the fourteenth time by a record twenty one points and, in doing so, qualified for the Champions League. Saints then completed the double, winning the Welsh Cup final against Penybont. Linfield won the Northern Ireland Premiership, ahead of Cliftonville and Glentoran. Crusaders, Larne and Coleraine also qualified for the Europa Conference League play-offs.
A double from the Argentina striker Lautaro Martínez earned Internazionale a three-one win at Cagliari, a victory which ensured the Serie A title race will go to the final weekend. With the leaders, AC Milan, having beaten Atalanta two-nil at the San Siro earlier on Sunday, Inter had to win in Sardinia to keep the title race alive, going in front through Matteo Darmian. Martínez added a second after the break and Inter appeared on course for a comfortable ninth win in ten matches, before Charalampos Lykogiannis brought Cagliari back into the game. Inter suffered some nervous moments before Martinez's second secured the game. Victory meant that Inter remained two points behind their Milan rivals. The champions must beat Sampdoria at home on Sunday and hope AC lose at Sassuolo, if they are to retain the Scudetto. Elsewhere in Serie A, Napoli made sure they will finish third, ahead of Juventus, after a three-nil win over Genoa. In La Liga, where Real Madrid had already been crowned champions some weeks ago, a late header from Youssef En-Nesyri earned Sevilla a draw at Atlético Madrid, securing Champions League qualification despite extending their winless run to four games. With one match remaining, the result left Sevilla fourth on sixty seven points, three ahead of Real Betis, but with a better head-to-head record against their local rivals. The Copa Del Rey winners, who had already secured a Europa League spot, won two-nil at home against Granada. Barcelona were held to a goalless draw at Getafe, but still wrapped up second place ahead of Atlético to secure a spot in the lucrative Spanish Super Cup. Real Sociedad secured a spot in the Europa League after recovering from going a goal down to win two-one at Villarreal. They are sixth on sixty two points, six ahead of Unai Emery's Villarreal who could failed to qualify for European competitions entirely, after reaching the Champions League semi-finals earlier this season. They are only one point ahead of eighth-placed Athletic Bilbao, who won two-nil against Osasuna. Villarreal play Barcelona next Sunday while Sevilla play Bilbao, who are still fighting for seventh place and a spot in the Europa Conference League. Alavés were relegated following a three-one defeat by Levante, while a Rúben Sobrino strike earned Cádiz a reprieve as they kept alive their slim hopes of avoiding the drop with a home draw against Real Madrid. The four-times Bundesliga champions Werder Bremen won promotion back to the top division after a one-year absence with a two-nil victory over Jahn Regensburg that sealed runners-up spot in the second division. Fußballclub Gelsenkirchen-Schalke 04 had already secured the 2 Bundesliga championship and promotion a year after they were also relegated. Hamburger SV came from a goal down to beat Hansa Rostock three-two and finish third ahead of Darmstadt on goal difference. This sets up a play-off with Hertha Berlin in Hamburg's attempt to return to the top flight after four years. Hertha, who finished sixteenth in the Bundesliga, are managed by the former Hamburg great Felix Magath. Fußball-Club Bayern München, Borussia Dortmund, Bayer Leverkusen and RB Leipzig secured the top-four spots and places in the Champions League. Union Berlin and SC Freiburg earned Europa League finishes whilst Köln grabbed a Europa Conference League place ahead of Mainz, Hoffenheim and Borussia Mönchengladbach.
Paris Saint Germain had already won Lique Une long before their four-nil victory over Montpellier lasy weekend and are currently fifteen points clear of second placed Monaco. Third placed Marseille and Rennes sit in the other Champions League places although Strasbourg and Nice both have a mathematical chance of finishing fourth. Lens, Lyon, Nantes and Lille complete the top ten. Metz, Bordeaux and one of the cult sides of the 1970s, Saint-Étienne, were relegated. Ajax were crowned Dutch champions with an emphatic five-nil victory over Heerenveen at the Johan Cruijff Arena, giving Scumchester United-bound coach Ten Hag the perfect send-off. The Amsterdam club, who have now extended their record number of domestic league titles to thirty six, finished four points clear of second-placed PSV Eindhoven. Ten Hag ended his four-and-a-half-year stay at the club with a third Eredivisie title. Feyenoord, FC Twente, AZ Alkmaar, SBV Vitesse Arnhem, FC Utrecht and SC Heerenveen also secured qualification for European competitions whilst Heracles Almelo, Willem II and PEC Zwolle were relegated. Go Ahead Eagles Deventer, to the relief of their legion of non-Dutch fans, finished thirteenth. In the Portuguese Primeira as expected, The Big Three - FC Porto, Sporting Lisbon and Benfica - occupied the top three places. Others who will be competing in next season's Champions League include Club Brugge and Union Saint-Gilloise (Belgium), RB Salzburg and Sturm Graz (Austria), Shakhtar Donetsk and Dynamo Kyiv (Ukraine - assuming the Russians haven't bombed them to oblivion by then), Trabzonspor (Turkey), FC København and Midtjylland (Denamrk) and Apollon Limassol (Cyprus). And, Qarabağ (Azerbaijan), Malmö FF (Sweden), Ludogorets Razgrad (Bulgaria), Sheriff Tiraspol (Moldova), CFR Cluj (Romania), Bodø/Glimt (Norway), Ferencváros (Hungary), Slovan Bratislava (Slovakia), HJK (Finland), Inter Club d'Escaldes (Andorra), Žalgiris (Lithuania), Lincoln Red Imps (Gilbraltar), Shamrock Rovers (Eire), Zrinjski (Bosnia & Herzegovina), Sutjeska Nikšić (Montenegro), Shakhtyor Soligorsk (Belarus), KÍ Klaksvík (Faroe Islands), Lech Poznań (Poland), F91 Dudelange (Luxembourg), Hibernians (Malta), FC Tobol (Kazakhstan), Shkupi (North Macedonia), RFS (Latvia), Dinamo Batumi (Georgia), Tirana (Albania), Ballkani (Kosovo), FCI Levadia (Estonia), Víkingur Reykjavík (Iceland), Dinamo Zagreb (Croatia), Olympiacos (Greece), Viktoria Plzeň (Czech Republic), Maccabi Haifa (Israel) and FC Zürich (Switzerland). Plus the - as yet undecided - winners of the domestic leagues in Serbia, San Marino, Slovenia and Armenia. But, definitely not Zenit St Petersburg. They have been extremely banned from the competition. Due, mainly, to the criminally-deranged activities of their nasty President (and, his very small penis). Liechtenstein is the only UEFA member nation not to have their own league and hence do not have a spot in the Champions League. Liechtensteinian club sides play in the Swiss regional leagues, with FC Vaduz currently playing in the second highest Swiss division (The Challenge League).
And finally, dear blog reader, this blogger has already bragged - on several occasions - about the significant increase in daily traffic which From The North has experienced over the last few months ... so, there's absolutely no reason whatsoever not to do so again.
Especially as, dear blog readers, an event worthy of being shouted from the very rooftops of The Stately Telly Topping Manor Plague House occurred here at From The North on Thursday afternoon. This blog's ten millionth page hit since it began in March 2006.
Ten million is'quite a lot', if you were wondering dear blog readers. And, let's face it, they can't all have arrived at this blog by accident or in a fruitless search for pornography, surely? It appears this blogger is doing something right.
So, dear blog reader, Keith Telly Topping thanks all of you for your continued patronage of From The North through the bad times and the good. And, here's to the next ten million ...

I Must Yield My Body To The Earth And, By My Fall, The Conquest To My Foe

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In a, broadly quite well-written and researched, article entitled Here's To A Coming Era Of Doctor Who Where Showrunner Russell T Davies Helps More Kids Feel Seen,Salon's Melanie McFarland makes the following, extraordinary, claim: '[Jodie] Whittaker succeeded Peter Capaldi and joined the franchise along with Chris Chibnall, who worked with her on Broadchurch and took the showrunning reins from Steven Moffat. Neither Whittaker nor Chibnall had much of an association with the wider Whovian universe.' This blogger's italics (obviously, since you're reading this on his blog). Okay firstly, Melanie, before becoming Doctor Who showrunner, Chris Chibnall wrote six episodes of the BBC's popular long-running family SF drama between 2007 and 2012 and eight episodes of its spin-off, Torchwood. Not only that but, since the 1980s The Chib his very self was an active and very vocal member of Doctor Who fandom. One who, in 1986, appeared on the BBC discussion programme Open Air as a member of the Liverpool local group of the Doctor Who Appreciation Society, criticising The Trial Of A Time Lord, especially the Terror Of The Vervoids segment and giving the writers, Pip and Jane Baker, a jolly well-deserved verbal kicking in public. He is even rumoured by some to be one of the main models upon whom the character of Whizz Kid from the 1989 Doctor Who serial The Greatest Show In The Galaxy, a - rather unsubtle - parody of obsessive fandom, was based. Secondly, anyone that uses the word 'Whovian' in any context other than a wholly ironic one does not deserve to have anything they say taken seriously; even if what they say doesn't include significant factual inaccuracies. It is, as this blogger has noted on several previous occasions, a thoroughly hateful word, made up by some American students in the late 1970s for the simple reason that Star Trek fans had a collective name for themselves so, it's about time we did too. Peter Davison, having just arrived back in the UK from an American convention in November 1983, first introduced the word to Britain during an interview with Terry Wogan on the BBC's Children In Need telethon immediately after the broadcast of The Five Doctors. Asked about the show's fans, Peter said 'I believe they call themselves Whovians' to which every single member of British Doctor Who fandom shouted at the telly: 'Huh? Do we? I don't think we do, you know, Peter!' Few Doctor Who fans would ever willingly describe themselves using this awful descriptor, at least, none with an ounce of dignity or self-respect in them (two things not usually associated with Doctor Who fandom, admittedly). And, anyone that does use it receives nothing but withering scorn and derision from the rest of us. Cos, like, we're so clever. But, in all seriousness, to any journalists that happen to be reading From The North (not a very likely happenstance, this blogger freely admits), take it from this blogger, just say 'no' to this 'Whovian' nonsense and cut it out. Thank you, in advance, for your kind co-operation in this regard.
Still on the subject of broadly well-researched and written, articles about Doctor Who with at least one huge flaw in them, Martin Belam's Hanky-Panky In The TARDIS! How A Writer's Divisive Doctor Who Movie Spent Twenty Five Years Being Hated By Fans focusing on Matthew Jacobs and the 1996 TV movie in the Gruniad Morning Star is a pretty decent effort. But, again, it makes the crass assumption that allDoctor Who fans think and speak with but one voice. No, mate. No, no, no - there are as many different shades of opinion within fandom on virtually every single aspect of Doctor Who as their are a lack of political diversity from the Middle-Class hippy Communists at the broadsheet you're writing for. The 'Doctor Who Movie Spent Twenty Five Years Being Hated By Fans' according to Martin. Really? Because, Martin, you asked all of them, didn't you? No? How jolly surprising. Colour me amazed.
This blogger did, however, really enjoy this picture which illustrated the piece, featuring 'an American Doctor Who convention.' And, yet the author couldn't even be bothered to tell us which one it was - even though the LA Marriott carpet patterntotally gave it away!
From the same newspaper, however, Rachel Aroesti's 'I'm In Awe': Trans Actor Yasmin Finney On Joining Doctor Who managed something this blogger scarcely believed possible. This is a 'broadly well-researched and written article about Doctor Who' which, for once, doesn't ruin its impact by including ludicrous sweeping claims with little or no basis in fact or ad hoc uses of the hated 'W' word. Well done Rachel.
That's also true of a similar piece (albeit, one entirely based around the same Gruniad Morning Star interview) by the Radio Times's Patrick Cremona, Doctor Who's Yasmin Finney Was "Worried" About Fandom Clashes.
And finally on the subject of Doctor Who-related articles that are worthy of a moment or two of your time, dear blog reader, you may want to check out the Nerdist website's Are We At The Edge Of A New Doctor Who Era?, written by Riley Silverman. Other than the fact that the title is chronically bad and invites the response 'yes, we are. Obviously. Next ...' The rest of the article, thankfully, justifies its existence by being really good
From The North favourite Peter Capaldi is set to appear alongside another From The North favourite, Jessica Raine, in new psychological thriller series The Devil's Hour, which will be released by Amazon Prime Video later this year. Other than a first look trailer and an initial plot synopsis, the series, written by Tom Moran and executive produced by The Lord Thy God Steven Moffat (OBE) and his good lady, Sue Vertue, has been shrouded in mystery. However, Peter has now alluded to what viewers can expect. 'The nature of the piece is quite spectacularly dark and that can be quite enjoyable. Everything starts with the scripts and Tom's scripts were wonderful and inventive and such a brilliant idea at the core. Kind of an aspect of it is that you should listen to your nightmares, because they may be communicating with you in some way.'
Still on the subject of former Time Lords, 'I have the strangest feeling that we've met before ...'
This week saw the incoming arrival of Strange New Worlds: Memento Mori at The Stately Telly Topping Manor Plague House. Probably the best episode of the series thus far; a prequel to Arena and a basic remake of Das Boot! Brilliant. (This blogger's fine fiend, Roberta Fleishman, noted that on The Ready Room one of the authors of the episode - Davy Perez - suggested that, actually, other classic submarine movies like Enemy Below, Run Silent, Run Deep and The Hunt For Red October were among his inspirations when co-writing the script.)
The BBC has apologised after a message appeared on the news channel saying 'Manchester United are rubbish.' Which, given The Scum's recent form in the Premier League some may consider to be a statement of fact. The text appeared on the news ticker at the bottom of the screen during a tennis update on Tuesday morning. Later in the morning, presenter Annita Mcveigh apologised to any supporters of The Scum who may have been offended by this. Which would be all of them, in all likelihood. Oh yes, huge areas of Essex, Wiltshire, Mumbai and Australia saw spontaneous outbursts of extreme vexation and manifest examples of kids gettin' pure-dead irked. Curiously, in Manchester itself, there was nothing but hilarity. Mcveigh said the mistake had occurred as someone was learning how to operate the ticker and was 'writing random things.' For a laugh. Another message which appeared on the ticker read simply: 'Weather rain everywhere.' Which, again, on that particular day, was factually accurate. Mcveigh told viewers: 'A little earlier, some of you may have noticed something pretty unusual on the ticker that runs along the bottom of the screen with news making a comment about Manchester United, and I hope that Manchester United fans weren't offended by it. Let me just explain what was happening: behind the scenes, someone was training to learn how to use the ticker and to put text on the ticker, so they were just writing random things not in earnest and that comment appeared. So apologies if you saw that and you were offended and you're a fan of Manchester United. "But certainly that was a mistake and it wasn't meant to appear on the screen. So that was what happened, we just thought we'd better explain that to you.' An official BBC statement subsequent added: 'There was a "technical glitch" during training with our test ticker, which rolled over to live programming for a few seconds. We apologised for any offence caused on air.' BBC new presenter and Sheikh Yer Man City fan Clive Myrie tweeted claiming that he had 'nothing to do with this!' A likely story, mate!
Jonathan Searle has been named the new police chief of Oak Bluffs - forty seven years after he appeared in Steven Spielberg's iconic Jaws filmed in the same Massachusetts town which went by the fictional name of Amity in the 1975 summer blockbuster. His appointment 'generated a big bite of buzz' (according to the New York Post) when the small town's board announced it had voted three-to-one to offer the role to the longtime community servant. 'I'm finding the whole thing quite funny myself!' Searle told the Post on Thursday on the island located south of Cape Cod. Oak Bluffs, which is home to just over five thousand full-time residents, is part of ritzy Martha's Vineyard, where Jaws was shot in 1974. In that movie, Searle and his real-life brother, Steven, memorably played two naughty pranksters who caused mass panic on the beach after swimming into the ocean with a cardboard fin.
This blogger was shocked - and stunned - if delighted to discover that one of his favourite movies turned up for a rare TV showing on Talking Pictures'The Cellar Club this week. Produced in 1968 as The Velvet House, subject to a few scattered screenings in the UK under the title The Corpse in 1971 and, later that same year, as what now appears to be its preferred international title, Crucible Of Horror in America, the movie almost never appears on TV. As far as this blogger is aware, it has never been shown in Britain on any terrestrial channel though there was at least one showing on some highly obscure satellite and/or cable channel in the late 1980s or early 1990s which is where this blogger first came across it. Almost impossible to get hold of for many years, under any title, when this blogger was writing A Vault Of Horror in 2004 and wanted, desperately, to include it, he was forced to order a video copy from the US (fortunately, The Stately Telly Topping Manor VCR at the time could accommodate both PAL and NTSC formats). It is, thankfully, now available on blu-ray in the US. However, to this day, the title has never been released in the UK on any format, presumably owing to rights issues.
If you've never seen it (and, because of its scarsity, theat's probably likely), the movie was something of a family affair (in several senses). Directed by Viktors Ritelis, it was produced by, amongst others, Gabrielle Beaumont with a screenplay by her husband, the actor Olaf Pooley, one of only a handful of people who have appeared in both Doctor Who - a scene-stealing turn in 1970's Inferno - and in the Star Trek franchise (in an episode of Voyager). Pooley also makes an appearance in the movie in a minor role. It stars Michael Gough - in one of his most brilliant performances from a career full of them - as a cruel and sadistic man whose wife (Yvonne Mitchell) and daughter (Sharon Gurney) have finally had enough of his violent tyranny and decide to do away with him. Though that's more difficult than either had first anticipated (in this regard, the movie is a minor variant on the plot of Henri-Georges Clouzot's Les Diaboliques).
The family's other member is Rupert, played by Simon Gough (Michael's son) who was Gurney's fiancée at the time (they married in 1970 before The Corpse opened). It is something of a popular myth that the couple actually met during the production of this movie. In fact, this blogger believes it's more likely they first met when Michael Gough appeared opposite Gurney's mother, Rachel, in a superb 1965 Edgar Wallace adaptation, Gerry O'Hara's Game For Three Losers - another particular favourite of this blogger.
The film's frugal fifty five thousand knicker budget was raised via London-Cannon Films, the British branch of the American distributor Cannon. This meagre amount (achieved in part, according to legend, by both Gough and Mitchell taking smaller fees than they usually commanded at this time) meant that expenses had to be minimal. An actual house - in either Wimbledon or Collier's Wood (sources vary) - was used for on-location filming, with the remainder of the movie being shot at Merton Park Studios. It was, in fact, at least one of, it not the last film in production there before the studio's closure for redevelopment as a housing estate. This was Ritelis's only movie, but he subsequently had 'a long and fruitful career as a television director' working on the likes of The Troubleshooters, Counterstrike, The Expert, The Lotus Eaters, Colditz, The Sweeney, Gangsters, Secret Army, Blake's 7 and The Aphrodite Inheritance among many other series. Filming began in March 1968; according to assistant director, Nicholas Granby, owing to prior obligations, Ritelis was forced to depart the production prior to its completion and Beaumont took on directorial responsibilities for the last weeks of filming.
The movie was, reportedly, not submitted to the British Board of Film Classification until after they had changed the threshold of the X category in July 1970 when the minimum audience-member age was raised from sixteen to eighteen. The film was given its X certification on 19 December 1971 after unspecified cuts were made to it. It was subsequently released, as The Corpse, in Britain through Grand National Pictures on a double-bill alongside a really piss-poor US slasher movie, Psycho Killer (1970). Thereafter, it screened on this double-bill in Manchester beginning on 24 April 1972.
Gurney, who is fantastic in the role on the wild, stroppy sixteen year old Jane had done lots of theatre (a role in an acclaimed production of Catch My Soul, for example) and a few TV roles prior to this. She played Madeleine in a BBC production of Nicholas Nickleby and Elfine in Cold Comfort Farm. But this was her first movie. She subsequently appeared - and was, again, terrific - in another of this blogger's favourite British horror movies, 1972's Death Line. She was, briefly, a regular in the BBC medical soap The Doctors, guest-starred in an episode of Jason King and had a small-but-crucial role in Ken Russell's Women In Love. By the mid-seventies she pretty much retired from acting to raise her and Simon's growing family and two of their four children, Daisy and Samuel also became actors.
But, it's Michael Gough who owns the picture. As this blogger wrote in A Vault Of Horror, 'First seen rubbing his hands, suggestively, on the still-warm bicycle seat of his teenage daughter, hygiene obsessed Walter Eastwood's abusive - and possibly sexual - relationship with Jane is key to the movie. When he's not beating her, he's watching her with slavering desire bathe, naked, in a river.' And, 'Has there ever been a more believable screen villain than Michael Gough's performance here? A character of malevolence and mediocrity far removed for the supernatural monsters who occupy many of the other pages in this book but, who is guaranteed to make the flesh creep as much, if not more, than any of those.' An inscrutable parody of domestic banality, The Corpse reveals the tensions and sordid details beneath the surface of traditional English Middle-Class family values. And, it does so with a sense of righteous outrage at the rampant hypocrisy it finds there, squatting in the darkness.
As has been noted by several critics, the film is, chiefly, an allegory of the overbearing nature of the patriarchy, something of a hot potato for the burgeoning feminist movement. 'Superbly directed and beautifully played,' enthused the New York Times in a contemporary review. 'For tight, merciless tension and venom, the movie is uncommonly effective and engrossing. Add the twist of a civilized [sic], very British fadeout that is the most horrifying thing of all.' The horror author and critic Kim Newman regards The Corpse as 'an extraordinary movie,' adding, in his book Nightmare Movies, that 'the vision of Middle-Class monstrosity is nearer Harold Pinter than Terence Fisher ... It may look tatty and contain enough nudity to satisfy the sleaze market, but The Corpse is a century closer to home than Hammer's cardboard mittel Europe.'
In his review in A Vault Of Horror, this blogger concluded: 'This ambitious, multi-layered little chiller may have had absolutely zero budget, but what it lacked in that department it more than made up for in terms of striking atmosphere and conceptual depth. The Corpse is not based upon the most original of concepts but it is extraordinarily well-written and superbly acted.' So, having it turn up on TV this week was a real treat.
The following day, Saturday afternoon, Talking Pictures cemented its reputation as The Stately Telly Topping Manor Plague House's channel of choice for most of the time with a very welcome showing of another of this blogger's favourite (in this case, non-horror) movies, the 1976 big-screen adaptation of The Likely Lads. Featuring Terry's cynical essay on Working Class nostalgia ('Working Class sentiment is for Working Class people who've cracked it through football or rock and roll!'), the late Mary Tamm in a state of some undress, the glorious boutique sequence and the greatest thirteen seconds in movie history (the 'In the Chocolate Box Of Life' scene, filmed at sun-kissed Tynemouth).
Another huge point in its favour is the location filming in-and-around Newcastle which is almost a character in itself. The opening sequence, for example, was shot on a piece of waste-ground opposite The Free Trade Inn at the top end of Walker Road, a mere stone's-throw from this blogger's current location (well, a stone's-throw if you're the world stone-throwing champion, admittedly; it's, actually, about half-a-mile away from The Stately Telly Topping Manor Plague House).
So, dear blog reader, with an inevitability that borders on the ludicrous, we come to that regular part of From The North dedicated to this blogger's on-going medical issues. For those who haven't been following this on-going saga which seems to have been on-going longer than capitalism and the oppression of the proletariat: This blogger spent several weeks feeling rotten; he had a week in hospital; he was discharged; he received some B12 injections; he had more injections; he, eventually, recovered his previously missing appetite; he got a diagnosis; he had a meeting with his consultant; he continued to suffer from fatigue and insomnia; he endured a second endoscopy; he had another consultation with his doctor; then he got toothache and had an extraction, which took some time to heal. This week, this blogger had another conversation with his consultant who was, mostly, pleased with the progress since we last met. Although this blogger's continued fatigue, insomnia and occasional spells of dizziness are still a cause for some (minor) concern to the medical team. So, a couple of additions tests (an ECG, for instance) have been arranged for next month and another consultation has been scheduled for the end of June.
With that malarkey safely out of the way, this blogger experienced his first social engagement in several weeks, meeting up with his fine fiend Young Malcolm for some excellent grub at the world famous Little Asia on Stowell Street on Thursday. Such as, for example, chicken and sweetcorn soup with prawn crackers whilst we discussed Hammer's odd flirtation with kung-fu movies in the early 1970s and James Bonds that never were. Also, at what point does shouting 'they all did it' during a screening of Murder On The Orient Express (any version) become a 'spoiler'per se given that the novel was published in 1934? Agatha Christie's opinion of the Margaret Rutherford Marple movies (and, how great Ron Goodwin's 'Murder She Said' is), how ITV managed to shoehorn Julia Mackenzie's Jane Marple into one of their adaptations of Why Didn't They Ask Evans?, Dorothy L Sayers astonishing use of the 'wandering point-of-view' in Gaudy Night and Muriel Spark playing with tenses in The Prime Of Miss Jean Brodie. See, we don't just throw these conversations together.
That was followed by sesame prawn toast with sweet and sour sauce as the discussion turned to the infamous Golden Turkey Awards, with specific reference to They Saved Hitler's Brain. And, various other movies with the word 'brain' in the title (Donovan's Brain, The Brain, Billion Dollar Brain et cetera).
And then, king prawn curry with egg-friend rice as we nattered away - for what seemed like hours - about the unlikeability of Jon Finch's character in Frenzy, how this blogger remembered the entire plot of the Van Der Valk episode guest-starring Lalla Ward, Lewis Collins having once been in a rock and/or roll band with Peter Egan called The Wombats whom Brian Epstein was keen to manage (they turned him down), a recently broadcast Peter Cushing documentary, Gideon's Way, people who do more research than necessary before pitching a book which has every possibility of being turned down and, for reasons far too complex to go into here, The Ghost Goes Gear. All-in-all it was quite a session (if, inevitably, rather tiring for this blogger in his current somewhat-under-the-weather state). And, just in case you were wondering dear blog reader, yes, all three courses were, indeed, really deserved.
And, finally dear blog reader, a message from the supporters of this blogger's beloved (and now, thankfully, sold) Magpies. What on Earth, you may well ask, is going on? Positivity at Newcastle United? Well, that'll never catch on.

Rather Say I Play The Man I Am

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Some major names in the history of British television gathered last Sunday (29 May) to honour the pioneering producer and TV executive the late Verity Lambert, as Doctor Who's very first director Waris Hussein and former showrunner The Lord Thy God Steven Moffat (OBE) jointly unveiled a blue plaque on the wall of Riverside Studios in Hammersmith. As the first ever female producer in the BBC drama department, Verity made a name for herself launching Doctor Who, the format of her great mentor Sydney Newman, in 1963. Across a long and prestigious subsequent career, she produced dozens of successful and fondly remembered programmes, including Adam Adamant Lives! , Take Three Girls, Budgie, The Naked Civil Servant, Rock Follies, Fox, Reilly: Ace Of Spies, The Flame Trees Of Thika, Widows, GBH, Minder, May To December and Jonathan Creek and the movie A Cry In The Dark
There was a sense of déjà vu at Riverside (the former BBC studios-turned-arts venue) as the Doctor Who Appreciation Society had already installed the same plaque in 2014 - also unveiled by Waris Hussein. However, Riverside closed shortly afterwards for redevelopment. It reopened in 2019 but had hardly got up and running before the Covid pandemic hit. During this period, DWAS held Verity's plaque for safekeeping and organised this second unveiling. Those in attendance included many of her friends, colleagues and admirers, such as Caroline Quentin, Larry Lamb, Carole Ann Ford and Anna Carteret, writer Lynda La Plante, Philip Hinchcliffe and Michael Grade. The main focus of the day was a screening of episode one of Shoulder To Shoulder, a 1974 BBC drama about the suffragette movement and a passion project for its producer, Lambert. Two of its stars Dame Siân Phillips (who played Emmeline Pankhurst) and Patricia Quinn (who played Christabel Pankhurst) formed a panel with the show's director, Hussein, together with Carole Ann Ford.
Meanwhile, dear blog reader, here is today's From The North Thought For Today.
Danish political drama and From The North favourite Borgen is back on the small screen after an almost decade-long break. Running from 2010 until 2013, Borgen had its breakthrough when Nordic dramas The Killing and The Bridge were also finding international success. The drama, broadcast to great acclaim in the UK on BBC4, followed Danish politician Birgitte Nyborg, an idealistic underdog who climbed the political ladder. There's a really good piece about the revival on the BBC News website here featuring interviews with creator Adam Price and Sidse Babett Knudsen. During Borgen's original three series, viewers watched Knudsen's character become Danish Prime Minister before founding a new political party. In the new series, Nyborg has now become Foreign Minister. Throughout all eight of the new episodes, the plot explores the fallout from discovering oil in Greenland. Nyborg faces dilemmas about climate and security. Old alliances and the relationship between Denmark and Greenland are at stake, as much larger powers - specifically, the US and China - vie for influence. Borgen went down well with critics during its initial run. 'It is more than intricate political drama: it is intimate drama, politics made human,'wrote some Middle Class hippy Communist of no consequence at the Gruniad Morning Star. 'It is about democracy and people: relationships between people, the relationship between work and home. It is about journalism, women, values, having children, not having children. It is about you and me.' Early reviews of the new episodes have also been positive. 'The whole series is looking glossier and larger-scale, helped by the more international implications of the plot,'noted Lewis Knight of the Radio Times. 'The dialogue and plotting remain fast-paced and switch between both Danish and English with as much impressive skill as Knudsen's excellent linguistic abilities.' The new series is available on Netflix.
Following the arrival of incoming preview discs at The Stately Telly Topping Manor Plague House, he's a quick review of Strange New Worlds: Spock Amok. 'This is coming dangerously close to hijinks!' Well, it's about effing time that the Star Trek franchise got around to doing a prequel to Amok Time (and, a minor one to What Are Little Girls Made Of? as a bonus). It's nice to see that Strange New Worlds has, amongst its arsenal of gifts, something which several Star Trek series since, well, Star Trek itself, have struggled to acquire - a strain of wry, slightly self-deprecating humour. (Deep Space 9 admittedly did have a bit of that as, more recently, did Discovery. But, much as this blogger loved The Next Generation, that was one series which took itself far too seriously for far too long. And as for Voyager, po-faced doesn't even begin to cover all the cracks). This blogger loved Number One's mad hair, 'Enterprise bingo' and all of the cute body-swap stuff. After five episodes, this blogger is ready to confirm that Deep Space 9 has, officially, lost its long-standing claim to be 'the Star Trek series that got good the quickest.' Though it is still, to date, the one that 'stayed good the longest.'
Meanwhile, The Man Who Fell To Earth: Moonage Daydream also arrived on The Stately Telly Topping Manor doorstep. 'Sorry, once you get to know him he's ... a blast!'Magnificent. The dialogue just sings, dear blog reader ('Purgatory is where you get the best perspective'). The soundtrack is wonderful, the direction and design simply stunning, the humour was great ('my experience with mood alteration has been ... disappointing'), Zoe Wanamaker was great ('What are the odd?', '42.6 per cent!') And, the scenes between Chiwetel and Naomie were touched with magnificence. As, indeed, is the whole series. And, the next episode looks even better on the strength of the trailer.
One of this blogger's favourite novels is John Wyndham's classic 1957 SF chiller The Midwich Cuckoos and one of his favourite movies is Wolf Rilla's 1960 adaptation of Wyndham's work, Village Of The Damned (though, John Carpenter's 1995 remake ... not so much). So, when this blogger heard that Sky was producing an eight-part TV adaptation starring From The North favourite Keeley Hawes and Max Beesley, Keith Telly Topping was properly delighted. Albeit such a provenance is not, necessarily, a guarantee of quality - another of this blogger's favourite novels is Joan Lindsay's timeless Picnic At Hanging Rock and another of his favourite movies is Peter Weir's stunning 1975 adaptation of that; however, the 2018 TV adaptation starring From The North favourite Natalie Dormer proved to be, at best, flawed-but-interesting, even if it did - just - make From The North's Best Of list for that particular year. This week, the first episode of The Midwich Cuckoos was broadcast on Sky Max and was, this blogger thought, really rather good. The reviews have been, mostly, very positive. This blogger says 'mostly' because, there's always one cheerless miserable fekker with an agenda smeared, an inch thick, all over their disgusting mush ready to spoil the party for everyone else. Step forward, then, the Gruniad Morning Star's atypical Middle Class hippy Communist vegan quiche eater, That Awful Mangan Woman and her review of the opening episode Women's Rights Are Under Attack & This Is What They Make? So, clearly no agenda whatsoever going down there, then? This blogger has, of course, found That Awful Mangan Woman's shrill and, often, hysterical bollocks for the Gruniad problematic (and, sometimes ludicrous) on many occasions in the past (there are, for instance, several such examples in last year's From The North awards. But this is probably the finest example of the utter horseshite which passes for critique in the Gruniad these days. Or, indeed, ever. This blogger has no idea whom the 'they' that Mangan whinges so furiously about are (The Patriarchy, presumably) and he must have missed the passing of a new law which forces anyone to watch specific TV programmes. Thankfully, That Awful Mangan Woman's utterly facile, nasty spew is countered by several other reviews of The Midwich Cuckoos; in the Torygraph, The Times, the Den Of Geek website and, most notably, From The North favourite Mark Kermode on the latest episode of Kermode & Mayo's Take. Looks like you're on your own in your crusade against ... whatever, Lucy. Good luck with that.
Updated to add: Shortly after this bloggerisationism update was first published, this blogger's good fiend Allan noted: 'If anything The Midwich Cuckoosis a feminist production. Whereas the original [novel] had a "lets see how they react" third person view[point] of the village this new version started like a soap and got us involved in the characters lives. How can a story that covers the responses to unexpected pregnancy not be feminist?' Which this blogger completely agrees with. Barbara Shelley always felt that Village Of The Damned didn't show enough of the women's perspective - originally said in a 1994 interview with the Scarlet Screen fanzine and confirmed to this author in a private e-mail communication in 2003 when this blogger was writing his book, A Vault Of Horror. And, that's almost certainly true - the fact that Village Of The Damned is a twenty four carat cinema masterpiece notwithstanding. The new TV adaptation, on the strength of the first episode, is most definitely a female-led story (this blogger understands three of the four writers involved in the production - Sasha Hails, Namsi Khan and Laura Lomas - are women) which is precisely why That Awful Gruniad Morning Star Woman's crass dismissal of it so got on this blogger's tit end when he read it. And, for what it's worth, the legend that is Mark Kermode agrees with us. So, you know, that's good enough for this blogger. God save us all, dear blog reader, from the whinging of Middle Class hippy Communists with an agenda.
'We're gonna be bigger than The Stones.''D'you know how many shit bands there are in London saying that right now?' Something else reviewed by Mark on the same podcast was Danny Boyle's much-anticipated Pistol - based of Steve Jones's autobiography and broadcast on 'The Home Of Punk Rock, Disney+' - along with an interview with the director by Simon Mayo. There's a splendid additional piece on the series by the BBC's Mark Savage (and, also, an interview Danny gave to another Gruniad Morning Star hack). On the strength of the first four episodes which this blogger watched at the weekend, dear blog reader, Pistol is proper terrific. Great performances - especially Toby Wallace's Jonesie, Thomas Brodie-Sangster's amazing Malcolm McLaren and Sydney Chandler's touchingly-played Chrissie Hynde, who all dominate the first episode (The Cloak Of Invisibility) and Anson Boon's mad-as-a-kennel-of-Rottweilers John Lydon and Maisie Williams's sympathetic Jordan who, between them, totally own the second (Rotten). The real-life Lydon's failed court objections to the production are rendered nonsensical, especially when one considers how sympathetically Johnny Rotten is portrayed in Pistol (for the most part). Danny reckons Lydon reportedly felt it was going to be a 'Middle Class' (hippy Communist) Gruniad Morning Star readers version of The Pistols story (which might be true but, coming from a vocal Trump supporter like Lydon, such objections are high-bloody-larious). Anson Boon plays Johnny as a stroppy, confrontational, very angry bastard but one with a genuine heart and a moral compass (especially in the third episode, Bodies, in which his relationship with the notorious Mad Pauline from Birmingham is explored). Lydon is, also, the only one out of all of them who is shown to really mean it (maaaan). Plus, there's a pretty authentic-seeming sleazy, drab and grey 1974-75 London into which Sex and those who sailed in it provided a splash of lurid colour and some sizzling dialogue (this blogger's favourite being the bit where Glen Matlock tells Steve Jones 'I'm not a rich kid, you know' and the audie3nce all think 'no, mate, but you will be!'); even the anachronistic placing of 'Who Are You?' on the (excellent) soundtrack (Bowie, T-Rex, Hawkwind, The Kinks, Iggy & The Stooges et cetera) and having 'Bodies' as part of the band's live set well before Sid replaced Glen didn't upset this blogger as they, perhaps, once would have done. Hell, it would appear, hath little of the filth and the fury that one would expect from an aged punk rocker in his late fifties who now just wants to sit in his favourite armchair with a cup of milky tea and a choccy biscuit and watch some quality drama. What have you done, Danny Boyle? What a fuckin'rotter!
The Sex Pistols, of course, once almost - infamously - appeared in a movie called Who Killed Bambi?, to be directed by, first Russ Meyer and then, equally briefly, by Jonathan Kaplan. Which, after both pulled out of the project and McLaren's ego demanded he rather than the band be the star of the movie, evetually mutated into Julien Temple's flawed-but-fascinating The Great Rock N Roll Swindle. Another popular beat combo The Be-Atles, of course, also made a couple of movies (they were quite good, you might've seen them). However, the question of their first brush with the film industry has been a hotly debated one since the mid-1990s when Sir Paul McCartney (MBE) mentioned in an interview with Q magazine, that The Be-Atles had been trying to break into movies for at least a year before they finally did and were 'in discussions' to appear in a film, pre-A Hard Day's Night. He claimed it was The Yellow Teddy Bears, a very low-budget drama made by Michael Klinger and Tony Tenser's Compton Fils, directed by Robert Hartford-Davis and starring ... no one you've ever heard of. McCartney implied that the reason The Be-Atles turned down the movie was that they were told they would be required to perform a song written for film by an outside source rather than use one of their own (plus, the money wasn't very good). This always seemed a rather unlikely proposition; firstly because the film (also known as Thrill Seekers and, fantastically, Gutter Girls in the US) was made at Shepperton Studios in the spring of 1963 when The Be-Atles were still relatively new to the general public having just had their first major hit with 'Please Please Me'. But, mainly, because of the storyline in which a clique of girls in a London school wear a small yellow teddy bear on their uniform to signify that they have lost their virginity. Linda, the girls' leader (played by Annette Whiteley), fears she may be pregnant from her window cleaner boyfriend, 'Kinky', an aspiring pop singer (Iain Gregory). It was always difficult to imagine Brian Epstein even considering the possibility of allowing The Be-Atles to become involved in such a potentially controversial feature. Although, had they done so the movie's release, in July 1963 just as Be-Atlemania was gathering momentum, would have been jolly interesting and history may have taken a very different turn. (The film, available for viewing on YouTube incidentally does, indeed, feature a nightclub sequence with a band - the, not even remotely famous - The Embers performing a rockin' little number which is, presumably, where most people who believe this story imagine The Be-Atles may have featured.)
Reportedly, the film's writers, Derek and Donald Ford, took the idea for their screenplay from a newspaper story in late 1962 (most likely in the News Of The World) about a group of schoolgirls who advertised the loss of their virginity to their friends by wearing gollywog brooches given away with jars of Robertson's Jam. The change to teddy bears was necessitated in the movie when the jam company refused to allow their trademark be used instead of snatching their hands off at the chance of some free publicity. It was a very different world in 1963, dear blog reader.
So, The Be-Atles possible involvement in such a project always seemed a remote one, especially as some versions of the movie contain quite a bit of nudity (for example in a shower-room scene), although you'll still find references to The Be-Atles almost-but-not-quite-appearance - most likely based solely on Macca's Q interview - scattered around the Interweb. Here, for instance. The mystery was finally solved upon the publication of John Hamilton's highly-regarded biography and career analysis of Tony Tenser, Beasts In The Cellar (FAB Press, 2005). The Be-Atles were, incdeed, 'in discussions' to appear in a Compton Film, just notThe Yellow Teddy Bears! In fact, it was the subsequent Saturday Night Out, made by the same Hartford-Davis/Kilinger/Tenser/Ford Borthers cabal in the autumn of 1963 and released (to little or no acclaim) in April 1964 just as The Be-Atles were on a train somewhere between Marylebone and Minehead filming A Hard Day's Night.
Saturday Night Out was shot at Shepperton and on location around London and concerned a trio of rough, tough, salty merchant seamen and several passengers disembarking from their ship at Tilbury and, subsequently, having the titular Saturday night's entertainment in the city. It's rarely seen these days but it's not bad as a period piece and a portrait of London just as it started to think about swingin'. On the IMDB trivia page for Saturday Night Out, the claim is made that 'The Beatles were offered the chance to appear in the film, but the producers were reluctant to pay the train fare from Liverpool. Another Mersey group, The Searchers, who happened to be in London, appeared instead.' This is patent nonsense, frankly and is contradicted by Beasts In The Cellar. There, it is suggested that Tony Tenser hadn't even heard of The Be-Atles at this point in time but asked his ten year old daughter about them. She said they were 'fab' and 'with it'. Which is difficult to argue with. However, Epstein played hard-ball over the appearance money and so Tenser returned to his daughter and asked if there were any other bands she liked (who might be a bit cheaper to hire).
In the event, The Searchers appear in a pub scene performing a song called, not unreasoinably, 'Saturday Night Out' (co-written by their producer, Tony Hatch). It was, subsequently, issued as the b-side of their worldwide hit version of 'Needles and Pins'. And, Bob Hartford-Davis's loss was Dick Lester's gain.
Hartford-Davis, Klinger, Tenser and the Fords subsequently went on to make the highly amusing horror movie Black Torment (1964) whilst Hartford-Davis's next brush with the world of pop music came a year later with the 'so-bad-it's-brilliant'Gonks Go Beat. The Be-Atles (a popular beat combo of the 1960s, you might've heard of them) were most definitely not invited to appear in that one.
So, dear blog reader, with the crushing inevitability of the crushingly inevitable, we come to that part of From The North dedicated to this blogger's on-going medical malarkey. For those who haven't been following this on-going saga which seems to have been on-going longer than ... a very long thing: This blogger spent several weeks feeling pure-dead horrible; he had a week in hospital; was discharged; received some B12 injections; then more injections; eventually recovered his missing appetite; got a diagnosis; had a consultants meeting; annoyingly continued to suffer from fatigue and insomnia; endured a second endoscopy; had a second consultation with his doctor; got toothache; had an extraction, which took ages to heal. Last week, this blogger had another conversation with his consultant. A couple of tests (an ECG, for instance) have been arranged for next month in an effort to get to the bottom of the fatigue symptoms (other than this blogger being, in the words of The Sex Pistols, a lazy sod) and another consultation has been scheduled for the end of June. Nothing further to report this week except for a marginal, though somewhat annoying, increase in this blogger's occasional bouts of swoony lightheadedness. Which was off-set, somewhat, by this really deserved injection of carbs, protein and calories.
And, also, this one. Also really deserved.
And, indeed, this one. Normally, this blogger tends to be far too tired by late afternoon to do much other than very basic cooking but this Friday being one of his (marginally) better days, here is an illustration of us Friday Jubilee Bank Holiday really deserved dinner at The Stately Telly Topping Manor Plague House. ASDA basmati rice, ALDI lemon and pepper breaded king prawns and Wagamama raisukoree Thai style curry (the latter was so ferocious that this blogger could, see through time for several hours afterwards). God bless Her Maj for living long enough so that one of her subjects could experience such foreign food malarkey ...
Earlier in the week, this blogger received an e-mail from an (occasional) dear blog reader - hello Roy - who was enquiring as to why, exactly, From The North has its comments section permanently turned off. Keith Telly Topping explained, wearily, that this was because of the unwanted attentions of this blogger's rude and abusive online stalker a couple of years ago together with a couple of cases of spam-bombing and foul-mouthed outbursts from several, let's not beat about the bush here dear blog reader, arseholes. It's sad that this blogger was forced into such a situation as From The North had a couple of semi-regular correspondents whose below-the-line comments were usually worth reading. But, frankly, avoiding the aggravation of dealing with idiots with anger-management issues was becoming more trouble than it was worth.
And, speaking of idiots with anger-management issues, this blogger was particularly taken with this thigh-slappingly hilarious story on Yahoo. Man, Twenty One, Breaks In To Dallas Museum Of Art & Causes Five Million Dollars Damage Because He Was 'Angry At His Girlfriend'. Dallas Police documents included a statement from the museum, which read: 'This was an isolated incident perpetrated by one individual acting alone, whose intent was not theft of art or any objects on view at the museum. However, some works of art were damaged and we are still in the process of assessing the extent of the damages.' The spokesperson added: 'While we are devastated by this incident, we are grateful that no one was harmed.' The museum suffered damage previously during an incident where a truck-mounted crane fell on the building's roof, injuring the operator and narrowly missing a sculpture outside.
Another 'you couldn't make it up'-type story was Trader Working From Home Wiped Out Three Hundred Billion Euros In Stocks After Adding Extra Zero. Citigroup, the bank involved, is still reportedly calculating the losses from the so-called 'fat finger' mistake but the bank is expected to 'take a hit of at least fifty million bucks,' according to Bloomberg.
This week's From The North Headline Of The Week award goes to the staffer at the Ipswich Star who tweeted this. It's the 'for crimes' that makes it art.
Patricia Brake, best known for her roles in Porridge and the ITV drama Manhunt, has died aged seventy nine after being diagnosed with cancer, her family has said. Her agent, Scott Marshall Partners, said that Patricia would be 'sadly missed' by her friends, family, colleagues and fans. Brake's sixty-year career saw her play roles in Coronation Street, Emmerdale and EastEnders. But she was best known to viewers in the 1970s for her role in Porridge. Patricia played Ingrid, the daughter of Ronnie Barker's Fletcher and she reprised the same role in the sequel, Going Straight, alongside Barker, Richard Beckinsale and Nicholas Lyndhurst. Alongside the Somerset-born actor's cockney accent = a distinctive quality she brought to many comedy roles - Brake caught the eye of the television critic Clive James for her 'fluffy but compelling sexiness.' He added that she played Ingrid 'with all the lowlife zing that cockney sparrers of stage and screen are traditionally supposed to display but never do.' Over the years, she had roles in Midsomer Murders, Doctors, Casualty, Holby City, 2point4 Children and Eldorado. She worked with the Two Ronnies and Morecambe and Wise and in the late 1970s was seen every Saturday night as Eth in The Glums. Born in Bath in 1942, she went to study at the Bristol Old Vic Theatre School when she was sixteen. She found success in repertory theatre and joined The Royal Shakespeare Company in Stratford when still a teenager. During that season, she played Hermia in Peter Hall's A Midsummer Night's Dream, alongside Dames Judi Dench and Diana Rigg. She made her TV debut in the 1961 Associated-Rediffusion series Home Tonight opposite David Hemmings. Her CV also included appearances in No Hiding Place, Lorna Doone, Emergency Ward Ten, This Man Craig, The Ugliest Girl In Town, Z Cars, Play For Today, Dolly, Hunter's Walk, Second Time Around, Forget Me Not, Mister Big, A Sharp Intake of Breath, Fat, Only When I Laugh, The Bounder, Mann's Best Friend, Tickle On The Tum, The Little & Large Show, The Upper Hand and McCready & Daughter. She continued to work until last year when she played a rape victim in Manhunt. She also worked in shows such as Truth Seekers by Nick Frost and Defending The Guilty by Alex McBride. Patricia's first marriage was to actor Robert McBain while she subsequently married Michael Kennedy. She is survived by the children from her first marriage, Jon and Hannah, three stepchildren - Angus from her first marriage and Sarah and Gavin from her second - and several grand-children.

"I Don't Like Where You Come From, It's Just A Satellite Of London"

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Welcome, dearest blog readers, to the latest From The North bloggerisationisms update in the area. It is, of course, all of the usual rubbish but it's one of the few things in this country at the moment that doesn't cost very much.
We start off with a quick note that the last From The North bloggerisationisms update received an 'edited to add' segment this week when some additional information concerning The Be-Atles (a popular beat combo of the 1960s, you might've heard of them) and their non-appearance in Compton Film's 1963 movie Saturday Night Out came to light. This blogger's fiend Young Malcolm once interviewed the movie's producer, Tony Tenser and the story Tenser told him was something of a variant on the one mentioned on From The North last time around. They're close, but different enough to be worthy of highlighting. Tenser also told, essentially, the same version of his story on one of his DVD commentaries on The Tigon Collection box-set in 2005. Of course, the acclaimed Be-Atles historian and biographer, Mark Lewisohn is currently working on the second volume of his definitive - and massive - Be-Atles biography, All These Years (tentatively scheduled for publication sometime next year, which will cover 1963 to 1966). So, one imagines, this subject will be dealt with in Mark's usual forensic detail there.
As this blogger has previously noted, dear blog reader, you may believe that you are cool. You may even be cool. But, know this, you will never - not ever - be as a cool as That There George Harrison in a black poloneck posing with his Aston Martin DB5. Sorry, but it's The Law.
According to the photographer, Henry Grossman, George's son was so moved upon seeing this photo that he burst into tears. Entirely understandable but it does, rather, raise one additional question. If Dhani bubbled at that (and, why wouldn't you?), God only knows what happened when he saw his dad sitting on the bonnet of his E-Type Jag in 1964. (This blogger needs to thank to his most excellent fiend, Jan, for supply some additional information and for confessing that 'Harrison 1964 to 1966 is my Kryptonite [and] so are vintage 1960s cars.')
As for what constitutes this blogger's Kryptonite, dear blog reader, it involves, red hair, leatherwear and a sportscar. Keith Telly Topping is a man of simple (but, very specific) tastes. Oh, the lady in question should also, if at all possible, have absolutely appalling taste in men. That's a deal-breaker. 
Filming on the Doctor Who Sixtieth Anniversary episode is, currently, continuing apace with the DoctorWhoTV website producing a - potentially spoiler-crammed - piece on the latest news and all the speculation that's fit to print (and, some that isn't). So, as ever, if you're at all bothered about spoilerisation-type-malarkey, dear blog reader (and this blogger is aware that some people definitely are), then you might want to skip the next couple of bits.
Still here, dear blog readers? Good. Tell you what, let's talk about those who've left to avoid being spoilerised behind their backs whilst they're away. That'll be good for a laugh.
Anyway, if you're still reading this, according to the previously mentioned DoctorWhoTV website, 'UNIT will be back in full force in this story and they have a new logo to boot.'
Personally, this blogger doesn't think sticking the boot into logos is a very nice thing to do, but he's probably alone in that belief. 'Second,' the website adds, 'more intriguingly, [Russell Davies] might be bringing to screen a little-known monster from a Doctor Who Fourth Doctor comic - The Wrarth Warriors.''The Who?' this blogger hears you collectively bellow as one, dear blog reader. No, The Who were a popular beat comb of the 1960s (and beyond), you might've heard of them. The Wrarth Warriors, on the other hand, were not. The Screen Rant website provides a helpful explanation: 'If the speculation turns out to be true, it gives additional weight to rumors [sic] that [Russell Davies'] new version of Doctor Who will be more like a comic book.' The photos in question come from a night shoot in Cardiff involving the cast and a black cab. Footage - circulated on social media - shows a stunt driver dressed in David Tennant's costume driving a white furry creature around in the cab. Another much-shared video saw an actor in an insectoid costume being escorted to the filming location underneath an umbrella. 'Both creatures will sound familiar to long-term readers of Doctor Who comics,' adds the website. And, indeed, they do - the fluffy white creature in the taxi and the insectoid seem reminiscent of creatures from a comic strip, originally published in 1980 in the pages of what was, then, Doctor Who Weekly. Doctor Who& The Star Beast introduced Beep The Meep, a rabbit-like creature with a dark side. And, a sodding big space gun. The story also introduced The Wrarth Warriors, intergalactic insect police whose mission is to bring The Meeps to justice (a bit like The Judoon, only with pincers). 'The ridges on the back of the costume caught on camera and the presence of the aforementioned fluffy white Beep-style costume heavily suggests that these comic creations are about to make an exciting Doctor Who on-screen debut after forty two years,'Screen Rant claims. All of this is entirely possible, Big Rusty being a noted fan of the well-remembered comic strip in question. And he is, of course, the man who created the equally cute-but-deadly Adipose. 
Potential spoiler alert ends. Hello, everyone back again? Ter-rif-fic.
And now, dear blog reader, it's review time. Starting with Strange New Worlds: Lift Us Up Where Suffering Cannot Reach. 'Your new uniform is very ... yellow!' This blogger quite enjoyed this one, though not quite as much as last week's really funny episode. This was a bit more old-school Star Trek (with a large dollop of Bertolucci's The Last Emperor spooned on top, an inch thick, for good measure). We'll call this episode 'functional and workmanlike' with a couple of genuinely great moments on the one hand and hope, on the other, that the next episode goes back to being surprising and different.
The Man Who Fell To Earth: Changes. 'Here on Earth, the amount of choices humans allow themselves is dizzying.' This blogger keeps on expecting each week that the next episode of The Man Who Fell To Earth might, just, be the first substandard one. And, it never happens. Life-affirming, funny, complex, thrilling, perceptive, high-concept, touching, beautiful ... but never, yet, substandard. 'I have learned that joy has a price.' London has never looked so pretty. Or so alien. So, what did we learn from this episode, dear blog reader? Well, we learned that if you give Chiwetel Ejiofor magnificent lines of dialogue all episode, he'll perform them, magnificently, all episode (but then, we kind of knew that anyway). The episode was like a Charlie Parker riff (a metaphor which it took quite literally at several points), going off at all sorts of tangents but always returning to a basic - call-and-response - core. Humanity is, the episode claims, jazz. Because, as the episode also suggests, music itself is mathematical. 'He needed a lot of electrical interference so he created a tornado! Fuck, is he dropping houses of people's sisters too?' Again, the dialogue is never-less-than wonderful ('Aren't you an alcoholic?''Yeah. Hence the drinking!') From The North favourite Montserrat Lombard and Jimmi Simpson almost-but-not-quite steal the episode in one scene. Sarah Hadland nearly steals it in two. But, Chiwetel owns it throughout (apart from all the bits that Clarke Peters and Naomie Harris own). 'The burden is love. You don't understand.''I'm trying to.' My advise to the producers is to take their own words and make them into their own special mantra: 'If you fuck this one up, it's an actual sin!' Best TV drama of the year, so far, dear blog reader? Christ, yeah.
Nicola Bryant has warned people that attended an SF convention in Great Yarmouth recently to take a Covid test after she tested positive for the potentially deadly virus. Nicola attended the two-day Great Yarmouth Comic-Con at the town's racecourse last weekend before discovering that she was, you know, diseased. She had appeared at the convention alongside Colin Baker and Christopher Biggins. Who has never been in Doctor Who so what the frig he was doing there is anyone's guess. All of us here at From The North wish Nicola a jolly speedy recovery and hope that she is, soon, no longer infectious.
And, speaking of former Doctor Who cast members currently having a bit of a 'mare, John Barrowman has described 'carnage' as a car ploughed into pedestrians in Berlin near where Barrowman was standing at the time. 'My friend Mikey Kay told us to sit by a tree just in case anything else happens because it's something that's between us and any other vehicles that might come,' Barrowman was reported as saying by the South Wales Argus. The incident is believed to have seen at least one person killed and eight others injured. Taking place near the popular Kurfuerstendamm shopping boulevard in the West of the German capital, police spokesperson Martin Dams said that the suspected driver of the vehicle has been detained. Barrowman later told the BBC News website that the car had careened through tables of people sitting outside having breakfast, before smashing into the storefront. 'It was just horrific,' he said. 'I saw somebody being resuscitated, I saw somebody being literally thrown onto a stretcher and put into an ambulance.'
'We're not into music, we're into chaos.' This blogger mentioned in the last From The North update how much he enjoyed the early episodes of Danny Boyle's Pistol. There have been some rather sniffy reviews from the usual suspects, of course, but it seems this blogger was not alone in finding something to enjoy. Take the Metro'sJosh Stephenson for one: 'Pistol kicks off with a David Bowie fantasy, a spot of light thieving and then a high-speed car chase - and it doesn't take its foot off the accelerator from that moment. Danny Boyle's ode to The Sex Pistols will certainly get your blood pumping ... As a whistle-stop tour of punk history, it certainly covers most of the bases. Despite a lively script from Baz Luhrmann's frequent collaborator, Craig Pearce, this is very much a Danny Boyle passion project. The irrepressible director hasn't been this twitchy since Trainspotting and at times it can be a little off-putting as Pistol is edited to within an inch of its life. There are frequent cutaways, bundles of vault footage spliced in and the whole show is shot in 4:3 aspect ratio to really hammer home that this is set in the 1970s. But, by that same token, I'll be darned if it isn't entertaining. Pistol moves at such a clip and with such a restless energy that it's impossible not to be dragged along with it - even if you are kicking and screaming at it to slow the heck down occasionally. But let's address the elephant in the room: can Pistoltruly be punk? This is the question that is going to inspire a million think pieces up-and-down the land and, yeah, they have a point. Danny Boyle is a multi-millionaire with a string of high-profile movies under his belt, it's a show launching on Disney of all places (you simply cannot be more establishment than that) and Pistols frontman John Lydon has declared it, gulp, Middle-Class. You can't really argue with any of those points - but we would argue with the framing.' Yeah. What he said.
This blogger, incidentally, has a new favourite scene from Pistol - from episode four, the gloriously rude-titled Pretty Vaaaycunt. We find The Pistols on tour in the North and they arrive at a very nice-looking hotel in Whitby where they've been booked to play. They're met by a charming, eager-to-please receptionist, Bernadette, who walks with them through the hotel, saying that they'll be performing after the disco and that they're free to use the buffet until then (which is useful since McLaren's only given the roadie, Boogie, enough money to cover petrol and accommodation, not food. Meaning Jonesie's had to go shoplifting). She tells them that the North Yorkshire Hairdressers' Association are 'beside themselves with excitement' and then notes 'I haven't actually heard your music, but I've read a lot about you.' Bernadette then leaves them to attack the buffet with gusto. We hard-cut to a little later, the dance floor is packed with ladies from the North Yorkshire Hairdressers' Association grooving around their handbags to 'Boogie Nights'. The disco ends, The Pistols come on and launch into 'Pretty Vacant' and the dance floor immediately clears ... except for one guy, with an anarchy symbol hand-drawn on his shirt. Soon, he's joined by a girl in pink lycra pants with heavy mascara.
Suddenly Jonesie says, 'Hey, it's Bernadette' (indeed it is, we've just seen her getting made up in the toilets). A smile breaks out on cynical Mister Rotten's face. 'This one's for Bernadette and her boyfriend' he says as the band plow into the next song. The cherry on the cake is that the song they chose is 'Satellite', a particular favourite of this blogger. It's not one of The Pistols' better known numbers (it's the b-side of 'Holidays In The Sun') but it's probably the closest The Pistols ever got to a proper, honest-to-God love song (albeit, a bit of a left-field one). The scene is beautiful and it reminded this blogger of something Elvis Costello once said in an interview about what touring was like in the early punk period when you'd turn up in a town and the audience such gigs attracted would be mostly curious, rather dismissive, punters plus 'about three kids in bin-liners' who were trying to create their own version of The Bromley Contingent. And were basing what to wear on what they saw was going on in London via the NME. That's also, in part, what 'Satellite' deals with ('Suburban kid, you got no name', 'You try and join the scene but you're too obscene'); as Lydon himself once noted - this was before he became a vile, Trump-supporting bigot - 'It's the story of the travelling nonsense, around the satellite towns and picking up enough money to survive for a day or two. We had to do it, but in a way, that's what built The Sex Pistols crowd. They came from all those godforsaken new towns; Milton Keynes, St Albans. As bad as it was in London for young people, they had nothing at all in the satellite towns. No social scene.' See, once upon a time, he was a functioning human being - something that Anson Boon's superb portrayal of him in Pistoldoes remind the viewer of far better than anything Lydon himself says or does these days. Now, reportedly, having failed to stop the production, he's got his lawyers checking it for inaccuracies. And, it is claimed, the man who wrote the lyrics for 'God Save The Queen' and 'Anarchy In The UK' now thinks the Her Maj is lovely, believes anarchy is a 'terrible idea' and, is being generally obnoxious and twatty about pretty much everyone and everything. So, no change there, then.
Considerable congratulations are due to the Epic Stream website and their writer, Arianne Gift, for the article (if you can describe a load of ludicrously speculative bollocks as such) Pistol Season Two Release Date, Spoilers & Update: News Bits You Should Know About Potential Sequel. Which is a quite stunning example of the old journalistic stand-by, 'I'm getting paid by the word so I'm going to use eight hundred of the fekkers where six ("there isn't going to be one") would do.' Sample text: 'It's undeniable that a Pistol season two is unlikely to happen [this blogger's italics], whether or not Danny Boyle directs it. The show was intended to be a mini-series and it did an excellent job of portraying The Sex Pistols' rise and demise. Stranger things have happened and it's likely that FX will approve a second season of Pistol, which will center [sic] on the band's split.' You mean, the band's split that was already covered in the last third of the final episode, Arianne? 'Even if it were given the green light, Pistol season two is unlikely to be released before the spring of 2024.' Or, in other words, there isn't going to be one. Mind you, this was a band that once released a compilation LP called Flogging A Dead Horse so, you never know ... Yes, actually, you do - there isn't going to be one!
On a (somewhat) related theme, in the last bloggerisationism update, the segment on Pistol used a very well-known and widely reproduced photograph of some of the staff and patrons of Sex to illustrate it. This very one, in fact.
It features, as you can probably spot, the (in)famous King's Road shop's co-owner, the fashion designer and, now, Dame Vivienne Westwood (far right ... a political position, incidentally, presently occupied by Mister Lydon), the late and much-lamented Jordan (second right, baring one of her bare boobies for the camera), future rock-Goddess Chrissie Hynde (third right, baring her shapely bum) and the lonely boy himself, Steve Jones (far left, wearing a tits t-shirt and a cheeky grin). The chap in the middle, with a pair of lurid red strides and, seemingly, having his own sex pistol well and truly fondled is the very excellent Alan Jones, then a regular DJ at early Pistols gigs and a friend of the band and, particularly, Sid Vicious; these days, he's a highly-respected film critic, author, broadcaster and acknowledged expert on the Horror genre. However, if you were reading the Gruniad Morning Star in November 2017 when an interview with Jordan That's Me In The Picture used this image, the identity of the rather fetching-looking redhead in a rubber dress sandwiched between the Jones boys and giving Alan's groin a squeeze was said to be 'unknown'. Actually, she isn't unknown at all, her name was (and, presumably, still is) Danielle Lewis and she was a regular customer at Sex during that period. A dear blog reader who asked to remain anonymous (hi, Stephanie!) asked this blogger after the last blog was published where this photo came from. It was, in fact, part of a David Dagley shoot for the soft core porn magazine Forum for their June 1976 issue as part of an article written by Len Richmond called, rather wittily, Buy Sexual. An interview with Richmond, scans of the full article and further photos from the session, including Danielle subjecting Chrissie, Jordan and Viv's asses to a dose of, ahem, submission - all in the name of publicity, obviously - can be seen in a splendid 2016 piece at the Flashbak website, which you can check out here
Insomnia having driven this blogger from his stinkin' pit again (a regular occurrence at The Stately Telly Topping Manor Plague House these days), this blogger stumbled on the first episode of UFO - Identified - in an early morning broadcast on The Horror Channel on Tuesday. Apparently, they're showing the whole series in an 8am slot. Presumably, just to remind everyone what a genuinely great series it was. Gabrielle Drake in a purple wig, Benny Cumberbatch's mum, futurist cars like something off The Jetsons and the ladies on Skydiver wearing string vests. What's not to love?
Or, to put it another way ...
Unfortunately, that was immediately followed on The Horror Channel by an early episode of Space: 1999. Just to remind us that not everything Gerry Anderson did was, actually, good.
Back to UFO and, because The Horror Channel seems to be showing the series in the ATV transmission order rather than production order (which, broadly speaking, makes more sense), Thursday morning saw a broadcast of The Cat With Ten Lives.
This blogger has always loved that particular episode, one of the maddest of mad plots in a series full of mad plots. Magnificent over-acting from the always reliably-bonkers Vladek Sheybal, a delightfully-wired Alexis Kanner and, of course, that darned cat! It was made during the second recording block but was broadcast third in the series broadcast order so, therefore, there's no Gabrielle Drake but plenty of Wanda Ventham instead. Logic Let Me Introduce You To This Window moment: Why does Jim Regan (Kanner) knock on his own front door when returning home from Moonbase? Doesn't his (soon-to-be-abducted-by-aliens) wife trust him with a key?
By the way, dear blog reader, has anyone else ever noticed how uncannily alike the Moonbase habitat pods and an Adidas Telstar®™ (that thing this blogger always claims his brain is the size of) appear to be? Just Keith Telly Topping then ...?
Apropos nothing-in-particular other than this blogger suddenly remembering part of a meandering (but, enjoyable) conversation he had with his good fiend Young Malcolm two or three lunches ago at Little Asia. This was with regard to Sherlock Holmes adaptations. This blogger has noted a few times in the past that he tends to, at least in part, base how much he enjoys a particular adaptation on how well he feels John Watson has been played in it. As the late Tim Pigott-Smith (who played both Holmes and Watson in different stage productions) once said in a rather good BBC2 Forty Minutes documentary (1987's The Case Of Sherlock Holmes), Watson's often been given a bit of a rough deal in many versions (he is, after all, supposed to be twenty nine years old in A Study In Scarlet). This blogger believes that John Watson is one of the greatest literary characters ever created - an ordinary man witness to extraordinary events - but, he is easy to get completely wrong if you play him, simply, as a comic foil. So, this blogger tends to prefer either the younger 'man of action'/'Watson, fetch your gun' type performances or somewhat more cerebral older ones rather than a presentation of him as, well, an fool, basically. In the case of the latter, step forward, for instance, Nigel Stock in the 1960s BBC Peter Cushing series; a man who seems in genuine danger of being unable to ties his own shoelaces and who often looked as startled as someone who has just discovered a hamster has run up his trouser leg. Nigel, to be fair, did make something of a career playing this sort of (ahem) stock character - blithering idiots, basically. Him tripping over his own feet and giving the location of the great escape tunnel away to Ze Chermans thus stopping Ian Chesterton from getting out of Stalag Luft III for example. This blogger would include Nigel Bruce in the same category but, the last time he expressed less-than-satisfaction with Mister Bruce's performance on his (old) Facebook page, The Lord Thy God Steven Moffat (OBE) took umbrage at this, chided this blogger to within an inch of his life for such foolish foolishness and, effectively, bullied this blogger into buying the complete Rathbone/Bruce collection on DVD. Which, to be fair, was a kindness to Keith Telly Topping in the long-run. Particularly as this blogger purchased the box-set dirt-cheap on Amazon! Therefore, this blogger has come to, if not exactly love Mister Bruce's Watson then, at least, learn to live with it. Anyway, this blogger's favourite takes on the roles include Ian Hart (in one very good TV adaptation and, him aside, one stinking awful one); David Burke and, then, Edward Hardwicke in the superb Granada/Jeremy Brett series (that goes without saying, really); André Morell (absolutely superb opposite Cushing in Hammer's Hound Of The Baskervilles), Donald Houston (in the very under-rated A Study In Terror), Colin Blakely (possibly this blogger's favourite Watson of all in Billy Wilder's The Private Life Of Sherlock Holmes. 'Doctor Watson, he is your ... glass of tea, yes?'); Bobby Duvall (in the, also under-rated, The Seven Per-Cent Solution); James Mason (in Murder By Decree, particular the 'you've squashed my pea!' sequence); Donald Churchill (in a little-seen 1980s TV movie version of Hound opposite Ian Richardson's Holmes); John Mills (as an old-but-wise Watson in The Mask Of Death), young Mister Freeman of course (in Sherlock. You knew that, right?) and, for sending the whole 'Watson is an complete moron' thing up to the nth degree, Arthur Lowe (opposite John Cleese in the even more little-seen The Strange Case Of The End Of Civilisation As We Know It ... And I Feel Fine). Bill Paterson was pretty good in the Baker Street Irregulars TV series too, as was Jude Law in the two Guy Ritchie movies and Donald Pickering in an Anglo-Polish TV series - Sherlock Homes & Doctor Watson - made in the late 1970s which this blogger never even knew the existence of until Young Malcolm pointed Keith Telly Topping in its direction of YouTube). This blogger is sure he's probably missed some decent ones - though, Patrick Macnee giving his best for the cause in the thoroughly rotten Sherlock Holmes In New York (opposite a woefully miscast Roge Moore), sadly, isn't one of them. Patrick was, thankfully, much better in the two Harry Alan Towers-produced Holmes TV movies he made with Christopher Lee in the early 1990s. For additions, suggestions, comments (or abuse), dear blog reader, please start your own blog and do your own list! It's what the Interweb is there for.
This blogger recently wrote about the joy of the rarely-seen British horror movie The Corpse turning up on Talking Pictures. It seems it's not just Talking Pictures that's doing a service for fans of British horror and SF movies of the late 1960s. Another rarity from the same era, Gerry Levy's 1969 curiosity The Body Stealers (also known as Thin Air) was shown on The Horror Channel this week (bizarrely, in the middle of Wednesday afternoon).
This was made by Tigon Films, run by Tony Tenser who has also been the subject of a recent From The North piece about his previous production company, Compton Films. (This blogger doesn't just throw these things together, you know?) The movie features a pre-Barratt Homes adverts Patrick Allen, Sean Connery's brother, George Sanders wondering whatever the Hell happened to his film career, two of this blogger's favourite actresses, Hilary Dwyer and Sally Faulkner and a reused flying saucer from Daleks' Invasion Earth 2150 AD. True story.
Prior to a previous TV showing, Alan Jones (yes, him again. See above) writing in Radio Times gave The Body Stealers but one star out of five, calling it a 'talky, laughably low-budget and hopelessly inept clone of Invasion Of The Body Snatchers.' All of which is completely true (he was always a perceptive lad, that Alan Jones). But it was also, undeniably, a right good laugh.
How can one not admire a movie made for about twenty pee which has a trailer claiming it to be 'a masterpiece of suspicion and suspense'? That's, surely, worth a viewing on bare-faced-cheek value alone.
Interestingly, that same day, insomnia again drove this blogger from his kip early and he turned on The Stately Telly Topping Manor Plague House widescreen TV at something like 5.30am, catching the last few minutes of one of Tony Tenser's earlier productions, The Black Torment (1964) on Talking Pictures. Vaguely reminiscent of Hitchcock's Rebecca (albeit with a fraction of either the production values or the quality) The Black Torment was, as this blogger wrote in his book A Vault Of Horror, 'a basic bodice-ripper melodrama shorn of Hammer's literary pretensions or Amicus's novel casting ideas. At heart, it's a reasonably stylish period costume drama with lavish sets and lots of good actors doing their best with a hack script. (Patrick Troughton's Oirish, beggorah, sor accent is particularly noteworthy in this regard.) The film's dialogue is often trite ... and the plot is shallow and somewhat anaemic. Yet the film is utterly impossible to dislike, overcoming its several limitations with a pugnacious Byronesque swagger.'
One claim concerning the movie which this blogger alluded to in A Vault Of Horror (where The Black Torment had the misfortune to be chronologically sandwiched between two of this blogger's favourite movies, horror or otherwise, The Masque Of The Red Death and Doctor Terror's House of Horrors): Many years later, Derek Ford (who co-wrote the script with his brother, Donald) alleged in an interview with Shivers magazine that, with production falling behind schedule, Tony Tenser simply ripped ten pages from the script and told the director, Bob Hartford-Davies, 'Now, you're back on schedule!''The fulcrum of the plot is what he ripped out,' noted Ford, sadly. This appears to be an apocryphal story (and, indeed, it has been described as such by The Black Torment's cinematographer, Peter Newbrook) until one actually watches the movie. A number of scenes do, indeed, seem to be missing: Notably, there is a sudden change in the characterisation of Elizabeth (Heather Sears). On her second day in her new home and, with no prior warning that she is even a little bit upset, Elizabeth hysterically tells her husband, Richard (John Turner) that he is not the man she married and that there is 'evil at work in the house.' Whether this was down to, as Ford claimed, the removal of certain important scenes or, simply, due to bad writing in the first place, we shall probably never know.
Back on Talking Pictures, Friday Night saw another Brit-horror rarity getting an airing as part of their The Cellar Club strand (immediately after one of this blogger's favourites, Hammer's years-ahead-of-its-time The Plague of The Zombies). Pete Walker's The Flesh & Blood Show (1972) was an early effort from the future director of House Of Whipcord, Frightmare and House Of Mortal Sin, all three of which this blogger rates very highly. The Flesh & Blood Show, with a script by Alfred Shaughnessy, isn't as good as those (or, indeed, as good as his earlier Die Screaming, Marianne for that matter) but it manages to overcome the limitations of its miniscule budget and features a fine cast - including Ray Brooks, Jenny Hanley, Luan Peters, Patrick Barr, Robin Askwith, Candace Glendenning, Judy Matheson and Jess Conrad - all giving it their best shot; this blogger really enjoyed seeing it again for the first time in, probably, the best part of two decades. As with most of Walker's work, it was somewhat spat-upon by 'serious' critics on its initial release, but his work has been re-evaluated in recent years and he now has something of a cult following amongst the Horror cognoscenti.
Now, of course, we come to that inexcusable part of From The North dedicated solely to this blogger's on-going medical thingies. For those who haven't been following this on-going saga which seems to have been on-going longer than ... this century: This blogger spent several weeks feeling pure-dead horrible; had a week in hospital; was discharged; received B12 injections; then more injections; recovered his appetite somewhat; got a diagnosis; had a consultants meeting; continued to suffer from fatigue and insomnia; endured another endoscopy; had another consultation; got toothache; had an extraction; which took ages to heal and had yet another conversation with his consultant.
Fishing for sympathy, dear blog reader? This blogger doesn't even understand the concept.
Keith Telly Topping was off to Church Walk early on Friday morning to receieve his three-monthly B-12 infusion (can it really be slightly over three months since Keith Telly Topping got out of the hospital, dear blog readers? It only seems like ... two-and-a-half months). He was supposed to be seeing Nurse Janice whom this blogger went to school with sometime last century but, she was off (Keith Telly Topping suspects that she took one look at her appointments for this week, thought 'oh no! Not him!' and, promptly, had a day on the sick.) Instead, this blogger saw the lovely Sister Sarah who administered the very painful jab. And no, this blogger is not being a big baby, it goes straight into the muscle and, therefore, hurts like jimbuggery. So, please be kind to this blogger, he's feeling a bit delicate at present.
Thereafter, purely due to this blogger having a bus pass for the day, there were brief stops at ALDI and Morrisons for some essential Stately Telly Topping Manor Plague House supplies (plus, in the case of the latter, some extremely necessary brecky).
Arriving home, totally pure-dead cream-crackered, this blogger briefly considered that he should probably get Stacey the Stately Telly Topping Manor Plague House strimmer out sometime over this weekend since the very unmanicured lawns of The Stately Telly Topping Manor are looking like they're in need to a damned-good seeing-to. Indeed, anything which tries to grown in that there jungle (weeds apart) has the life expectancy of the average Spinal Tap drummer. And, an equally bewildering array of reasons for shuffling off this mortal coil. So, this blogger will probably attempt to do some work on it on Sunday if he's feeling up to the task and hasn't spontaneously combusted by then. If you, subsequently, hear that yer actual Keith Telly Topping has been the subject of a 'bizarre gardening accident,' dear blog reader, you will know what to blame that on. And remember, you can't dust for vomit.
This blogger hasn't had Walter the Stately Telly Topping Manor Plague House wok out of the cupboard for what seems like forever so, on Monday, he thought to his very self - 'Keith Telly Topping,' he thought - 'it's about time Walter got put to the good use for which he was always intended since this day's trip to Morrisons did involve the purchase of mushrooms, spring onions, prawns, garlic, black pepper and basmati rice.' So, here's a before shot ...
And and after ...
Meanwhile, on Friday evening, for us supper at The Stately Telly Topping Manor Plague House, a fluffy two-egg mushroom omelette with lightly buttered toast and a nice milky cup of Rosie was the order of the day.
On 6 April (yes, that is, indeed, almost exactly nine bloody weeks ago), this blogger rang Sky to see if he could get his monthly TV and telephone package reduced in price (as he tends to do about once every eighteen months or so). They, very kindly, said that they would be quite prepared for this eventuality and, furthermore, even though Keith Telly Topping hadn't asked for it, they offered him, free of charge, a new and updated, super-doopah-fast Interweb router due to Keith Telly Topping being a long-term customer (ever since the BSkyB days, in fact). The bills changed within days (saving this blogger slightly over a tenner a month, which was nice) but, the router didn't turn up at The Stately Telly Topping Manor Plague House. This, despite four separate e-mail contacts with the company (and then, four separate phone calls back to this blogger from different individuals at Sky of increasing levels of importance, this blogger imagines, trying to satisfy his concerns). All of these people this blogger spoke to, let it be noted, were very pleasant, apologised for any inconvenience caused and assured this blogger that they would get it sorted and he should receive the router forthwith - if not sooner. Well, except for one lady who spent most of her time trying to sell this blogger a mobile phone he didn't want. But the others were clearly trying their best to resolve the delay. Anyway, on Tuesday of this week - a full sixty two days after contact was first established - finally, this arrived at The Stately Telly Topping Manor Plague House.
The hot news: It's very nice! And it is certainly much, much faster than the old one. Configuring it and getting it up-and-running was easy, even for a complete technophobe like this blogger (it only took about ten minutes, if that). So, here are a couple of, hopefully useful, life lessons for you all, dear blog fiends. If you are ever offered something-for-nothing, don't believe you'll get it until it actually arrives in your sweaty hands. And, secondly, never be a afraid to be a right bloody pain in the arse to someone (or, indeed, several someones) if you think they're not doing what they promised to do in a timely-enough fashion. Such is The Whole of The Law.
Twin Peaks creator David Lynch has paid tribute to Julee Cruise, who recorded the TV show's haunting theme, as 'a great musician, a great singer and a great human being.' Cruise sang 'Falling' from Lynch's acclaimed 1990 drama, a particular favourite of all of us here at From The North, with the song reaching the top ten in the UK singles chart. She also performed on the soundtrack to Lynch's 1986 film Blue Velvet. Cruise's husband Edward Grinnan earlier wrote on Facebook that the sixty five-year-old had 'left this realm on her own terms.' In his tribute on YouTube, Lynch said: 'I just found out that the great Julee Cruise passed away. Very sad news. So it might be a good time to appreciate all the good music she made and remember her as being a great musician, a great singer and a great human being.' Cruise first collaborated with Lynch after working as a talent scout for composer Angelo Badalamenti, who had been asked to work on 'Mysteries Of Love' for the Blue Velvet soundtrack. Cruise struggled to find a suitably ethereal vocalist, so decided to have a go at singing the song herself. 'I actually never sang in that trademark "Julee Cruise voice" before I worked with Angelo and David,' she told the Gruniad Morning Star in 2017. 'I was always a real belter, lots of power. Working with them changed me.' The trio worked together on the 1989 LP Floating Into The Night, with Lynch writing the lyrics and Badalamenti composing the music. The LP included 'Falling' and other songs which would feature in Twin Peaks the following year. Cruise also appeared in the series and in the 1992 spin-off movie Twin Peaks: Fire Walk With Me and the 2017 revival Twin Peaks: The Return. Which was the winner of From The North's 'Best of' list for that year. 'It was so much fun to be part of something that just went ba-boom!' she told the Los Angeles Times in 2017. 'You didn't know it was going to do that. What a nice surprise life takes you on.' Cruise recorded a second solo LP, The Voice Of Love, with Lynch and Badalamenti in 1993 and Lynch directed her in an avant-garde one-hour concert film, Industrial Symphony Number One, in 1990. Beyond those collaborations, she also toured with the B-52s, filling in for Cindy Wilson during the 1990s and performed with Bobby McFerrin. Though, we should probably forgive her for the latter.

Madness Is The Glory Of This Life

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To paraphrase a trio of stinking, lice-ridden hippies (get yer hair cut, you three), welcome back Keith Telly Topping's dear blog reading fiends to the blog that - despite this blogger thinking recently that it had, perhaps, runs it's course - never ends. Infuriating to all jackbooted scum-thug bullyboys and Middle Class hippy Communist Gruniad Morning Star readers in equal measure. Controversial, opinionated, come and have a go if you think you're hard enough ... but never-less-than colourful. From The North, dear blog readers. It puts the 'blog' into bloggerisationisms. Usually.
Earlier this week this blogger, jokingly, posted the following photo onto his Facebook page with the accompanying caption: 'Today's general mood (with Donald Pleasance voice-over).' This being an example of 'humour.' Which, for the infotainment of our overseas dear blog readers, is an English invention in which one says something one does not, necessarily, mean. For the purposes of merriment and japery. At least, that's this blogger's story and he's - thoroughly - sticking to it.
Of course, the image used led to a brief but, this blogger believes worthwhile, discussion on the source of this photo. The Spirit Of Dark & Lonely Water was a Public Information Film made for the Central Office of Information in 1973. The film aimed to warn children of the dangers of careless or foolhardy behaviour in the vicinity of water and was shown regularly on British TV for several years during breaks in children's programming, especially on Saturday mornings. If you've never seen it before, dear blog reader, it is utterly effing terrifying. And, it almost certainly succeeded in its aim of not only discouraging foolish foolishness on the riverbanks of the nation but, also, in moulding a generation of younglings many of whom never wanted to venture even close to a pond. Or, the bath for that matter. According to the Gruniad Morning Star it was created 'in response to an increase in child drowning accidents: written and produced by the COI official Christine Harmon and directed by Jeff Grant,' who blogged about his experience making the film. 'To give the thing some heightened atmosphere I wanted to drift smoke like swirling mist around this ominous, hooded figure who appeared to be walking on water,' Jeff noted. 'With tools designed for the purpose it's easy enough for the technicians to blast smoke all over the place. What you have no control over however is the wind. A gentle breeze is enough to ruin the effect. Which it did many times. Everything would be set just right, I'd give the order to start filming. Then suddenly little more than a zephyr would spring up and the smoke was away across the fields. But - as happens most times - we got it in the end and I think the result is pretty convincing.' There are also a couple of very good down-memory-lane type pieces on the ninety second chiller here and here. Check them out, dear blog reader. 
In the event, this memory-jogger led this blogger to reflect on a few of the other things from, approximately, the same vintage which also terrified the living bejesus out of him when he was naught but a youngling. Like, for instance, The Cybermen.
The bowel-shatteringly tense and brooding 1973 play Boys & Girls Come About To Play, part of the BBC's Menace strand and starring a young (and bloody scary) Sarah Sutton.
From a similar period, Susan Pleat's disturbing 1972 Thirty Minute Theatre drama I Wouldn't Tell On You, Miss.
The opening pre-title sequence of the Department S episode The Man Who Got A New Face.
The Ace Of Wands story Seven Serpents, Sulphur & Salt. Which so shitted this blogger right up on first transmission, in 1971, that he was effectively banned from watching the popular Thames TV series again for some time afterwards.
A 1972 episode of the American anthology series Ghost Story, At The Cradle Foot, broadcast in the UK late one Saturday night in 1975.
Alice Cooper waving his sword around in an untoward manner on Top Of The Pops. Careful, bonny lad, you could have someone's eye out with that thing.
And, of course, The Blue Meanies.
Is it, dear blog reader, really any wonder that - with all of that going on in his life - this blogger grew up all warped and discombobulated and will, in all likelihood, come to a bad end? Thought not.
Speaking of movies featuring The Be-Atles (a popular beat combo of the 1960s, you might've heard of them), a rumour recently surfaced in one or two of the darker corners of the actual Interweb that two of the ultimate Holy Grails for fans of The Be-Atles (a popular beat combo of the 1960s, you might've heard of them) had been located. This concerned two scene filmed for, respectively, A Hard Day's Night and Help! which were deleted from the final cut and have, subsequently been listed as 'missing, presumed extremely junked.' The rumour, which briefly flitted across this blogger's consciousness last week, stated that both of these had now been rediscovered. Sadly, as with the majority of rumours about the alleged recovery of missing-presumed-wiped film and TV footage, this appears to have been either wishful thinking. Or, more likely, a deliberate bit of shit-stirring by someone with more time of their hands than is good for them. Or, indeed, for anyone else.
The first of these scenes featured Paul McCartney (before he was either a Sir or an MBE) and a very young Isla Blair and was dropped from A Hard Day's Night because Dick Lester thought it lacked pace and that it was inappropriate for one of The Be-atles (a popular beat comb of the 1960s, you might've heard of them) to have a one-on-one scene with a ladygirl. As a result, Macca was the only member of the group without a solo scene in the film.
Even more sought-after is a lengthy deleted scene from Help!, featuring Frankie Howerd, Wendy Richards and, John, Paul, George and Ringo. Cut because, apparently, it was awful.
In June 1970, Dick Lester reportedly went to the film library at Twickenham Studios to look at the out-takes from his two movies with The Be-Atles (a popular beat combo of the 1960s, you might've heard of them), but discovered that all of the unreleased footage had been destroyed. The studio had a policy of retaining such footage only for five years after the completion of a film. Now, where have we heard a similar story before in relation to television?
In the last From The North bloggerisationism update, this blogger mentioned The Horror Channel's current - very welcome - early morning repeat run of Gerry Anderson's UFO. Again, on Facebook this led to lots of, frankly long-overdue, appreciation of the marvellously fantastic Gabrielle Drake. Which caused this blogger to publicly confess that Gabrielle was, quite simply, only the third woman - after this blogger's mother - that a seven year old Keith Telly Topping fell helplessly in (completely unrequited) love with. The two ahead of her in the queue being Diana Rigg and Alexandra Bastedo (from The Champions). It's worth noting, here and now, that Keith Telly Topping, even at that age, was precociously a chap with very discerning tastes.
And, when two of them got together - as in what remains this blogger's favourite The Avengers episode, The Hidden Tiger - dear blog reader, it really was murder.
Of course, it wasn't just Di, Alex and Gabby that used to keep this blogger awake on a school-night. Oh no, that would be a massive disserve to (in no particular order), Wendy Padbury (in Doctor Who), Anneke Wills (in The Strange Report), Annette Andre (in Randall & Hopkirk (Deceased)and that episode of The Prisoner she appeared in), Barbara Shelley, Valerie Leon, Caroline Munro, Carol Cleveland, Angela Douglas, Jenny Agutter, Sheila Fearn, Rosemary Nichols (in Department S) and Cheryl Burfield (in Timeslip). Et cetera, et cetera
And, least it be thought the young Keith Telly Topping had purely British tastes, from over the pond, Elizabeth Montgomery, Barbara Anderson, Lesley Ann Warren, Teri Garr, Suzi Quatro, Yvonne Craig, Wonder Girl and Nancy from Shazzan. See what this blogger means about him always having been a chap with impeccable taste. As well as a warped personality due to constant childhood trauma from watching too much television. So, no change there, then.
National heart-throb David Tennant and Neil Patrick Harris have been seen filming in Bristol for the Doctor Who sixtieth anniversary episode. It was the first time that Harris has been spotted on-set since his involvement in the episode was announced two days previously.
During filming, Tennant could be seen in his blue trench coat protecting the occupants of a car, while crowds of people were running away. Eager fans reportedly crowded into Baldwin Street and Clare Street in the centre of Bristol to watch the production. During filming, some cars were set on fire and vehicles bearing the logo of UNIT were also spotted.
Over forty years ago, one of this blogger's favourite comic writers, the Godlike genius Grant Morrison, wrote a few strips for Doctor Who Magazine. Very good they were, too. Grant then went on to write the likes of Animal Man, Doom Patrol, Arkham Asylum, The Invisibles, The Filth, Sebastian O, JLA, Batman & Robin and New X-Men among others. More recently Grant started writing and producing TV shows, such as Brave New World and Happy! On the Substack newsletter Xanaduum Grant alluded to a possible return to Doctor Who at some stage in the future. A couple of years ago, Grant told TechRadar: 'It kind of did happen. I pitch[ed] a couple, but it didn't work out. One of these days, I've got a whole season worked out, so I'm sure it'll happen eventually.' This week, Grant posted further details to Substack, including thoughts on Jodie Whitaker, Peter Calapdi, The Lord Thy God Steven Moffat (OBE) and Big Rusty and also clarified what happened to the pitch he made just as Peter Capaldi was about to be unveiled as the new Doctor. 'At the start of 2013, I went down to London to pitch a bunch of ideas to Steven Moffat and his team. I'd correctly guessed the new Doctor would be an older man (I speculated on some kind of cross between Pertwee and Peter Cushing oddly enough) and suggested he'd be chalking his racing thoughts on blackboards all the time. I think there were two potentially great stories out of the five or so I pitched - one was a "timey-wimey" story designed to work as a high concept Doctor Who feature film and the other a heart-wrenchingly emotive Railway Children episode set in World War II - nevertheless, even after a few attempts at refining the first idea, I didn't make the grade. Having now worked at all stages of TV production, I know exactly where I went wrong in emphasising certain aspects of the story over the ones the BBC were keener to have in foreground. One of my stories involved meeting The Doctor as a child, which then happened in a very different way in the episode Listen. I'd also created some new monsters they really liked so while unwilling to commission any scripts from me, the BBC did offer to buy out my baddies! As an offer, it left a lot to be desired and I'd have got more busking Oasis songs for an hour, so I declined and kept the characters in the event I ever got another shot. A few years ago, I befriended my personal favourite UK auteur, who also did a few Doctor Who episodes. Following many chats, we ended up with a whole fantasy season of Doctor Who adventures which can only be described as revolutionary! We have big, mad ideas for The Doctor, the Companions, the Daleks, the season arc, the TARDIS and everything else, that not only fit with canon and are blindingly obvious but have never been done before! So there does exist what I can only describe as an ultimate Doctor Who pitch, poised to materialise, awaiting the day Russell Davies tires of the Time Lord!'
On a somewhat-related note, dear blog reader, here's a recent tweet from another of this blogger's favourite comic writers with a Doctor Who connection, Neil Gaiman.
Here's this week's reviews, dear blog reader, starting with Strange New Worlds: The Serene Squall. 'I have been doing research on human sex!' After last week's minor disappointment, Strange New Worlds was back on song with a mini-action movie in space and a, highly entertaining potential new recurring villainess. Some great performances in the episode and loads of excellent dialogue. 'I'm only going to tell you this once. Get the Hell out of my chair!'
Followed by The Man Who Fell To Earth: Cracked Actor. 'They found me because of you. I was a spectre, a myth. You arrive, suddenly a pack of Spaniards are at my door, weapons blazing!' Seven crackers out of seven, so far, dear blog reader. Utterly, superbly magnificent. This blogger loved the Apocalypse Now, Zero Dark Thirty and Scanners riffs and the whole 'aliens-versus-dinosaurs' discussion. 'What have you learned from them?''Road rage and porn!''Beside that!' Friction is nice says Thomas Newton at one point which is this episode in a nutshell. Love the politics, the back-stage scheming and the reflections on the nature of relationships. And the ending, whilst not entirely unexpected, had enough surprise in it to make it work. Sooner or later The Man Who Fell To Earth has, by the law of averages, to have a substandard episode but this blogger hopes they can put it off for a long as possible because he thinks the disappointment may kill him!
The writer of a new TV drama has responded after being 'inundated' with whinges about a character referring to Nottingham Forest as 'Notts Forest.' The scene in Nottinghamshire-based BBC crime thriller Sherwood reportedly angered 'many' Forest supporters who despise the term. And, by 'many', those reporting this story mean, as usual in these types of situations, half-a-dozen mouthy glakes wshinging on Twitter because they've got nothing better to do with their time. Some of those whinging about this trivia allegedly assumed its inclusion in the script must have been a mistake. But the author, James Graham, who is from Nottinghamshire himself, claimed that the wording had been chosen deliberately for several reasons. The six-part series, which stars From The North favourites Joanne Froggatt, David Morrissey, Roibert Glenister, Lesley Manville and Alun Armstrong, is about a murder investigation in a former mining community in the county. The scene which angered Forest fans saw Armstrong's character, Gary, chiding a boy who said that he had never heard of Trevor Francis. 'First million-pound player, Notts Forest, centre forward, fifty two caps for England,' he replied. All of which is factually accurate, to be fair.
Supporters - who dislike the term as it wrongly abbreviates the county rather than the city - quickly took to social media to 'voice their disgruntlement' after it was broadcast on Monday evening. Graham himself responded with a tweet: 'On the hundreds of messages about "Notts Forest", you are of course absolutely right. A true fan would never. I can (sort of) explain. The reasons were mainly character and accent. Because of Gary's (Alun Armstrong's) history and politics, we thought no way he'd be a fan, supporting a Northern team (inspired by real characters, this was loosely the case). And he's talking to a child. But the less satisfying reason is, by wanting local accents on screen - I worried "Nottnm" wouldn't register for wider viewers and for non-footy fans Forest is just a forest. My bad. Know it frustrates fans. I'll make amends. Please let me back into the city. Proud of your pride for your team.' And, dear blog reader, let us once again stand up and salute the utter shite that some people chose to care about.
An increasing number of people are turning away from the news because it lowers their mood, new research suggests. To which the obvious response is, no shit? The Reuters Institute's digital news report suggests that almost four in ten (thirty eight per cent) say they 'often or sometimes' avoid the news - up from twenty nine per cent in 2017. It found the number of people avoiding news over the past five years doubled in the UK and Brazil. Where, to be fair, they get a lot more bad news than we do. Except regarding their national football team. Thirty six per cent - particularly those under thirty five - said the news affected their mood. And, again, this is surprising how, exactly?
Issues such as the Covid-19 pandemic are thought to have contributed to the increase in people avoiding news bulletins, programmes and articles. Less than half of the sample (forty seven per cent) said they were 'very or extremely interested' in news compared with sixty seven per cent in 2015. Nearly half of those who took part in the global survey said they were 'put off' by the 'repetitiveness' of the news agenda, specifically too much politics and Covid-19 coverage. Trust was a factor, too - twenty nine per cent of those surveyed said the news was untrustworthy or biased, while trust fell fell in half the countries surveyed and rose in just seven, compared with last year. But, trust in news is still higher than it was before the pandemic, which reinforced the importance of reliable media for many people. On average, forty two per cent of those who expressed an opinion said they trusted most news most of the time. Some said they avoided the news because it led to arguments they would rather avoid (seventeen per cent) or made them feel powerless (sixteen per cent), while five per cent said they avoid news altogether. More than ninety three thousand people in forty six countries took part in the survey. And, someone got paid to write this rubbish up as 'news'.
Rare items from the late veteran BBC DJ and From The North favourite John Peel's home collection - including a signed record from John Lennon and Yoko Ono - have gone under the hammer. Although, not under an actual hammer, of course, as that may have smashed them and rendered the potential value somewhat diminished. Peelie, who lived in Suffolk, was BBC Radio 1's longest-serving original DJ until he died in 2004 aged sixty five. His widow, Sheila Ravenscroft, said 'people ought to be able to look at, own and enjoy' the items. The signed Lennon/Ono LP, 1968's virtually unlistenable Two Virgins, went for fifteen thousand knicker to someone with more money than sense, while the highest bid was for The Sex Pistols test pressings at over twenty grand. Peel's radio shows helped many music careers, including those of David Bowie, T-Rex, The Fall, The Smiths and The White Stripes. The two hundred lots sold for a total of four hundred and sixty five thousand smackers at the auction held by Bonhams in Knightsbridge. The lot which fetched the highest amount was two test pressings of The Sex Pistols' debut single 'Anarchy In The UK'/'I Wanna Be Me' from 1976 that had been estimated to sell for up to eight grand but fetched nearly triple that figure. Peel's, real name John Ravenscroft, was born in Heswall, Cheshire and went to Shrewsbury School as a boarder. He moved to a village near Stowmarket in the 1970s and The John Peel Centre for Creative Arts that opened in the town in 2010 and is due to be expanded. 'It's eighteen years since John died and the house is still full of all of his things that he collected, that he hoarded and the house shouldn't be a museum, things shouldn't be packed away in boxes, they are interesting items and valuable items that people ought to be able to look at, own and enjoy,' Sheila said. Other high-selling items included an original demo cassette from The Smiths with a letter from the band, dated 4 February 1983, that had been expected to sell for between five and seven hundred quid, but fetched over seventeen grand. A Queen II LP that came with a letter from Freddie Mercury sold for over sixteen thousand. Ironic really given that, although Peelie did give The Queen Group their first radio coverage, he soon realised that they were, in fact, turgid, pompous, overblown risible rubbish. Now, that one should have gone under an actual hammer. The mono pressing of Lennon and Ono's Two Virgins, which infamously had the pair pictured stark bollock-naked on the cover, went for fifteen thousand three hundred notes. Some people, dear blog readers, are just weird.
This blogger's old mucker Nick Cooper took issue with this blogger's use of only two eggs in the omelette which was mentioned in the last From The North bloggerisationism update, insisting that all omelettes - without exception - should contain 'at least three eggs.' This blogger responded that Stately Telly Topping Manor Plague House hasn't seen a three-egg omelette in bastard years, what with the cost of living and all that. And anyway, this blogger continued, for some people even a two-egg omelette is an indulgence since, many feel, one egg is an oeuf. Thank you, dear blog reader, thank you, this blogger is here all week, don't forget to tip your waitress and remember, you can't make an omelette without cracking some appalling joke. In French.
On Sunday evening, dear blog reader, for Us Supper at The Stately Telly Topping Manor Plague House, this blogger whipped up garlic and chilli breaded King Prawns with spring onion, mushrooms, basmati rice and Thai curry. Needless to say it filled a spot.
We come, now, to the inexcusable part of From The North dedicated to this blogger's on-going medical shenanigans. For those dear blog readers who haven't been following this on-going saga which seems to have been on-going longer than The Great Wall of China: This blogger spent several weeks feeling pure-dead horrible; had a week in hospital; was discharged; received B12 injections; then more injections; recovered his appetite somewhat; got a diagnosis; had a consultants meeting; continued to suffer from fatigue and insomnia; endured another endoscopy; had another consultation; got toothache; had an extraction; which took ages to heal; had yet another conversation with his consultant and had yet more injections.
On Thursday of this week two further appointments had been arranged for this blogger at his second home, the gloriously lovely RVI. Unfortunately, the two people making these appointments hadn't liaised with each other. So the first one (for an echocardiogram in the cardiology department) was at 10am and the second (for a simple blood test in out-patients) was scheduled for 2.45pm. Meaning, of course, that this blogger would have had about four hours in-between to kick his heels, do lunch and some shopping and feel dog-tired and shagged-out. As usual.
This blogger arrived promptly for the first appointment and mentioned to a very nice young lady on the reception desk and then, later, to the equally nice Doctor Alex who was doing this blogger's ECG about the whole 'having to come back this afternoon' malarkey. They both advised the same thing; after they'd done with this blogger, he should pop along to out-patients (on the same floor) and ask if there was any chance of them seeing me early. So this blogger did just that (the ECG appeared fine, by the way). Out-patients were, also, very helpful and, within about twenty minutes, this blogger was thoroughly bled and was out of there. Which meant there was no need for him to hang around town for as long as expected. He did, however, grab some excellent lunch at the Little Asia.
And then, after a quick bit of grocery shopping he was back at The Stately Telly Topping Manor Plague House, in theory, an hour before he should have been getting his blood drawn. God bless the NHS dear blog reader, because, frankly, this blogger was pure-dead knackered by that stage and needed an hour's lie down to recover some (though, by no means all) of his strength. So, goodness only knows what he would have been like if he'd needed to stick to the original schedule.
Jonny Bairstow's astonishing century led England to a stunning win in the second test against New Zealand on Tuesday which sealed a series victory. On a breathless final day at Trent Bridge, Bairstow made the second-fastest century by an Englishman in test cricket as the hosts strolled to what should have been a challenging target of two hundred and ninety nine from seventy two overs. Bairstow's outrageous hitting in a spell after tea took him to three figures from seventy seven balls, only just missing the England record of seventy six - set by Gilbert Jessop at The Oval in 1902. Bairstow was eventually out for one hundred and thirty six from ninety two balls, having hit fourteen fours and seven sixes in front of a delirious full house in Nottingham. It was left to captain Ben Stokes, who ended on seventy five not out, to complete the win with twenty two overs to spare. England had scored at almost a run a ball. It sealed a remarkable turnaround from New Zealand posting five hundred and fifty three in their first innings after being sent in to bat. It is the highest total England have conceded in a test which they have then gone on to win since 1894. They take an unassailable two-nil lead in the series, vindicating the freewheeling approach of new captain Stokes and coach Brendon McCullum. The home side can complete a clean sweep in the third and final test at Headingley next week. The seventeen thousand punters who grabbed free tickets on offer for the final day knew that England had a chance of pulling off a special win, but no-one could have predicted the way New Zealand would be steamrollered in such spectacular fashion. From two hundred and twenty four for seven overnight, leading by two hundred and thirty eight, The Black Caps ended on two hundred and eighty four all out, leaving England the jolly stiff task of scoring at more than four an over to claim another win. The home side had the benefit of a flat pitch and New Zealand being without their injured fast bowler Kyle Jamieson. Even so, the run-chase was truly staggering. England had been adamant about their intent to pursue any target and this was an awesome demonstration of what they can be capable of under Stokes and McCullum. It resulted in victory in one of the most entertaining test matches in living memory. The two hundred and twenty five fours and twenty four sixes is a new record for the most boundaries hit in a single test. At the centre of it all was Bairstow, who played one of the great innings by an England batter. Though he could not be there at the end, he was given a spine-tingling standing ovation after he was out. In terms of England's early progress in the Stokes-McCullum era, Bairstow has been one of the last to taste success. When he did, he produced arguably his finest moment in an England shirt. He was joined by Stokes at ninety three for four, with two hundred and six runs still required from less than forty seven overs and New Zealand were, at that stage, clear favourites. England took tea at one hundred and thirty nine for four with Bairstow forty three from forty eight balls. What followed, after tea, bordered on the ridiculous. Bairstow began by hitting Trent Boult over his head for six, then hooked Matt Henry into the stands. Wherever New Zealand bowled, he smashed the ball to the boundary. At one stage, Bairstow had taken fifty nine runs from twenty nine balls and was on course to beat Jessop's seventy six-ball record for England's fastest ton which had stood for one hundred and twenty years. Three figures eventually came, one ball too late, punching a Tim Southee half-volley through the off-side. The carnage did not end there. Off-spinner Michael Bracewell was carted into the leg-side, all while Stokes, struggling after jarring his knee, played second fiddle. When Stokes' mobility returned, he smashed the biggest six of the lot, sending Bracewell into the top-tier of the Main Stand. A partnership of one hundred and seventy nine in a mere twenty overs ended when Bairstow edged a ball from Boult and was caught by the wicket-keeper. Ben Foakes joined Stokes, who then crashed the winning boundary. Given what was to unfold, it seems ludicrous to think New Zealand had the better of the first part of the day. Daryl Mitchell trusted the tail, moving from his overnight thirty two to sixty two not out. His last-wicket stand of thirty five with Boult looked vital at the time. England, typically, began with positivity. Alex Lees hit the first two balls of the innings for four, only for Zak Crawley to edge Boult into the slips. Every time England built some momentum, they were pegged back. The two first innings centurions - Ollie Pope and Joe Root were both dismissed cheaply and Lees eventually fell to Southee for an attractive forty four. Realistically, Bairstow and Stokes were England's last chance. Congratulations should also go to both Sky Sports and BBC2 for including two songs that mean a lot to this blogger, james's 'Born of Frustration' and The Jam's 'That's Entertainment' in their respective highlights packages.
Just a few days after that, on Friday, England's ODI side were also on record-breaking form. Jos Buttler's incredible one hundred and sixty two saw England smash their own highest score in a one-day international with a mammoth four hundred and ninety eight for four from fifty overs as they thrashed The Netherlands by two hundred and thirty two runs in the first of a three match ODI series. In a particularly eye-catching start to Matthew Mott's tenure as England's new white-ball coach, Buttler pummelled fourteen sixes and seven fours as the feelgood factor from England's test side spilled over to continental Europe on a day of team, individual milestones and rock 'em, sock 'em action. Dawid Malan (one hundred and twenty five) and Phil Salt (one hundred and twenty two) also both made maiden ODI centuries, off ninety and eighty two balls respectively, as The Netherlands bowlers were smashed to all parts of the ground before England subsequently dismissed the Dutchies on de left hand side for two hundred and sixty six. England's total eclipses the four hundred and eighty one for six they made against Australia at Trent Bridge in 2018 and breaks the List A record of four hundred and ninety six for four, scored by Surrey against Gloucestershire in 2007. A total of twenty six sixes rained down on the uncovered stands in Amstelveen and fans assisted the Dutch players in searching for the ball every time it disappeared into the forest which surrounds the ground. Not all of them were found with nine balls, at a cost to the Dutch federation of one hundred and thirty Euros a pop, left unaccounted for during Buttler's brutal assault. Fittingly, Buttler hit the runs for England to reach the record ODI total, with a six launched over deep mid-wicket off Shane Snater on a miserable day for the Dutch bowlers, with leg-spinner Philippe Boissevain's ten wicketless overs costing one hundred and eight runs. Liam Livingstone's cameo at the end of the innings was just two balls short of the fastest ODI half-century as he blasted fifty off just seventeen balls, finishing with sixty six off twenty two balls. 'Boring boring England' sang the travelling fans in jest as Livingstone managed only a four off the penultimate ball of their innings which meant the tourists narrowly missed out on scoring five hundred, but they were soon cheering again when he dispatched the last ball for yet another six. Netherlands' response was decidedly more low-key as wicketkeeper Scott Edwards made a defiant unbeaten seventy two while Moeen Ali finished the pick of the attack with three for fifty seven. This was the first occasion an ODI between the two sides had been played on Dutch soil and it was an altogether different experience than the very first time an England XI took to the field here. A side featuring Alec Stewart, Nasser Hussain and Derek Pringle suffered a humiliating loss to The Netherlands at the same ground in 1989 - struggling to bowl in the drizzle on a slippery matting wicket. The straw-coloured grass pitch carefully prepared by Benno van Nierop at the VRA Cricket Ground over three decades later was hard, true and perfect for run-scoring on a day when the mercury touched thirty degrees Celsius. It made Dutch skipper Pieter Seelar's decision to bowl first baffling to all but the accountants tallying up the beer sales from the raucous six thousand visiting fans as England recovered from the loss of Jason Roy - bowled by his cousin, Snater - off the ninth ball of the innings. The Netherlands had chances, though. Snater spilled Salt at deep point off Bas de Leede on forty, then three balls later Malan overturned a marginal LBW decision on review after he was struck on the pad by Seelaar reverse sweeping. Seelaar, at least, was able to account for opposite number Eoin Morgan who, perhaps smelling some easy runs to ease himself back into form, promoted himself up the order only to fall LBW for a first-ball duck. Even by his own dizzying standards this was quite breathtaking hitting from Buttler, as he struck the ball so cleanly he seemed to be playing a different game to everyone else. Fresh from a productive stint in the Indian Premier League the thirty one-year-old is currently the best white-ball batsman in world cricket, operating at the peak of his powers. A caveat to this knock must be placed in the context of the strength of bowling, given England were playing an Associate nation. Indeed, the Dutch did not even have a frontline attack for arguably their blue riband series of the summer. Fred Klaassen and Roelof van der Merwe were among those who remained with their county sides to play in the T20 Blast on Friday evening. The Dutch federation could have demanded their mandatory release, but with a small pool of players there is a little appetite from either side to rattle cages. Nevertheless, Buttler's knock was stunning. His century came off forty seven balls, one hundred and fifty off sixty five, as his fast hands and strong wrists proved destructive. The Dutch bowlers simply did not know where to bowl to him, as their brains became scrambled in the carnage. He offered two chances on seventeen and thirty seven as Vikramjit Singh got fingertips on a powerful cover drive while Musa Nadeem Ahmad shelled a far more straightforward opportunity twenty runs later. It would prove costly. Without multi-format players Jonny Bairstow, Joe Root and Ben Stokes this was a chance for some of England's other white-ball players to shine and reflected the depth of options new coach Mott has in the batting department. Malan became the second England batter, after Buttler, to make a century in all three international formats as he and Salt played with great tempo mixing finesse with aggressive strokeplay to lay the platform for such a monumental total. Equally so, Livingstone's stand-and-deliver style - his fifty featuring five fours and sixes - will doubtless have impressed Mott, albeit with the realisation sterner opponents than the team ranked fourteenth in the ICC ODI rankings lie ahead. To paraphrase the legend that was Bjørge Lillelien, 'Abel Tasman, Hendrick de Keyser, Wim Kok, Max Verstappen, Sylvia Kristel, Jan Akkerman, Johan Cruyff, Hendrik Willem van Loon, Hieronymus Bosch, Anton Corbijn, MC Escher, Vincent Van Gogh, Rembrandt Harmenszoon van Rijn, Jacob de Wit, Piet de Jong, Geert Groote, François Thijssen, Johnny Rep, Gisèle d'Ailly van Waterschoot van der Gracht, Fanny Blankers-Koen, Jaap Stam, Piet Van Der Valk (and his frequently regenerating wife), Eddie Van Halen, Ruud Krol, Cornelius van Bynkershoek, Johannes Jacobus Poortman, Maurice Prince of Orange, Toon Hermans, Marco van Basten, all of Shocking Pink, Jan Vennegoor of Hesselink, Cornelis Tromp, Joke Smit, Rutger Hauer, Ellen van Dijk, Rinus Michels, William I, William II, William III, Beatrix, Juliana, Wilhamina and all the other Dutch Queens, Zacharias Janssen, Nicolaes Tulp, Wim van Hanegem, Johannes Vermeer, Wubbo Ockels, Ada Kok, Jimmy Floyd Hasselbaink, Willem Drees, Antonie van Leeuwenhoek, Desiderius Erasmus Roterodamus, Michiel Adriaenszoon de Ruyter, Christiaan Huygens, Anton and Gerard Phillips, Freddy Heineken, Jan Sloot, some tulips, a mouse in a windmill in old Amsterdam (where? there on the stair? where on the stair? right there!), Jools Holland (probably) ... can you hear me? Your bowlers took a Hell of a beating.' Almost inevitably, England's bowlers were left in the shade but they largely kept their discipline - Sam Curran's two for forty six relatively encouraging on his return to the side. Mott has been dubbed a legacy coach charged with turning England's limited-overs team from a good side to a great one. On a frenzied, dizzying day of batting in a sleepy town on the outskirts of Amsterdam, this was not a bad start.

"What We Changed Was Innocence For Innocence. We Knew Not The Doctrine Of Ill-Doing, Nor Dreamed That Any Did"

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Whilst most of the country has been spending a past few days, to paraphrase Oasis, out in the sun-she-ayn (something which, almost inevitably, some Middle Class hippy Communist lice at the Gruniad Morning Star found an angle to have a right good, hard whinge about). Or, gurning into their breakfast muesli about the rail strike (this blogger's view: Up The Workers), this blogger has barely left the safety, tranquillity and, steaming Turkish bath-atmosphere of The Stately Telly Topping Manor Plague House. Except for medical appointments and the purchase of some necessary supplies, of course. Both of which, as usual, left him utterly exhausted. Fatigued. Dog-tired. Pure-dead shagged-out. Knackered. Ready for a kip in his pit. Et cetera.
The facts are these, dear blog reader. Simply speaking, it's too damned hot in Britain at the moment. We're all stewing in our own juices. And, as usual in these sort of situations, the drums never cease.
Meanwhile, dear blog reader, it is reported that numerous 'hippie types' have been spotted in the vicinity of the West Country (despite the rail strike).
But, anyway, Thursday saw the arrival of incoming preview discs at The Stately Telly Topping Manor Plague House. Which was nice. Thus, it's review time. Starting with Strange New Worlds: The Elysian Kingdom. 'What the Hell ...?' Pike uses the phrase 'a nice change of pace' in an early scene and that's, actually, a pretty accurate(ish) summation of this strange new episode. Overtly sentimental and extremely silly in places (not that either are, necessarily, a problem - Star Trek has often encompassed both, often simultaneously), replacing the standard technobabble with a fairy tale told by a child was, in fact, curiously effective. Plus, 'The Swamp Of Instant Death'! ('That's not a good swamp!'), mythical journeys and a sprinkling of heroic adventure. And, it's Christina Chong's finest forty minutes so far, by a country mile (her being out-acted by a small yappy-type dog notwithstanding).
The Man Who Fell To Earth: The Pretty Things Are Going To Hell. 'Our choices are, now, time sensitive.' This blogger is aware that he says this pretty much every week, dear blog reader, but once again TMWFTE was achingly, outrageously beautiful. All the way from its explosive opening (quite literally) to the final, torturously sad flickers of an episode touch by magnificence. An allegory, told in metaphysical terms, with Biblical allusions and much pondering on the - subjective - nature of consciousness. Plus the best dialogue on TV at the moment ('it's going to get a bit weird so, everybody, keep your shit together!') Action, beauty, horror and, most importantly, nuns with guns. Knock-out.
It's been over a month since Doctor Who fandom was, collectively, shocked - and stunned - by the revelation that national heartthrob David Tennant and Catherine Tate would be returning to their roles as The Doctor and Donna Noble for the BBC's popular, long-running family SF drama's sixtieth anniversary episode.
Ever since, fans with more time on their hands than is, truly, good for them have been trying to work out just how the pair might come back. Now returning showrunner Russell Davies has given them some new theories to mull over. Writing in this month's issue of Doctor Who Magazine, Big Rusty put forward a few potential explainers for how this happenstance could be possible. He said: 'A mysteriously forgotten excursion for the TARDIS in between Planet Of The Ood and The Sontaran Stratagem? Or maybe a multiverse thing, they're all the rage these days. Maybe this is The Doctor and Donna from Universe Five Five Seven, all set to collide with our own. 'Then again, maybe ... this return is so impossible that it's actually an intricate illusion created by an old enemy of The Doctor's. Or maybe an old enemy of Donna's. Nerys! Of course, I wouldn't give that away in the pages of DWM, would I? But then again. This magazine is the first place I ever revealed the name of Billie Piper's Rose (in issue 340). So read carefully. There are truths in here.'
Meanwhile, somewhere on location ...
A new report by Screen Scotland shows the TV and film industry contributed almost five hundred and sixty eight million knicker to Scotland's economy in 2019 and the Scottish government hopes it can double to one billion quid by the end of the decade. Almost as much as sales of Irn Bru and Porridge Oats contribute in other words. One imagines First Minister Wee Jimmy Krankie will be delighted. At the FirstStage Studios in Leith Docks the vast main space is now empty but until a week ago it was humming with activity as Anansi Boys, one of two major drama adaptations being made for Amazon Prime, was about to wrap. Douglas Mackinnon, who hails from Skye, is a director and showrunner for both Anansi Boys and Good Omens, both of which were made in Scotland. He said: 'We were ready to do the second season of Good Omens and a first season of Anansi Boys, both based on books by Neil Gaiman and then the pandemic happened. Everything shut down and then at the tail end of 2020, Amazon said we'd like you to do both. I told them the only way was if they were done alongside each other and suggested we do that in Scotland. There were lots of discussions, and of course it all came down to money and practicalities but the bottom line was we could make it in Scotland, and at the top level.' A report - published by Screen Scotland - focuses on 2019, before the pandemic and long before the FirstStage studio was in action, or indeed any of the recent productions. It found that five hundred and sixty eight million notes was spent in the industry that year thanks to various productions including Outlander series five, No Time To Die and series four of The Crown. It also included Our Ladies, directed by Michael Caton Jones, The Cry and Netflix's Eurovision film with Will Ferrell. Scottish lack of culture secretary Angus Robertson says the report shows the value of the industry is now three times larger than was previously thought to be the case. 'If the growth trend continues, it will grow from half-a-billion ... by the year 2030,' he said. 'This is tremendous news for the Scottish economy in general.' Mackinnon added: 'It certainly feels like it's booming and I'm pleased if the two productions I've been working with have helped that boom to happen. But it's a slightly annoying word because we know what happens after a boom is a bust. So I'm hoping it's not a boom but something we can keep going and that our productions contribute to that, but others come along behind them.'
Speaking of Neil Gaiman TV adaptations, dear blog reader, the release date of Netflix's version of From The North favourite The Sandman has been announced as 5 August. And, whilst Neil's legion of fans worldwide eagerly await to see whether the makers have managed to capture the spirit and beauty of the original comics or have screwed it up big style we, at least, have a trailer. To give us an early idea that this might, actually, be ... quite good.
The last From The North bloggerisationisms update, which included a brief mentionette of Rosemary Nicols in the 'ladies whom this blogger thought were pure-dead-fantastic when he was eight' section led, over the following few days, to yer actual Keith Telly Topping having his first almost-complete Department S rewatch marathon in 'kin years. Several'kin years, in fact. And, astonishingly, the series actually stands up really well in 2022. Far better, in fact, than several of its - supposedly, 'better' - contemporary or near-contemporary ITC series. This blogger had quite forgotten what a properly fantastic (and, frequently, surprising) little show it was.
It had a fantastically sharp (and very-Modish) premise. The titular Department S was a, Paris-based, branch of Interpol concerned with the investigation of insoluble mysteries - a sort of provisional wing of Arthur C Clarke's Mysterious World, if you like. As veteran scriptwriter and co-creator Dennis Spooner envisaged them, they were the people who would have investigated The Marie Celeste if she were found abandoned in the Thames in the 1960s. Each episode would start with a date and place caption, an index to the general level of realism that the show attempted to maintain and a set up for the cases that Sir Curtis Seretse (the marvellously dignified Gambian actor Dennis Alaba Peters) would assign to the team. This was the heyday of ITC, Lew Grade's production company. They had already chalked-up big hits with The Saint, Danger Man, The Baron, The Champions and Man In A Suitcase as well as most of the Gerry Anderson series (all of which to a greater or lesser degree this blogger was a big fan of). They were experts at producing international settings on a back-lot at Borehamwood. Department S was filmed between April 1968 and June 1969, back-to-back with another of ITC's most fondly-remembered series, Randall & Hopkirk (Deceased), also created by Spooner. There was a kind of repertory company of actors, directors and writers who featured in most of these series that gave an ITC flavour to whatever was being produced. (Contrary to common belief, The Avengerswasn't an ITC series, it was made to ABC Television, although it was filmed at the same studios and shared many of the same writers, directors and actors with the ITC dramas.) Forever trying to crack the American market, there was usually a transatlantic air to most of these works. On two grounds, then, Department S was a different kettle of fish to the majority of its contemporaries. It certainly wasn't bland, the style of the mysteries being deliberately outrageous. Secondly, it might have 'officially' starred a straightforward American character, Stewart Sullivan (played by Joel Fabiani), but he (and, indeed, everyone else) was continually upstaged by someone very British. Jason King (played by the late, great Peter Wyngarde) was very much a product of the times; a slightly too-old Carnaby Street playboy who was - in the style of the day - 'a man of independent financial means' and was, basically, part of the Department because he enjoyed it and the opportunities that it gave him to meet lots of beautiful women and solve complex puzzles. In the episode A Fish Out Of Water, it was revealed that he is a widower whose wife, Marion (a film actress), had been killed in a plane crash. He wore incredible facial hair ('Get your 'air cut!' a workman shouts after him in The Trojan Tanker) and some of the most outrageous shirts on television. He was a crime writer, whose Mark Caine novels gave him a continual champagne fund and the ability to look at any mystery with an author's eye. No wonder the Department S writers gave him all the best lines. Jason once kept a bottle of champagne from Stewart, saying: 'I would offer you a glass, but it's bad for you in small doses!'
The third member of the team was Annabelle Hurst (the talented, previously-mentioned Rosemary Nicols - an actress, singer and author), who formed the other half of a rather Avengers-ish double act with Jason, both quipping in their frilled shirts while Sullivan slugged it out with that week's guest villains in his mohair suit. 'Annabelle, there are times when I ... quite like you!' Jason tells her, not in the least bit patronisingly, in A Small War Of Nerves, an episode featuring a marvellously twitchy guest performance by Anthony Hopkins.
The series ran for twenty eight episodes; some of them really very good indeed (The Man Who Got A New Face with its terrifying pre-title sequence, The Shift That Never Was, The Bones Of Byrom Blain, One Of Our Aircraft Is Empty, A Ticket To Nowhere, The Man From X, The Ghost Of Mary Burnham among others). There's even an episode, Spencer Bodily Is Sixty Years Old, in which Jason and Stewart as so disgusted by the implications of the creation of a drug that stops the aging process that they, effectively, defy Sir Curtis and walk off the case. Wyngarde's performance as King was described as being 'in the manner of a cat walking on tiptoe, with an air of self-satisfaction.' By 1971 it was reported that 'more babies [had been] christened Jason during the last twelve months than ever before' and, after the series finished, the character was spun-off into his own series - Jason King - by the same production team (also very good and with Wyngarde in spectacularly fine form).
Department S had pretty much everything you'd expect from an ITC series like cool cars (notably Jason's red Bentley Continental and Annabel driving both a tasty E-Type Jag and a Lotus Elan). It also had much amusing dialogue ('Stealing? It's a sure sign of frustration in a woman!' Or, when Jason tells Annabelle he's spent all day trying to escape from the room he's been locked in: 'How did you manage it?''If you're prepared to wait, read the book!'), interesting guest stars and pan-continental settings (even if almost all of it was filmed within a ten mile radius of Elstree). If you've never caught it previously, dear blog reader (or, you have, but have only vague and distant memories of it), the complete series DVD is well-worth a visit.
Mentioning this blogger's Department S marathon malarkey on Facebook on Monday, somewhat inevitably, led to several references by dear Facebook fiends to the 1980s band of the same name. Although, given that they only released about three singles during their heyday (the magnificent 'Is Vic There?', the, if anything even better'Going Left Right' and ... the other one) this blogger doesn't reckon that a 'the late Vaughn Toulouse-and-His-Chums marathon' would've lasted half-an-hour, let alone an entire weekend. This blogger always liked Department S, let it be noted. He saw them supporting The Jam twice on The Gift Tour and they were a very tight unit indeed. Though, they could've done with at least one member featuring Peter Wyngrade-style facial hair. That would've gone down well on Top Of The Pops in 1981.
Now, moving on swiftly to a question for which this blogger, sadly, has no answer, dear blog readers. How on Earth did yer actual Keith Telly Topping manage to tear his very self away from the previously mentioned all-weekend Department S marathon and Monday morning's UFO episode on The Horror Channel (The Square Triangle, a tasty, morally ambiguous murder mystery with good old Patrick Mower acting his little cotton socks off)?
Furthermore, his having done so, a further question rears its ugly head. How, did he then manage to make it down to ALDI and then struggle all the way back to The Stately Telly Topping Manor Plague House (on the bus) lumping this lot whilst feeling aal grotty and discombobulated? It's something that, perhaps, only minds with a far greater tolerance for the absurd and the illogical can determine. Where are you, Mister Einstein, when Keith Telly Topping needs you the mostest, baby?
And then, to top it all, Keith Telly Topping arrived home, laden with his - necessary - supplies, only to discover that he'd left the Stately Telly Topping Manor Plague House TV on whilst he was out and was confronted with the horrific sight of possibly the worst Space: 1999 episode of the lot, Full Circle (the one with the cavemen). After that, he really needed a lie down to recover.
Speaking of watching UFO episodes, dear blog reader, Wednesday's episode of The Horror Channel's welcome breakfast-time re-run was the splendidly bonkersThe Psychobombs with lovely Vladek Sheybal going so far over the top he was down the other side. This blogger's thanks, incidentally, go to his old mucka Nick - who specialises in exactly this sort of research - for digging out Vladek's Naturalisation Certificate from The National Archives. Proving that, when he played Doctor so-called 'Jackson' in UFO, he'd already been a naturalised British citizen for four years. Though, this blogger was somewhat surprised to discover a Pole with a German middle name (Rudolf). No wonder he wanted to leave.
Immediately after that had finished, in urgent need of getting to the bank to pay in some money, this blogger was forced once again to leave The Stately Telly Topping Manor Plague House and go out into the muggy, quasi-tropical heat. He caught the bus into Th' Toon, did what was necessary and took this rather lovely photo of Gallowgate's The Chinese Gate (with The Cathedral Of Dreams behind) as this blogger was about to be homeward bound.
The downside of all this was, on the way back, this blogger was subject to one of the worst curses of modern life, finding his very self stuck next to The Nutter On The Bus. Or, in this particular case, The Woman With A Really Loud And Shrill Voice Who, Seemingly, Believed That If She Shut Her Gob For One Second, Her Brain Would Stop Working And Wanted To Share Her Life Story With Everyone Else. God, it was annoying.
Thankfully, it was only a short journey. Any more than ten minutes of that and this blogger would've been gnawing his own foot off to stay sane (or, as close as Keith Telly Topping can get to sanity these days). Still, there was one, minor and really deserved compensation ...
Friday's UFO episode, incidentally, was the reliably shit-weird Mindbender. Just, frankly, what any viewer needs at 8am on a sticky, red-hot and humid morning, an episode about hallucinatory alien malarkey and very bad trips. And Mexicans.
Plus, of course, The Big White Hand. One has to love The Big White Hand, dear blog reader. It's The Law.
For Us Dinner at The Stately Telly Topping Manor Plague House on Tuesday evening, it was only bleedin' pork and prawn garlic curry with mushrooms, spring onions and black pepper, wasn't it? And basmati rice, obviously. Plus, yet another outing for Walter The Stately Telly Topping Manor Plague House wok. And, lo, there was much rejoicing in The Stately Telly Topping Manor Plague House as this was, also, really deserved.
We come, now, to the inexcusably regular part of From The North dedicated to this blogger's on-going medical shenanigans. For those dear blog readers who haven't been following this on-going saga (where've you been?) which seems to have been on-going longer than The Hundred Years War: This blogger spent some weeks feeling wretched; had five days in hospital; was discharged; received B12 injections; then more injections; recovered his appetite; got a diagnosis; had a consultants meeting; continued to suffer from fatigue and insomnia; endured a second endoscopy; had anotherconsultation; got toothache; had an extraction; which took ages to heal; had yet another consultation; spent a whole week where nothing remotely health-related occurred; was given further - really painful - injections and did another hospital visit for an echocardiogram. Tragically, the latter didn't sound like this. Which is, trust me dear blog reader, as much of a disappointment to this blogger as it, no doubt, is to you.
This time around, there's been one further visit to the local medical centre for yet another bit of blood extraction as yer actual Keith Telly Topping's medical team continue to search, seemingly in vain, for the reasons behind this blogger's current incapacity. This blogger is clearly, dear blog reader, a case unique to medical science.
Thursday saw two by-erections taking place and two effin''uge defeats for the government. You might've heard about them; there was Labout taking back Wakefield which they had lost at the last erection and the Lib Dems achieving a stunning victory Tiverton & Honiton a, traditionally, safe-as-the-Bank-of-England Tory seat. Both of which leaves Bashing Boris - already, effectively a dead man walking - clinging onto his position of power by his fingernails as many Tory MPs speculate on whether Bashing Boris is an erection liability or not. All of which, of course, was extremely funny to behold.
When asked, by the BBC, about his limp erection performance, Bashing Boris was quoted as saying that the two by-erection results were 'not brilliant.' Jesus, what a once-in-a-generation mind that clown has, dear blog reader. Mind you, he is correct in so much as, on a scale of one-to-ten, with one being 'totally brilliant' and ten being 'not even slightly brilliant or anything even remotely like it,' this was, what a twenty? More like a fifty. Bashing Boris also claimed that 'I will not undergo psychological transformation after poll defeat.' Which, to be fair, is probably a blessing for all concerned. God only knows what he'd transform into next.
This blogger's beloved and now, thankfully, sold Newcastle United have signed England goalkeeper Nick Pope from extremely relegated Burnley for an undisclosed fee. The thirty-year-old moves to St James' Park on a four-year contract after spending six seasons at Turf Moor. Magpies boss Wor Geet Canny Eddie Howe called Pope 'an exceptional Premier League and international-level goalkeeper. I'm very pleased to be adding strong competition to a very important position,' Steady Eddie added. Pope joined Burnley in 2016 when the club was newly promoted to the top flight and made one hundred and fifty five appearances, including playing thirty six times last season. He played an integral part in helping the club qualify for the Europa League during the 2017-18 campaign when The Clarets finished seventh. Pope's England debut came in 2018 as a substitute against Costa Rica in a friendly. Then in March 2021 he became the first goalkeeper to keep a clean sheet in his first six appearances for England following a two-nil win over Albania. On his move to Newcastle, Pope said: 'Now I'm here, I can't wait to get started. The deal has taken a couple of weeks to come to fruition, but it got over the line really quickly and I'm delighted to be here and I'm really looking forward to getting stuck into it.' Pope is Howe's second summer deal after The Magpies completed the signing of Aston Villains left-back Matt Targett for fifteen million smackers on a four-year contract after he'd spent the second-half of last season on loan at United. Newcastle open their Premier League campaign against newly promoted Nottingham Forest on 6 August.
The Magpies have also reportedly agreed a deal with Lille for the Netherlands Under-Twenty One defender Sven Botman. Wor Geet Canny Eddie Howe's side tried to sign the twenty two-year-old in January and faced stiff competition from AC Milan. Landing the centre-back for a fee believed to in the region of thirty million knicker means that Howe has recruited right across his defence since taking charge of United last November. Botman is expected on Tyneside next week for his medical, with agreement on personal terms said to be 'close to being finalised' according to media reports.
Five major planets in the solar system are currently, as Shriekback once said, all lined up in a row for a rare planetary conjunction visible with and, to quote another popular beat combo, The Whom, looking fine to the naked eye. In a clear sky, Mercury, Venus, Mars, Jupiter and Saturn can all be seen shining before dawn. It is a special opportunity to see Mercury, which is usually obscured from view by The Sun's bright light. The conjunction was brightest on Friday morning but will remain visible until Monday from most parts of the world. The last time this conjunction occurred was 2004 and it won't be seen again until 2040. The planets appear 'like a string of pearls spread out from close to the horizon,' explained space scientist, chief stargazer at the Society for Popular Astronomy and regular contributor to The Sky At Night Professor Lucie Green. It is also a special event because the planets appear in the order they are positioned from The Sun. That isn't always the case for planetary conjunctions because of our perspective on Earth looking into the solar system, Professor Green says. On Friday a crescent Moon also joined the line-up, appearing between Venus and Mars. Both of whom are, according to some Octogenarian who's headlining Glastonbury this weekend, 'all right, tonight.' Which is nice to know. The Northern hemisphere, where this blogger lives (you might've noticed), can get the best views between forty five and ninety minutes before sunrise. Looking Eastwards and very close to the horizon, ideally from a high spot like a hill. Large buildings or trees will obscure the view. As will, as another popular beat combo, The Pink Floyd once noted, clouds.
You, dear blog reader, will need to be oot of yer stinkin' pits early however, because as soon as The Sun comes up (the opposite of what Level 42 talked about. But, they didn't want to go to war, do you follow them? Which was, obviously, to their credit) it will wash out the sky, obscuring the planets. But they can be seen with the naked eye - Professor Green advises sky-gazers not to use equipment like binoculars or telescopes because of the risk of looking directly into The Sun. Can being, you know, blinded. Start by looking for the planet furthest away, which will be Saturn. Then count back through the planets until you find Venus, which is usually very bright. The final planet in the line-up should then be Mercury. Professor Green says it took her 'many years' to see Mercury because it's a hard planet to spot. 'It is very satisfying if you can see this faint twinkling planet,' she says. Observers in the tropics and the Southern hemisphere should get better views because the planets will rise higher in the pre-dawn sky, but an early start will still be needed.
For many, after-work drinks are a common way of relaxing after a busy week. But one worker in Japan could be nursing a protracted hangover after he lost a USB memory stick following a night out with colleagues. It contained the personal details of nearly half-a-million people. One imagines the chap involved felt a right pillock when he discovered he'd lost it and, indeed, needed a swift change of underwear. The unnamed man placed the memory stick in his bag before an evening's drinking in the city of Amagasaki, North of Osaka. He spent several hours out of the lash in a local restaurant before eventually passing out on the the street, local media reported. When he eventually came around, he realised that his bag - and the memory stick - were missing. The Japanese broadcaster NHK reports that the man, said to be in his forties and therefore, in theory, old enough to know better, works for a company tasked with providing benefits to tax-exempt households. He had transferred the personal information of the entire city's residents onto the drive on Tuesday evening before meeting colleagues for a night on the town. City officials said that the memory stick included the names, birth dates and addresses of all the city's residents. It also included more sensitive information, including tax details, bank account numbers and information on families receiving social security. Luckily for the man, city officials said the data contained on the drive is encrypted and locked with a password. Although if it's 'password' as many passwords are, then it might not be quite as safe as they seem to believe it is. They added that there has been 'no sign' that anyone has attempted to access the information. 'So far.' Because, to be honest, that sounds like a challenge. But the embarrassing incident prompted an apology from officials, with the city's mayor and other leaders bowing in shame and ignominy to residents. 'We deeply regret that we have profoundly harmed the public's trust in the administration of the city,' an Amagasaki city official told a press conference.
The Archbishop of Canterbury has apologised after research showed the Church of England's investment fund has links to the slave trade. Which was big of him. The investigation, initiated by The Church Commissioners, a charity managing the Church's investment portfolio (and not, as their chosen title may suggest, the latest version of The Spanish Inquisition), revealed that for more than one hundred years the fund invested large sums of money in a company responsible for transporting slaves. This, no doubt, shocked - and stunned - the CoE because, as we all know, 'no one expects The Church Commissioners' (their chief weapon is, after all, surprise).
The fund, known in the Eighteenth Century as Queen Anne's Bounty, has now developed into a ten billion knicker investment trust. The Most Reverend Justin Welby claimed that he was 'deeply sorry for the links.' One or two people even believed him. However, he did go on to suggests that, basically, the devil made them do it.
Queen Anne's Bounty was formed in 1704 to 'help support poor clergy.' By getting involved in slavery. Which, just as a side bar, the Bible has absolutely no problem with - see, for example, Leviticus 25:44-46. Or with sexual and conjugal slavery - see, for example, Genesis 25:1, 30:4 and 31:17. Apologists for this outrage claim that slavery 'was a common practice in antiquity' and that, anyway, since the Bible is alleged to be 'God's word' and God is, according to Christian theology, infallible, then q.e.d what's the problem, pal? An examination of Queen Anne's Bounty accounts from 1739 showed two hundred and four thousand smackers (estimated to be worth over four hundred and forty million notes today) had been invested in the South Sea Company who had an exclusive contract to transport slaves from Africa to Spanish colonies in South America for more than thirty years from the 1710s. It shipped tens of thousands of slaves, with the research suggesting that an estimated fifteen per cent of them died en route.
Church investments in the South Sea Company continued well into the Nineteenth Century. Because, of course, if there was one thing the pious and repressed Victorians revered more than abasing themselves in The Sight Of The Lord, it was profit. And then Tories wonder why anyone with a conscience hates them and everything they stand for. The Bish said: 'This abominable trade took men, women and children created in God's image and stripped them of their dignity and freedom. The fact that some within the Church actively supported and profited from it is a source of shame. It is only by facing this painful reality that we can take steps towards genuine healing and reconciliation - the path that Jesus Christ calls us to walk.' When asked if he agreed with these sentiments, Christ said: 'Nowt to do with me, mate, I was in Heaven at the time.'
The Church of England has, in the past, celebrated its role in helping bring about an end to slavery in Britain, citing the role played by Anglican Evangelical, William Wilberforce. On the other hand, in recent years the Church has apologised for dozens of its clergymen having been revealed to have owned slaves. It has said sorry because its missionary organisation, The Society For The Propagation Of The Gospel, owned a plantation in Barbados, branding its slaves across the chest with the word SOCIETY. Now, by its own research, it has acknowledged that for decades its investment fund poured almost all its money - aside from what it used to buy land - into a company that had a monopoly on transporting slaves to South America. With more than half of the worldwide Anglican communion now based in Africa, these admissions will be made all the more uncomfortable.
The research also found that the fund received 'numerous' contributions from individuals linked to, or who profited from, transatlantic slavery and the plantation economy. The Bish added: 'I pray for those affected by this news and hope that we may work together to discern a new way forward.'
Convicted naughty sex criminal Ghislaine Maxwell's lawyers are fighting to keep several accusers from providing victim impact statements at her sentencing for sex trafficking on Tuesday. The British socialite and sex offender's legal team argued in court filings on Friday that four accusers' ages meant that they were not 'statutory crime victims' who would have the right to speak at sentencing. In making their arguments, Maxwell's legal team publicly included three impact statements, which were submitted to Judge Alison Nathan in advance of sentencing; this appears to be an unusual move, as prosecutors typically file these remarks. This, seemingly unusual, move also means that Maxwell's lawyers - not the victims and not those representing them - made the decision about when the victims' words would be public. Maxwell's team said that they were provided with statements from Annie Farmer, 'Kate', Virginia Giuffre, Maria Farmer, Sarah Ransome, Teresa Helm and Juliette Bryant. Annie Farmer and 'Kate', who both testified at trial, were victims in the indictment against Maxwell; Giuffre was a minor during her interactions with her and Jeffrey Epstein. The defence has taken issue with Maria Farmer, Ransome, Helm and Byrant providing statements, arguing that Maxwell was not charged and convicted based upon their allegations. They contend that Maria Farmer, Ransome and Helm were adults during their alleged encounters with Maxwell - and that Bryant's then age 'remains unknown' - further undermining their legal right to speak at sentencing. 'Allegations alone do not serve to automatically qualify the individuals as statutory victims under the CVRA,' Maxwell's team wrote, referring to the Crime Victims Rights Act, later arguing, 'Neither the superseding indictment nor the court's jury instructions support a position that anyone who was not a minor is a "victim" of the counts of conviction. The involvement of a minor is an essential element of the federal offense conduct,' they added. 'None of these individuals testified at trial and their credibility remains unexamined. Regarding the charges in this case, they do not qualify as victims under the CVRA.' Maxwell was extremely convicted on 29 December of sex trafficking and related charges in her Manhattan federal court case for procuring girls, some as young as fourteen, for Epstein to abuse. She faces up to fifty five years' in The Joint when Nathan hands down her punishment. Epstein, the late financier and convicted sex offender, was arrested in July 2019 for sex trafficking; he killed himself in jail about one month later. Allegedly. Maxwell was arrested a year after his arrest. The victim statements submitted to Nathan that were made public describe the harrowing emotional impact of the abuse. Annie Farmer, who testified that Maxwell gave her a nude massage at Epstein's New Mexico ranch when she was sixteen, said: 'This toxic combination of being sexually exposed and exploited, feeling confused and naïve, blaming myself all resulted in significant shame. That sickening feeling that makes you want to disappear. Once arrested, Maxwell faced another choice. She could admit her participation in this scheme, acknowledge the harm caused or even provide information that could have helped hold others accountable,' Farmer wrote. 'Instead, she again chose to lie about her behavior, causing additional harm to all of those she victimised.''Kate', who testified that Maxwell lured her into sexual encounters with Epstein at age seventeen, said: 'The many acts that were perpetrated on me by Epstein, including [redacted] sexual assault, were never consensual and would have never occurred, had it not been for the cunning and premeditated role Ghislaine Maxwell played. The consequences of what Ghislaine Maxwell did have been far reaching for me. I have struggled with and eventually triumphed over, substance use disorder,' she wrote. 'I have suffered panic attacks and night terrors, with which I still struggle. I have suffered low self-esteem, loss of career opportunities.' Giuffre did not testify, but trial evidence supported that she was a minor when Maxwell and Epstein's abuse occurred. 'Together, you damaged me physically, mentally, sexually, and emotionally,' said Giuffre, who as sixteen when Maxwell brought her into Epstein's orbit. 'Together, you did unthinkable things that still have a corrosive impact on me to this day. I want to be clear about one thing: without question, Jeffrey Epstein was a terrible pedophile. But I never would have met Jeffrey Epstein if not for you,' she said. 'For me and for so many others, you opened the door to Hell. And then, Ghislaine, like a wolf in sheep's clothing, you used your femininity to betray us and you led us all through it.' In their filing, Maxwell's team also included blacked-out versions of statements from those whom they allege are not victims and argued that they should remain secret. 'Their victim impact statements are unduly prejudicial, contain allegations not previously before the court which serve to inflame the emotions of the court and public. Their airing during sentencing or any consideration by the court in imposing sentence, would violate Ms Maxwell's due process rights,' they added. 'We object to the publication of the impact statement of the individuals.' Convicted sex offender Maxwell maintains her innocence. Though, to paraphrase the late Mandy Rice Davies, 'well, she would, wouldn't she?'
We have a real bumper crop of nominees for the From The North Headline Of The Week award, dear blog reader. Starting with BBC News who, seemingly, believe that the number one question about this week's by-erection(s) that Britons have is ...
One imagines, they needed every single one of their 'search specialists' to answer that and may, indeed, have needed to called in reinforcements from Sky News. Next, another gem from, the BBC's by-erection coverage.
A bit over-the-top, frankly, given what Hasbro always used to tell us about Weebles®™. Next, this twenty four carat classic from the Daily Lies Of Scotland.
And, if one of the 'stranger things' we allegedly didn't know about Kate Bush is that she reads the Daily Lies, this blogger intends to resign from the human race forthwith. Moving, quickly, onto Cheshire-Live and their staggeringly important scoop, Chester MP Warns Floating Barbecue Boats On River Dee Could Cause 'Mayhem'. Fascinating word 'could'. In politics and, indeed, in life in general.
The Hull Daily Mail, like its Fleet Street namesake the Daily Scum Mail, appears to have something of a fetish concerning crowbarring house prices into its headlines. Take, Women Fear Thirty Foot 'Smelly' Pole Will Affect Value Of Three Hundred & Twenty Five Thousand Pound Homes. I say, dear blog reader, that's a very uncharitable way to refer to a, presumably, hard-working and tax-paying Central European migrant worker.
The Irish Examiner's Cork Man, Eighty One, Chains Himself To Water Pump In Macroom In Protest Against Council leaves many, many unanswered questions.
When it comes to Headline(s) Of The Week, one can always depend on the good old, reliable, not-a-real-paper Metro. With its, admittedly, decent crossword but it's staggeringly nothing stories. Like McDonald's Burger With 'Only Ketamine' Label Delivered To Hungover Student. And then, in the article, they helpfully explain to their readers, whom they clearly believe are all as thick as pig's shite and twice as nasty, that ketamine is a 'Class A drug was spelt incorrectly without the "e"'. Listen Metro, most of your regular readers are likely on ketamine, it's the only way they can consume your daily horseshit without passing out.
The Ayr Advertiser, meanwhile, gave its readers Ayr Sheriff Court: Big Bumblebee Attacks Procurator Fiscal. Which occurred in the same week that Netflix releasedMan Versus Bee. What are the chances? This blogger believes it's the use of the word 'big' in this headline that makes it art. Because, as any fule know, 'small' bumblebees, well, they're as soft as shit.
And, finally, Derbyshire-Live need a spot of praise of the classy investigative journalism involved in Hermes Courier Takes Pic Of Dog 'Accepting' Parcel As Proof Of Delivery. This, dear blog reader, constitutes 'news'. Well, in Derbyshire, anyway.

The Pow'r That I Have On You Is To Spare You The Malice Towards You, To Forgive You

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Wouldn't you just know it, dear blog reader? For approximately ten days during Mid-to-Late June Great Britain was, quite literally, stewing in its own juices as a heatwave of, if you will, mind blowing decisions-style proportions hit this parched and arid land. God, it was hot. And, pretty much everyone got to the point where they were completely bloody sick to the back teeth of the heat and the stickiness and the itching. At which point, they whinged about what a right shite state of affairs this all was, loudly, to anyone that would listen. And, indeed, anyone that wouldn't (this blogger, let it be noted, very much included). Then, of course, the inevitable happened. The rains came and, as it stotted doon like The Flood, we all ran and hid our heads (to paraphrase the alcoholic, wife-beating Scouse junkie out of The Be-Atles, a popular beat combo of the 1960s, you might've heard of them). The sky ripped open and down it pissed by the bucketful. People got soaked right through to their vests. Cricket matches were abandoned due to flooding. F1 qualifying at Silverstone resembled water-skiing. Drains overflowed. Frequently. Small mammals drowned. You got wet just thinking about leaving the house. And, so people whinged again.
They whinged about the heat and then, just to prove what a bunch of contrary sods we are, they whinged about the damp and the (relative) cold. The United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland, dear blog reader. We're really quite a sight, so we are. Is it any wonder the rest of the world hates us and loudly celebrates when our national football team(s) are eliminated from major tournaments in the first round (or, in Scotland's case, during qualification)? It's because of the whole 'things could've been a lot worse' attitude. What do you mean, 'what "things could've been a lot worse" attitude'? Allow From The North favourite, dance maestro and national treasure Bill Bailey to explain how it works. Or, to put it another way, 'our days are overcast so as a nation we're enthused with a wistful melancholy, but we remain a relentlessly chipper population, prone to mild eccentricity, binge drinking and casual violence. We have no natural predators, although, badger'll give you a nasty nip.'
That's Britain for you, dear blog reader. Although we do still have the National Health Service, much bangin' pop music, the Premier League, the BBC, David Attenborough, Doctor WhoQi, Test Match Special and the best film reviewer in the whole world, bar none.
Right, next Doctor Who, which already has a lot of changes coming to a tellybox near you, dear blog reader, what with Jodie Whittaker's upcoming regeneration and all of the reveals concerning next year's sixtieth anniversary episode. It looks like another change is on the way, seemingly to the chagrin of gammons everywhere. Which is, always, good for a laugh. It appears that a major redesign is coming to the TARDIS. A tabloid report states that the TARDIS will undergo a change which will make it wheelchair-accessible. The Sunclaims that a new design for the TARDIS will remove stairs, narrow spaces and other obstacles which would make navigation for a time traveller in a wheelchair rather difficult. On top of those revisions, a lift will be installed. The reason for the change, according to the report, is to 'accommodate the show's continued steps towards inclusivity' and because of the involvement of national treasure Bernard Cribbins in the upcoming sixtieth anniversary special.
There are also rumours that Big Rusty is considering bringing back Shooty Dog Thing. Which would be popular with some and less popular with others. So, again, probably this is Big Rusty being contrary just for the sake of it. Much like everyone else in this country, in fact. 
Anyway ... arrival of the latest incoming preview disc at the Stately Telly Topping Manor Plague House: And, it was a really good'un, kicking off with Strange New Worlds: All Those Who Wander. 'People are capable of doing two things at once.' Oh wow, Star Trek does Alien! And, indeed, Aliens. (Sam Kirk-as-Hudson.) They even had their own Newt substitute. Mostly. It was, in short, the best SNW episode so far, by a sodding huge distance. And, you can take it from this blogger on that score, dear blog reader, he's a very widely respected author, journalist and broadcaster. Not that it's all perfect, of course; the pre-title sequence, for example was so obviously signposted it should have had a big white arrow sticking out of its metaphorical head. The two people whom we'd never seen before but were the focus of this scene were, clearly, not doing to make it beyond the second advertising break. And, so it proved. No Red Shirt's though, thankfully (yellow and blue, as it happens). The dialogue was great, though: 'I bet you're a tempest when you're angry.' Celia Rose Gooding's Uhura was terrific throughout (as she has been all series) and this blogger really admired the Spock/Christine Chapel scene. He even thought Christina Chong was ... mostly adequate this week. 'Watch the ceilings, anything that moves, shoot it!' Reminiscent of Deep Space Nine at its most edgy and dark. Loved it, loved it, loved it.
However, from a really very fine episode of a really very fine series to one of the most extraordinary hours of television this blogger believes he's seen in a long time. The Man Who Fell To Earth: As The World Falls Down. Which was utterly, mesmerisingly, transendentally beautiful. 'You either die in a cage or you own the world. There's nothing in-between.' An intricate game about games (TMWFTE does The Prisoner, basically). 'I know everything you've ever loved.' So, that's how one survives (and enjoys) waterboarding. Good to know should the CIA ever get notions about grabbing someone with a brain the size of an Adidas Telstar. A story about family, betrayal, torture, betrayal, anticipation, betrayal, duality ('you're both the fucking same'), betrayal, suppressed memories, betrayal, murder and choices. And, betrayal. 'All we need is thirty six hours.' God, this cast is great. Especially, this week (in, indeed, every week), Chiwetel: 'Your name is a prison ... but what I know will set you free.' All of the sudden changes in character motivation in the last quarter of the episode appeared completely earned and made perfect sense to this blogger. Especially the climax. 'You're not Pressman Thorne.''Are you sure?' Quite, quite brilliant, dear blog readers. And remember, absolutely no horses were extremely shot in the face during the making of this episode. Well, okay, maybe one. 'Is that Question Five?'
'They murdered time!' This blogger switched on The Stately Telly Topping Manor Plague House widescreen TV first thing on Thursday morning after yet another sleep-deprived night of tossing. And turning. After spending ninety minutes watching (for the second time) a really rather good early 1960s Brit-noir on Talking Pictures, Night Of The Prowler, he went looking for The Horror Channel for that day's Stately Telly Topping Manor Plague House dose of '8am UFO with breakfast' malarkey. Only to discover that the - long threatened - rebranding and reordering process of THC (and some other channels) had occurred overnight. It, therefore, took this blogger another five minutes to find the new channel on The Stately Telly Topping Manor Sky TV Guide, Legend (that's number one hundred and forty eight on your Sky programme list, dear blog readers. Or, if you're still only on Freeview, y'cheapskate b'stard's, it's number forty one). He found it just in time for the extraordinary opening sequence of Timelash, the zenith of the drug-crazed-abandon episodes from the second half of Gerry Anderson's much-loved live-action series. This was, of course, one of the handful of episodes which were given a restricted, late-night slot on many ITV regions back in 1970-71 due, mainly, to the scene in which Ed Bishop and Wanda Ventham, ahem, shoot-up to counteract the slowing-down-time shenanigans. Plus the episode is, generally, as weird as a very weird thing (with weird knobs on). As weird, in fact, as Weird Jack McWeird, winner of the Mister Weird competition. But, it remains worth it for many reasons, particularly the multiple shots of Patrick Allen bellowing 'Big Man!' at Straker and gurning at the camera.
It also has one of this blogger's favourite lines of dialogue in TV history. 'In The New Order, I'm going to be boss.' Something which yer actual Peter Hook spent the majority of twenty years trying to achieve. And failing.
Friday morning's UFO episode was Ordeal. Not one of the more memorable ones, except for the use of 'Get Back' (a rockin' little tune by The Be-Atles, a popular beat combo of the 1960s, you might've heard of them) at the yuppie party Paul Foster attends. And, it is implied, ends the night giving a good, hard, eye-watering shag to Groovy Sylvia (Quinn O'Hara) whose party it is. One imagines obtaining the rights for that one song blew the vast majority of the episode's budget (clearly, they got the other song used during the party sequence, The Spencer Davis Group's 'Trampoline' for about sixpence). The rest of the budget most likely went on the ghastly clobber that the production team gave poor Michael Billington to wear. The 1980 this blogger knew was never like that, dear blog reader. Not with those flares. 
On the subject of how they managed to use 'Get Back', the episode in questiopn - the ninth of the first UFO production block - was filmed at Elstree between 8 and 20 August 1969. This was five months after Dick James and his partners had sold their entire stake in Northern Songs to Sir Lew Grade's Associated Television without informing Lennon and McCartney. John, Paul and Ron DeKlein then attempted to gain a controlling interest in the company but their bid, part of a long and acrimonious fight, ultimately failed. Mainly due to Lew's financial muscle.
By the time Ordeal was in production, Grade (whose ITC Entertainment co-produced UFO with Gerry Anderson's Century 21 Television) had effectively gained more-or-less complete control of Northern Songs. And, presumably, it was he that was behind the licencing of 'Get Back' to be used in this particular episode. It's nice when one has influential fiends in high places, is it not, dear blog reader?
And, speaking of The Be-Atles (a popular beat combo of the 1960s, you might've heard of them), this blogger really enjoyed a piece of 'you're not gonna believe this, right?' reportage on the BBC News website several hours before That There Sir Paul McCartney (MBE)'s triumphant headlining of The Pyramid Stage at Glastonbury on Saturday night. It was all about some seriously mental Macca fanatics staking their claim to front row spots from early morning. 'Festival-goers,' the BBC noted, 'gathered at the barriers ... with sandwiches and snacks to keep them going [from the several hours] before McCartney [appeared] on stage. "I've been training for it like a marathon," said Kate Appleby. In order to avoid giving up her spot, the twenty nine-year-old has been practicing ways to avoid toilet breaks. "Lots of pelvic floor exercises, lots of clenching ... It'll be worth it."' Debateable if you end up with a ruptured colon, Kate. One trusts, therefore, that Kate didn't piss in her own keks (or worse) the second that Macca and his band stormed into their opening song, 'Can't Buy Me Love' as was usually the case at the height of Be-Atlemania. Or, that if a puddle of wee did emerge, it was only when they got to the third song in the set, 'Letting Go', a tune perfectly suited to pissing yourself. Mind you, dear blog reader, Paul also subsequently played 'She Came In Through The Bathroom Window' so that was, possibly, the eighty year old former bassist with The Be-Atles (a popular beat combo of the 1960s, you might've heard of them) and Wings (a popular beat combo of the 1970s, you might've heard of them) signalling to Kate and others like her that he shared their - agonising bladder - pain. There's probably a 'Carry That Weight' joke in there somewhere, if anyone cares to reach for it.
Or course, you just knew when stories emerged of fans waiting for up to ten hours to get a view of the nation's favourite Octogenarian rock and/or roll star that someone, somewhere was going to be jolly unlucky. So it was for Lisa Morris, from Bath, who reportedly collapsed after waiting for her hero behind the front barriers until gravity took over. When she realised that she had missed the vast majority of Paul's thirty eight-song two-and-three-quarter hour set, she claimed that she 'absolutely sobbed.' Again, a positive throw-back, that, to the sopping-cheeks, damp-knickers and sore-throats-from-all-that-bloody-screaming days of 1964. Don't worry, chuck, you can watch it on iPlayer. 'Probably five, six songs in, that was it, game over,' she added. Bright side, at least you got to see him play 'Junior's Farm' for the first time in about five tours, Lisa m'love. And a splendid time was guaranteed for all. 'cept Lisa, obviously.
The biggest mystery of Glastonbury weekend, though, was why Primal Scream's set didn't include 'Kill All Hippies'? ... Okay, on reflection, maybe there was a reason.
Keith Telly Topping would like to thanks the four - yes, four - dear blog readers who contacted him after the last From The North bloggerisationisms update, to share their appreciation of this blogger's extended Department S appreciation piece. Which was jolly nice of you all (thank you Dave, Mark, Judith and Holly). At least two of whom suggested that this blogger should do a similar retrospective rewatched-and-assessment on other vintage TV shows; a few were even suggested, although one of them was for a series of which approximately ninety six episodes no longer exist and, if this blogger started a complete rewatch today, even going at a story-a-day, it'd still take him the best part of ten months to get to the end of. And, it'd mean him watching The Creature From The Pit again and he's definitely doing that. However, the suggestions of The Prisoner (at seventeen episodes), Randall & Hopkirk (Deceased) (twenty six) and The Champions (thirty) could be done in a weekend and all sound quite tempting, actually. Especially if it keeps raining. You might want to stay tuned for the next 'Keith Telly Topping relives his misspent youth' installment.
'Just wondering, meanwhile, if we'll be getting the old Telly Topping ruminations on Sherwood', this blogger's fine Facebook fiend David asked a few days ago. 'It's good,' this blogger replied. 'Do you want more?' David said that he did. 'Okay, it's very, very, very good,' was this blogger's considered opinion. David still wasn't satisfied. 'I expect two column inches in the next bloggerisations [sic]' was his response. Crumbs. Sherwood, in case you weren't aware, drew to a close on Tuesday, with one critic describing it as 'the best BBC drama of the year.' This blogger currently has it second, behind the final series of Peaky Blinders and, provisionally, hovering somewhere around the top ten of likely inclusions in 2022's From The North Best Of list along with the likes of The Man Who Fell To Earth, Pistol, The Ipcress File, The Midwich Cuckoos and The Essex Serpent. Though it's still only halfway through the year and we've still got the much-anticipated Inside Man to come, for instance. Anyway, back to Sherwood. The drama, starring Lesley Manville, David Morrissey, Robert Glenister, Clare Holman, Claire Rushbrook, Philip Jackson, Joanne Froggatt, Alun Armstrong, Lindsay Duncan and Stephen Tompkinson amongst literally dozens of From The North favourites, centres around the hunt for a killer tormenting a fractured Nottinghamshire community. It has had glowing reviews (albeit, with most of the reviewers vying with each other to see who could come up with the most groan-inducing Robin Hood puns) and the BBC announced on Wednesday that a second series has already been commissioned. The Torygraph's review of the finale suggested that the drama was 'authentic, devastating and perfectly cast.' Significantly, it wasn't written by That Awful Singh Woman. In fact, the paper's critic, Alex Diggins, wrote: '2022 has been a purple patch for grown-up, serious drama on the BBC. The Tourist, The Responder and This Is Going To Hurt were all excellent. But in the clarity of its storytelling and the authenticity of its atmosphere, Sherwood split the bullseye: the best BBC drama of the year so far and I'd hazard some time to come. No wonder it's just been recommissioned for a second series.' One cannot imagine That Awful, Sour-Faced Singh Woman being so enthused. Or articulate. Two grizzly murders and the toxic legacy of an industrial dispute that drove families apart lie at the heart of the drama, which was inspired by real-life events in writer James Graham's home town. It follows two police officers in a village still scarred by the divisions laid down during the miners' strike decades earlier. Diggins added that Nottinghamshire-born Graham's 'story of murder, scabs and old wounds has proved to be so much more than a simple crime drama.' The show, he said, contains 'ringing echoes' of the mythology of Robin Hood and, moreover, 'believable people, in a believable world, broken on the rack of history and their own mistakes.'
The Gruniad Morning Star seemed to agree, also offering as glowing review by That Awful Mangan Woman. Who, seemingly, got most of her bile out of her system with that ludicrously sneering (and punchable) review of The Midwich Cuckoos a few weeks ago, already ripped into tiny pieces, spat upon and given the metaphorical slapping it so richly deserved by this blog. That Awful Mangan Woman wrote that Sherwood's 'gloriously directed, superbly written ending was quietly devastating.' She said: 'The entire cast has been rightly and unanimously lauded. Sherwood has been stuffed with the unquestionable best of a generation of British acting talent in Manville, Morrissey, Lorraine Ashbourne (who gets all the work she deserves but not always the glory - despite never failing to convince absolutely every moment she's on screen) and those filling every other main role. They all had a fine script to work with and glorious direction that made it even more than the sum of its parts. Every arrow found its mark.' Reviewing the penultimate episode of the drama the previous evening, however, some waste-of-space louse at the Daily Scum Mail was less impressed. 'Sherwood has been a disappointment, with storylines as flat as the beer,'claimed that odious, hateful Christopher Stephens, quite wrongly. But then, this is the Daily Scum Mail we're talking about. If they told this blogger black was a darker shade than white, he'd still want a second opinion. 'The cast is outstanding, crammed with more top actors than a Harry Potter movie. But even the talents of Lorraine Ashbourne, Mark Addy, Pip Torrens, Adeel Akhtar, David Morrissey and Robert Glenister can't cover up the yawning illogicalities in the plot.' The loathsome Stevens's colleague, Sarah Vine, had previously described the show as 'utterly compelling.' Proving that, like a broken clock, even the Daily Scum Mailcan be right twice a day. But, it usually isn't. As the BBC announced that filming for series two would commence next year, Graham said that he wrote the show as 'a warning' that 'when communities are divided, the pain endures. Our history shows how the forces of polarisation have been weaponised to achieve political ends,' he wrote in the Gruniad Morning Star. 'It was this, rather than any desire to create a traditional crime show, that drove me to write Sherwood.' Morrissey - giving probably his best performance since State Of Play (Jackson Lake notwithstanding) said it had been 'a wonderful ride.' And this blogger's view, since David wants to know? He thought it was very, very, very good. Satisfied, David?
Advertising breaks on UK television channels could get longer and more frequent as part of a review of broadcasting rules by the regulator Ofcom. A politically-appointed quango, elected by no one. The frequency and length of advertising will be 'reassessed' in light of 'evolving viewing habits' and the rise of streaming services, Ofcom claimed. One or two people believed them. The regulator pledged to 'listen to different views and examine what TV viewers say' before any changes. No one believed that. It previously said the frequency of adverts 'could' be 'seen as disruptive' to viewing. No shit? That's a bit like saying that if you step in a pile of dogshit, your shoes 'could' stink. The regulator's current rules state that, for ITV, Channel 4 and Channel 5, the 'total amount of advertising in any one day must not exceed an average of seven minutes per hour of broadcasting.' The channels can run advertising breaks of up to eight minutes per hour during prime-time periods. Other commercial channels are allowed up to nine minutes of advertising per hour of broadcasting, plus an extra three minutes for teleshopping. Discussing the review, an Ofcom spokesman claimed the regulator needed 'to strike the right balance between protecting viewers' interests and sustaining our traditional broadcasters.' The review on advertising frequency and length was mentioned in an Ofcom report to the lack of culture secretary That Awful Dorries Woman on the PSB licences of the three terrestrial commercial channels. The report said: 'We are also looking at the rules that set the frequency and length of advertising on broadcast TV. These rules are complex, with limits in place for public service broadcasters that are stricter than the rules set for commercial broadcasters. We have had initial discussions with stakeholders and we expect to be able to outline our next steps later this summer.' ITV and Channel 5 are privately owned and funded entirely through advertising. Their public service broadcasting licences are due to expire in 2024 - but Ofcom advised That Awful Dorries Woman it believed there was a 'good case' to renew both licences. Subscription streaming services like Netflix and Disney+, which do not carry advertising for most subscribers, are set to be regulated by Ofcom for the first time in a move that had long been requested by traditional broadcasters. Previous Ofcom research found that many older audiences 'often prefer to record content as a series so that they can skip the ads' - while younger viewers also voiced 'frustrations' with the amount of adverts. In a statement, an Ofcom spokesman said: 'We're scoping a range of options, but before we form any plans we'll listen to different views and examine what TV viewers say. We need to strike the right balance between protecting viewers' interests and sustaining our traditional broadcasters, which includes helping them compete with American streaming platforms.'
The latest edition of Talking Pictures'The Cellar Club on Friday night included a very rare - but, equally welcome - TV showing of Pete Walker's astonishing, censor-baiting House Of Whipcord (1974) a movie which looms large in this blogger's legend. As Keith Telly Topping wrote in A Vault Of Horror (still available from those gorgeous, luscious, pouting folk at Telos Books for a very reasonable price): 'Often alleged to be one of the grottiest, nastiest films ever made, House Of Whipcord is, actually, a very intelligent, ambitious movie with some interesting things to say about corporal and capital punishment and with a very cynical view of right-wing moral outrage at The Permissive Society ... [It] features little nudity, hardly any blood and the film's reputation, as The Godfather of S&M movies, is vastly undeserved. What it is, despite all this, is a terrifyingly intense film that exposes the morally bankrupt nature of those for whom no punishment is ever considered to be harsh enough.' Personally, this blogger think it's Walker's masterpiece although Keith Telly Topping also has a real soft spot for both Die Screaming, Marianne and House Of Mortal Sin.
Kevin Lyons of the BFI website's article Ten Great Overlooked British Horror Films Of The 1970s - Because There's A World Beyond The Wicker Man doesn't include House Of Whipcord (although it is mentioned in the brief review of one of Walker's other highly confrontational movies, Frightmare. But, the article itself is well worth a read, dear blog readers; anyone who rates From The North favourites such as Death Line, The Creeping Flesh, From Beyond The Grave and José Larraz's Vampyres highly is okay in this blogger's book.
This blogger has to observe, dear blog reader, that there is starting to be something genuinely annoying about his constantly waking up geet early on a Monday morning due to chronic insomnia, getting the bus down to ALDI and then struggling back to The Stately Telly Topping Manor Plague House with a week's worth of necessary supplies. Just so that, a medical appointment the following day notwithstanding, he didn't have to go out again during the week. Especially as, half-way through the shopping, this blogger suddenly realised that he was absolutely bustin' for a Jimmy Riddle. That made the trip back on the bus just that bit quicker than it might have been under different circumstances. Though, despite enormous temptation, it didn't lead to several choruses of 'Stop the bus, I want a wee-wee.' Which was a blessing for all concerned, frankly. Plus there was the weather. That day was Muggy. Followed, somewhat inevitably, by Tuggy, then Weggy ... Come on, dear blog readers, Keith Telly Topping is working with limited material, here.
We come, then, with an appalling inevitability to the inexcusably regular part of From The North dedicated to this blogger's on-going medical-related doings. For those dear blog readers who haven't been following this on-going saga which seems to have been on-going longer than Status Quo's entire career, it goes something like this: This blogger spent weeks feeling wretched; had five days in hospital; was discharged; received B12 injections; then more injections; recovered his appetite; got a diagnosis; had a consultants meeting; continued to suffer from fatigue and insomnia; endured a second endoscopy; had anotherconsultation; got toothache; had an extraction; which took ages to heal; had yet another consultation; spent a whole week where nothing remotely health-related occurred; was given further - really painful - injections; did another hospital visit for an echocardiogram and paid one further visit to the medical centre for yet anotherbit of blood extraction. As yer actual Keith Telly Topping's medical team continue to search, seemingly in vain, for the reasons behind this blogger's current incapacity.
This week, this blogger's bi-monthly meeting with his consultant, Doctor Sarah took place on Tuesday. The bad news is there's still absolutely no clue whatsoever as to what has been causing the fatigue and insomnia, the ankle oedema, the breathlessness and occasional dizziness, the malabsorption, the frequently feeling cold and all of the other lingering symptoms that this blogger has been suffering from - other than that they're all, directly or indirectly, related to the anaemia and/or, the B-12/Vitamin D/Folic Acid deficiencies(s). The good news, however, is that the recent echocardiogram was ace ('you're as strong as a horse' Doctor Sarah said in obvious surprise. 'Christ only knows how' an equally shocked - and stunned - Keith Telly Topping replied). Also, latest blood tests were all normal (except for the, already known about, Vitamin D deficiency and also a Zinc deficiency which was a new one on both of us but which Doctor Sarah said that she wasn't too worried about. This blogger then had a series of blood pressure tests with Nurse John; lying, standing, sitting and then standing again to see if any of those were the cause of the lightheadedness which this blogger sometimes gets first thing in the morning when slithering, reluctantly, out of his pit. Seemingly not - they were all well within acceptable levels (although Nurse John did note that this blogger's heart-rate was much lower when lying down than sitting or standing, although none of the levels were in any way out of the ordinary). Finally, they requested a wee-wee-in-a-bottle for testing. This blogger didn't particularly need to go but he managed to do his duty (using the time-honoured method of turning on the tap in the lavatory and thinking about rivers and lakes). The next appointment should be in about two months. Doctor Sarah said that she was, quote, 'delighted' with this blogger's progress thus far and that he should not get too stressed about the on-going fatigue - that can take months to clear up. She is, still, slightly concerned about the insomnia which is, obviously, at least in part connected to the fatigue and advised afternoon naps (which this blogger is doing anyway) and some light exercise if Keith Telly Topping feels up to it (to the shops and back once every couple of days was one of the suggestions). 
Nevertheless, for the rest of Tuesday and, indeed, all of the following day this blogger found himself absolutely exhausted; it appears that getting to and from the hospital took more out of this blogger than he had realised at the time. Mind you, the insomnia-interrupted night he previously spent didn't help.
That said, some things in this blogger's life are - and remain - really deserved.
Jos Buttler has been named as England cricket team's new white-ball captain. The superstar batsman-wicketkeeper replaces World Cup-winning former captain Eoin Morgan, who retired from international cricket this week after injury. Buttler was Morgan's vice-captain and has led England in nine one-day internationals and five Twenty20s when Morgan was unavailable. 'It is the greatest honour to captain your country - I can't wait to take this team forward,' he said. Buttler's first assignment as captain will come against India, with three T20s and three ODIs from 7 July. Series against South Africa, Pakistan and Australia follow before the T20 World Cup in Australia from October. Buttler will work alongside newly-appointed Australian head coach Matthew Mott, with the pair looking to build a side also capable of defending the fifty-over World Cup in India in October 2023. He added: 'It is a great honour to take over from Eoin and the place he has left English white-ball cricket in is exciting. I'm inspired for the challenges ahead. He has been an inspirational leader, and it has been fantastic to play under him. There are lots of things that I have learnt from him that I'll take into this role.' Big Rob Key, managing director of England men's cricket, said: 'Jos Buttler was the perfect choice to succeed Eoin Morgan as our white-ball captain and I had no hesitation in offering him the role. Jos has been part of our white-ball set-up for over a decade and was integral in the transformation of the way the team has played its attacking brand of cricket over the past seven years. I believe the extra responsibility will take his game to a new level and inspire those around him.' As stand-in captain, Buttler won six ODIs and three T20s. The right-hander is one of three England players, alongside Heather Knight and Dawid Malan, to have scored centuries in all three formats and has also hit England's three fastest ODI hundreds. He has played in one hundred and fifty one ODIs and scored four thousand one hundred and twenty runs, with ten centuries, while he has made over two thousand runs in eighty eight T20s. All-rounder Moeen Ali, who is a regular part of England's white-ball team, told Test Match Special: 'Jos is definitely the right guy. He will have this own way and style. I don't know what else he could bring but I do think he'll bring his own way in terms of innovation and he'll try take it to the next level, whatever that is.' Test captain Ben Stokes told BBC Sport that Buttler was the 'obvious choice', adding: 'He's got the same ethos and he'll carry on Morgs' legacy no doubt. I don't think you'll see any change in the way that we go out there and play.' Stokes also confirmed that he wants to play white-ball cricket this summer, saying he has 'missed playing' one-day cricket for England.
It doesn't seem nowt but a couple of weeks ago that the last socher-ball season ended. Nevertheless, some players are already back in pre-season training, including most of those from this blogger's beloved (and now, thankfully, sold) Magpies. It has, in fact, been but thirty nine days since the players last reported for duty - ending the 2021-22 season on a high by beating extremely relegated Burnley at Turf Moor. Wor Geet Canny Eddie Howe, quite remarkably in the end, helped to steer the club away from what - until around Christmas time - seemed a certain relegation as United finished the campaign eleventh in the Premiership on forty nine points. That was their highest top-flight total in eight years. Friday saw the majority of Newcastle's first team squad begin their pre-season preparations at Darsley Park. Dan Burn, Martin Dubravka, Paul Dummett, Federico Fernandez, Ryan Fraser, Mark Gillespie, Joelinton, Jamaal Lascelles, Sean Longstaff, Jacob Murphy, Matt Ritchie, Allan Saint-Maximin, Jonjo Shelvey, Matt Targett, Joe Willock and Callum Wilson were all spotted. Matty Longstaff and Kell Watts were also present, having ended last season on-loan in the Football League. Completing the line-up on day one were Jamal Lewis, Lucas De Bolle and a sprinkling of Under Twenty One squad members. Kieran Trippier, Bruno Guimarães Rodriguez Moura, Miguel Almiron, Chris Wood and summer signings Nick Pope and Sven Botman were absent as they have been given some extra-time off after being on international duty last month. Steady Eddie's side host National League North champions Gatesheed in a behind-closed-doors friendly at the club's training centre next Saturday before jetting off to Austria for a week-long training camp. In Austria, Newcastle will face 1860 Munich and Mainz. Others confirmed friendlies for Th' Toon include Benfica, Atalanta and Athletic Bilbao - the latter two at St James' Park on 29 and 30 July. The Premier League season kicks off on 6 August with United at home to recently-promoted Nottingham Forest. 
Five British citizens were unlawfully killed when Malaysian Airlines flight MH17 was shot down in Eastern Ukraine, a coroner has concluded. A joint inquest into the deaths of five of the two hundred and ninety eight on board has been held in Leicester, where their bodies were repatriated to. The court heard evidence that a Buk missile was fired from Ukraine by pro-Russian separatists. It exploded in front of the cockpit of the aircraft, the inquest heard. Fragments of the missile then killed crew members in the cockpit and caused significant damage to the aircraft, causing it to break-up. The aircraft was travelling from Amsterdam to Kuala Lumpur on 17 July 2014 when it was shot down. The inquest heard evidence from Detective Chief Superintendent Dominic Murphy, from the Counter Terrorism Command of the Metropolitan Police. He said that a criminal investigation taking place in The Hague had identified four individuals as possibly being responsible for the missile and they were being tried in their absence. 'MH17 departed from Amsterdam and it had been flying for about three hours when it lost contact with air traffic control,' he said, summarising an investigation by the Dutch Safety Board. Fragments of metal were found in the bodies of crew members when their remains were recovered, he added. He said that the missile system appeared to have been smuggled over the border to Ukraine from Russia on 16 and 17 July. As this blogger mentioning in From The North's reporting of this sickening outrage at the time, this blogger actually knew (albeit, only slightly) one of the victims, John Alder. Speaking at the inquest, Senior Coroner Professor Catherine Mason said: 'I am satisfied that MH17 was shot down by a Buk missile fired by pro-Russian separatists. Taking all of the evidence into account, an appropriate conclusion in relation to the deaths of Liam Sweeney, Richard Mayne, Glenn Thomas, John Alder and Ben Pocock is that they were unlawfully killed. I am truly sorry that we meet today as a result of such a tragic and shocking incident.'
And finally, dear blog reader the latest winner of the From The North Headline Of The Week award goes to the Yorkshire Live website for Huddersfield Cul-De-Sac Residents Furious As Maggot-Infested Overflowing Bins 'Not Emptied For Two Weeks'. Personally, this blogger blames whomsoever it was that put all the maggots in there in the first place.

B Crumble & The Stinkers: The British Post-War B-Movie - A Re-Assessment

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It is a necessary truism that, in life, the passage of time inevitably leads the individual to re-evaluate certain things which were once beliefs, set in stone. Was the Graham Williams era of Doctor Who over-reliant on self-aggrandising comedy? (No, it was not.) Did Pink Floyd's records after Syd went mad have any merit whatsoever or were they all just a load of tuneless hippy drivel? (The former, mostly, though not exclusively.) When did everything start to go to Hell in a hand cart? (It was probably when some oaf thought it was a good idea to introduce Freddie Flintoff to Paddy McGuinness.) How does Piers Morgan sleep at nights? (... No, this blogger still doesn't have an answer to that.) The latest such, potentially Earth-shattering, question this blogger has had to address is 'were there any good British B-movies of the 1940s, 1950s and 1960s'? Because, if you listen to many people who claim that they know what they're talking about, the answer will be a big negative. 
This blogger is of a certain age, dear blog reader. You may have noticed. He was a child who had his imagination fired into orbit by television. Hence, the reason for this blog's existence. Had he been born a decade earlier than 1963, it would likely have been the cinema which dominated his worldview and his more fanciful notions in those important formative years. As this blogger wrote in a couple of decades ago in A Vault Of Horror concerning his discovery of horror movies during the 1970s: 'Being twelve, I couldn't satisfy my new found addiction with a splatter movie at the local ABC (that interesting diversion was yet to come). My initial access, therefore, was entirely through television.' This blogger has, previously, mentioned that the first four movies he was taken to see as a youngling were The Aristocats and Yellow Submarine (both at the Haymarket Odeon) and Bedknobs & Broomsticks and Diamonds Are Forever (both at the Byker Apollo) during the 1970 to 1971 period. He still stands by those as a pretty decent entry point to the medium. Cinema, however, was then what it remains for this blogger to this day, a 'once every few months' treat rather than a 'we come along on Saturday morning, greeting everybody with a smile' weekly occurrence as it was for many of this blogger's older brothers' generation. That situation could have be different had a cinema within two minutes walking distance of The Stately Telly Topping Manor, The Gloria, not been turned into a bingo hall at just about the time this blogger reached an age where going to the flicks regularly was something he would've been interested in. 'Bingo and rock are pushing out X-ratings,' indeed.
The fact that by then the British film industry was, if not on its deathbed then, at the very least, coughing up blood and looking not-at-all well didn't help matters. That situation, of course, would get worse in the following years. Prime example (and, a bit of social history): On 17 October 1973, in response to the escalating Yom Kippur war, OPEC, the Arab oil producing countries, cut production and quadrupled the world price of oil. This, effectively, ended the relative affluence on which, as Ian MacDonald wrote in Revolution In The Head, 'the preceding ten years of happy-go-lucky excess in the West had chiefly depended.' It's a far less sentimental suggestion for 'the day that the 1960s (conceptually) ended' than some symbolic musical event, but it's probably a more realistic one. The resulting financial crisis in Europe sent inflation spiralling. It was the moment when, almost overnight, The Swinging Sixties turned into the 'sober and soon-to-be-unemployed' Seventies and all but destroyed what was left of the British film industry. As a bizarre coincidence, on that same day England's football team - needing a win to progress - drew with Poland in a World Cup qualifier at Wembley. This failure to reach the final stages of a tournament that England had actually won eight years previously may seem insignificant in the great scheme of thing. But, just as that famous 'some people are on the pitch' victory over West Germany in 1966 appeared to encapsulate the spirit of an era - when England (and, specifically, London) was on top of the world - so the gloom which settled over the country during the winter of 1973-74, with its three-day weeks, power cuts and 'cod war' with Iceland, was inextricably tied to the failing fortunes of Sir Alf Ramsey's ageing side. So, you see dear blog reader, all this malarkey really was Norman Hunter and Peter Shilton's fault. Don't let anyone tell you differently.
This blogger has recently been re-reading The British B Film, by Steve Chibnall and Brian McFarlane, first published in 2009. This excellent book's initial release was the first sign of a flowering interest in British 'second feature' movies that, steadily, became more observed in the years since. With companies like Network, Renown Films and Odeon Entertainment eagerly searching the back catalogues of studios such as Merton Park and Butcher's for product and the unexpected, but very welcome, success of the dedicated 'heritage' Freeview channel Talking Pictures, it has become easier than ever to see many films which, for a long time, had been gathering dust on a shelf in some archive or other. In 2008 the journalist, broadcaster and cultural historian Matthew Sweet (a Facebook fiend of this blogger, as it happens), who has done as much as anyone to rekindle interest in this much-neglected aspect of British film production, made an acclaimed documentary for BBC Four. The focus of Truly, Madly, Cheaply!, was across a board spectrum of many types of B-movies from the 'quota quickies' of the 1930s, through the science-fiction, horror and teen-beat dramas of the 1950s and onto the horror-and-sexploitation cross-pollination of the late 1960s and beyond. Published a year after Matthew's documentary, The British B Film was claimed to be 'the first book to provide a thorough examination of the British B-movie, from the war years to the 1960s.' The authors - Chibnall, the Professor of British Cinema at De Montfort University and McFarlane, a Visiting Professor at the University of Hull - drew on phenomenal archival research, contemporary trade papers and interviews with numerous key filmmakers to map the B-movie phenomenon as artefact, as industry product and as a reflection of their times and location.
Of course, there is an element of theoretical McLuhanism in all of this sudden interest in the neglected and forgotten (it's not what you say that's important, Marshall McLuhan always reckoned, rather it's the way you say it). And, additionally, a rather faux naïf assumption on the part of many commentators that things can be neatly fitted into specific boxes. For example, Milligan, Sellers, Secombe and Bentine's early foray into film - Maclean Rogers' 1952 stuttering transfer of Goonery to a visual medium Down Among The Z-Men - or John Paddy Carstairs' 1953 pre-St Trinian's malarkey, Top Of The Form are as much a part of the story of the British B-movie as, for example, Three Steps In The Dark, Stryker Of The Yard or Noose For A Lady, all from that same year.
Chibnall and McFarlane's story begins in September 1960, when two films were shooting, simultaneously, at Pinewood. One was the Twentieth Century-Fox production of Cleopatra, eventually directed by Joseph Mankiewicz after Rouben Mamoulian had walked away from the, already way over-budget, project. It, of course, starred Elizabeth Taylor and Richard Burton, the world's most famous celebrity couple. The other film was Alfred Shaughnessy's thriller The Impersonator, starring the American actor John Crawford, Jane Griffiths, John Salew and Patricia Blake. The media were not interested in the slightest in The Impersonator (although it did, apparently, get some quite good contemporary reviews from critics like Penelope Gilliatt and Dilys Powell). Its stars were hardly household names, its modest budget of twenty three thousand knicker indicated an 'unimportant' - and worse in the eyes of many of the more sneering commentators, 'British' - film and its genre, the crime thriller, was often ignored by critics on general principle. By contrast Taylor and Burton and their tempestuous romantic and marital entanglements, brought the world's press rushing to Iver Heath, camera bulbs a-flashin'. Playboy even published photos of Liz as the Queen of the Nile almost-but-not-quite-in-The-Nip. These reasons - and the fact that the protracted shoot and costly shutdowns due to Liz's various health issues almost bankrupted Fox - ensured that Cleopatra (at the time the most expensive movie ever made) remained in circulation (via television and then video and DVD) long-after it finally reached cinemas in 1963. Eventually, it even made a profit. The Impersonator on the other hand, in many ways a superior film, quickly disappeared from circulation - and was forgotten. In The British B Film, Chibnall and McFarlane describe The Impersonator as 'exceptionally proficient' which is not, as you might think, damning it with faint praise. The release of The Impersonator was also part of the final phase of the story of British B-movies: 'When the curtain comes down - as it literally does - in the last frames of The Impersonator, it signals a wider finality,' the authors note. 'The black-and-white British 'B' film, which has supplied thirty years of indigenous supporting-feature entertainment and just about out-lived its American counterpart, is coming to a close.'
If one has an issue with Matthew Sweet's documentary - and it's a very minor one - it is that viewers coming fresh to this arena of British movie production could take away from Truly, Madly, Cheaply! the notion that most British B-movies were cheap and nasty 'genre' films - Trog, Harrison Marks' notorious nudie-flick Naked As Nature Intended or David MacDonald's endearingly daft Devil Girl From Mars (1954), for instance. Rather than the steady flow of, often very high quality, crime thrillers which were the mainstay of the British B-movies in the post-war period. That said, though, Matthew's respectful comparison of Wolf Rilla's The Black Rider (1954) with The Wild One - along with Sweet's mate Mark Gatiss' in-depth analysis of the prominent role of Jimmy Hanley's bottom in the former - is worth the licence fee in and of itself.
By contrast, Chibnall and McFarlane's book systematically examines the cultural policies, production economics and audience demand for the low-budget British film between 1940 and 1965. And, it avoids the temptation to perpetuate the sort of banal stereotypes so often associated with the words 'be' and 'movie'. It does not begin at the start of the production of B-movies in the UK, as the pre-1940 period had already been covered in an earlier book by the duo, Quota Quickies (published in 2007). Instead, it kicks-off around the end of the Second World War, a period when the B-movie was, effectively, facing it's darkest hour.
So what, exactly, was a British B-movie? Well, the British part at least should be self-explanatory. As for the movies themselves, the 1927 Cinematograph Films Act (which became law on 1 April 1928), was a bid to stem the flow of American films which were, at the time, threatening to flood the UK market. By the act, exhibitors were required to devote a percentage of their screen-space to British-registered films.
This, in turn, cracked open the door to economic viability for - cheap - British second features, creating the conditions for what came (disparagingly) to be known as the 'quota quickies'; British films made as cheaply (and quickly) as possible safe in the knowledge that they would be guaranteed a release and, presumably, an audience. Although in more than a few worst case scenarios, such films were sometimes shown in cinemas during the mornings, whilst the cleaners were still in, simply to fit in with the letter - if not the spirit - of the new law. However, during the Second World War there was a determined effort by the industry as a whole to phase out low-budget second features in an attempt to create cinema programmes of A-list films supported by a, rather perfunctory, number of shorts. This move was accompanied by the government's publicly-stated preference for 'educational' documentaries rather than cheap genre films to fill the 'supporting feature' role. These factors, combined with rising costs and a shortage of studio space (not to mention rationing), resulted in a marked decline in the production of British B-movies during 1943 and 1944. As the second feature declined, the featurette - short documentary films with a running time of around thirty minutes - tended to take over as the support to the latest Hollywood (or, indeed, Elstree or Ealing) blockbuster.
Soon the war came to an end. You probably heard about it, dear blog reader. It was on The News and everything. The Nazi's were defeated and Hitler (who only had one) died. In a ditch, on fire. Which was good because he was a fascist fucker and no one liked him. With regard to cinema, however, the battle lines were now in the process of being drawn between those who favoured a return of regular B-movies and those who preferred featurettes. Hitler, had he lived and expressed a preference, would've been in the latter camp. Probably. The result, joyously, was decided by the public and by the exhibitors both of whom, seemingly, wanted B-films, albeit for vastly different reasons. While the public rejected the 'one feature film only' policy and demanded two films as a 'value for my money' thing ('what's on with the main film?' became a standard query at the Box Office for the next decade-and-a-half), exhibitors opposed having state-sponsored documentaries foisted upon them, which they considered a form of government propaganda. And, to be fair, most of those produced during wartime were exactly that, although they still produced some work of genuine merit. Take, for instance Gilbert Gunn's 1944 short, Tyneside Story. Produced by the Ministry of Information, the main purpose of the film was to recruit men and, especially, women to work in the shipyards of Wallsend and Hebburn. Whether it succeeded in this aim is debateable, but at the end of the film, the question is posed in a quite remarkable, impassioned speech (by the actor FR Gibson, one of many recruited from Heaton's People's Theatre) as to what the yards would be like five years hence without significant investment. Written by the Newcastle-born essayist and author Jack Common (a close friend of George Orwell), Tyneside Story has been described as 'a tiny understated gem.' It's also worth noting that such notable film-makers as Michael Powell and Emeric Pressburger (The Volunteer) and Alfred Hitchcock (Bon Voyage) made movies for the MOI during the war.
'On the one side stood the major producers, British and American, who were interested in making longer and more lavish pictures that would draw audiences as a single attraction (with only a perfunctory supporting programme),' Chinball and McFarlane declared. 'Ranged against them - and poorly equipped - was the army of small film-makers, whose interests lay in the double bill and flexible cinema programming. What power they had come not from any economic muscle, but from the stubborn resistance of cinema audiences to any attacks on a two-feature programme that they regarded as value for money.' However, the shortage and expense of studio facilities remained major obstacles to second feature production. Chibnall and McFarlane note that in 1947 there were fifteen working film studios in the country, with fifty one sound stages. The cost of renting these facilities, though, was beyond the economic reach of most B-movie producers. Ironically, the government then came to the rescue yet again with a series of regulations, such as the 1947 ad valorem duty on imported American films and the 1948 Film Act. This resulted in a reduction of American capital for the production of main features and, consequently, the urgent need for home-grown product to fill British screens.
The production of B-movies was further encouraged in 1950 by The Eady Levy which returned a percentage of cinema proceeds to local productions. Several low-budget production companies, notably Hammer, benefitted from this and crafted a profitable association with some American producers. This resulted in an influx of American actors, directors and screenwriters, including those eager to find work in Britain due to the blacklists imposed on many American film-makers as a result of HUAC investigations. This triggered something of a 'golden age' of the British B-movie production which lasted until the early-1960s. Its obituary, according to the authors, was announced in 1967 when The Times (23 January) claimed that the Film Producers Association estimated that the minimum cost of a second feature (approximately twenty four grand) regularly exceeded the maximum amount which could be recouped for the movie in the UK. Which was alleged to be only sixteen thousand smackers.
Of course, technically speaking, 'B-movies'per se didn't end in the mid-Sixties, they carried on being produced, spasmodically, well into the 1970s; indeed, it could be argued that the trend of 'double-bill features' which briefly flourished in the UK around the start of the new decade was a continuation of what had, previously, been standard practice. Thus, although not satisfying most of the criteria for being a B-movie, per se, it could be argued that The Wicker Man started its cinematic life as exactly that, first appearing as the supporting feature to Don't Look Now in late 1973. The same could be argued about another two of this blogger's favourite British horror movies of that era, The Corpse (whose 1972 UK cinema run was on the bottom-half of a double bill with an American proto-slasher movie Psycho Killer) and Captain Kronos - Vampire Hunter (which had the misfortune to share it's belated 1974 release as support to a, not very distinguished, Shaw Brothers kung-fu movie, The Girl With The Thunderbolt Kick). There are other examples.
Nevertheless, that - real or imagined - 'golden age' period of about fifteen years produced many remarkable movies and became a useful training academy for actors, directors and technicians with small independent companies, such as The Danzigers, Butcher's, Tempean and Anglo-Amalgamated. All of them seeking to fill gaps in the market and meet the needs of a public who still expected to get a full programme of entertainment for their shilling. Chibnall and McFarlane, in the third chapter of The British B Film, provide a comprehensive overview of the so-called 'B Factories', the companies, the studios and the producers. These included, in addition to those already mentioned, Highbury Studios, who were acquired by The Rank Organisation, Adelphi, ACT Films, EJ Fancey, a family business which included distributors DUK and New Realm as well as the production company Border, Eros, Vandyke, Anderson Povis Films, Brighton Studios, Apex Productions, Guido Coen, Bill Luckwell and Independent Artists. B-movies were, usually, around sixty minutes in length (there are quite a number of exceptions but, as a general rule, that's the sort of running time which could, subsequently, be sold in syndication to TV networks around the world (see, for example what would become known, on television, as The Edgar Wallace Mysteries).
Chibnall and McFarlane also compare the themes and tone of British B-movies with the work done in the USA, both the 'Poverty Row' studios - a majority with their curiously Ayn Rand-style objectivist philosophy - as well as some of the Hollywood majors. A point was made in the previous Quota Quickies: The Birth Of The British B Film, that while critique and academic historical analysis of the American B-movie industry was already being published in the 1960s, the equivalent British films had to wait another three decades or more before anyone began to pay them any form of attention. However, with the publication of both Quota Quickies and The British 'B' Film, that situation is now somewhat reversed. There have been studies of selected US studios, some of the films they produced and the individuals who made them and Todd McCarthy and Charles Flynn's collection of articles and interviews, King Of The Bs: Working Within The Hollywood System, remains of considerable value to film scholars. If you can get your hands on a copy because it has, seemingly, been out of print since the late-1970s. By contrast, anyone studying the British B-movies can now, at least, draw on two books providing a detailed narrative which runs from the 1920s to the 1960s.
A comparison between American and British work in this territory also highlights another distinct contrast. Interest in the Hollywood B-movies has often tended to focus on the auteur (epitomised by Edgar Ulmer or, later, Roger Corman). Chibnall and McFarlane provide a chapter on the British film-makers, but here - as elsewhere - they are rigorously inclusive in their focus, also discussing the contributions of screenwriters, cinematographers and composers and devoting as much space to the films of, say, Godfrey Grayson - some 'sporadically lively in their undemanding way', others 'beyond reclamation' - as to a once major industry figure like Maurice Elvey. Other chapters look at actors and genres, how Britain was portrayed in the B-movie and how many of these films were moulded by cultural matters, the economics of the film industry and the changing habits in cinema-goers themselves.
An amusing point that Chibnall and McFarlane make is that the, perhaps, unspoken assumptions about daily life in Britain are what makes many of these films such a genuine delight. And, such an important observation of a specific time and place; getaway cars parked - entirely unsuspiciously - right outside banks or jewellers without being hindered by the traffic as they make their escape, even in Central London. Or, the extraordinary amounts of alcohol being consumed at all times of the day or night - the middle and upper classes being 'almost incapable of entering a living room without crossing straight to the drinks cabinet,' in Chibnall and McFarlane's words. Often followed, rather worryingly, by sloshed, well-off characters getting into their cars to drive home; heaven help any oiks who may get in their way.
Chapter Four of The British B Film surveys directors on the rise - John Gilling, Ken Hughes, Don Chaffey, Terence Fisher and Wolf Rilla - as well as some of those going in the opposite direction from the heights of their larger-budgeted movies of the past. This includes David MacDonald, Lance Comfort, Montgomery Tully, Vernon Sewell, Leslie Arliss, Lawrence Huntington, Bernard Knowles and the previous mentioned Elvey. Chibnall and McFarlane also celebrate those directors, such as Ernest Morris, Oswald Mitchell, Francis Searle, Michael McCarthy and Terry Bishop, who never really ,ade it beyond the B-movie field. Screenwriters like Brian Clemens, Mark Grantham, Brandon Fleming, Norman Hudis, Brock Williams and Doreen Montgomery - one of the few female writers working on B-movies - are also acknowledged alongside cinematographers like Monty Berman, Basil Emmott, Walter J Harvey, James Wilson, Geoffrey Faithfull and Arthur Grant.
There's also a lot of space given to the actors. Lee Paterson, Ronald Howard, Conrad Phillips, Donald Houston, Dermot Walsh, William Lucas, Peter Reynolds, From The North favourites Hazel Court, Barbara Shelley and Honor Blackman, Sandra Dorne, Barbara Murray, Zena Marshall, Maureen Connell, Susan Shaw, Rona Anderson and Jane Hylton all have their careers assessed. Anderson writes the book's witty and affectionate Foreword. 'When I was actually involved in B-features in the 1950s, no one took them seriously because they were churned out in three weeks,' she notes. 'But the fact that they were made quickly was the result of everyone concerned being so experienced. They knew what they were doing and there was no waste of time or money.'
The book rightfully acknowledges the significance of the impact of expatriate Hollywood directors on the British film industry. Some, including blacklisted American writers like Oscar winners Carl Foreman and Howard Koch along with Joseph Losey and Cy Endfield, often worked anonymously in Britain. Others, such as Richard Landau, sent their scripts across the Atlantic by airmail. The British B-movie in the 1950s also benefited from the presence of much Hollywood acting talent. Some were primarily character actors, or those who never quite reached the top; Dan Duryea, Alex Nicol, Dane Clark, John Ireland, Zachary Scott, Lloyd Bridges, Scot Brady, Robert Hutton, Richard Carlson, Wayne Morris, Richard Denning, Arthur Kennedy, Mary Castle, Marguerite Chapman, Mary Murphy, Faith Domergue, Hilary Brooke, Marsha Hunt, Phyllis Kirk, From The North favourite Kim Hunter, Carole Matthews and Macdonald Carey. Others were former A-listers who, for a variety of reasons, had lost their status in Los Angeles - including Paulette Goddard, who made her last movie in the UK, Terence Fisher'sA Stranger Came Home (1954), George Brent, Paul Henreid, Larry Parks and George Raft. This list also includes two women who escaped toxic scandals in California: Barbara Payton and Lizabeth Scott. The latter's trip to the UK for the Hammer-Lippert co-production Stolen Face (another by the great Terence Fisher, 1952) took place as her Hollywood star was on the wane and, by the time she returned to the UK for Lance Comfort's The Weapon (1956), her stateside career was, effectively over.
Though B-mives were largely ignored or, if they were covered, dismissed by film publications like The Monthly Film Bulletin, there were some notable exceptions. Independent Artists'October Moth (John Kruse, 1960) for instance was an atmospheric chiller which follows a mentally unstable farmer as he kidnaps an injured woman who he believes to be his dead mother. He holds her hostage in a farmhouse with his terrified sister (Lana Morris) while playing out his dark, Oedipal fantasies. The film, expressionistic in its use of light and shadow, received several positive notices for this and for the camerawork which aided Lee Patterson's portrayal of a tormented young man, aesthetic qualities which were rarely associated with this type of production.
However, as television became more popular and Hollywood, in particular, fought back with sumptuous Technicolor in panoramic vision (along with 3-D, Smell-o-Vision and William Castle wiring up cinema seats with mild electric shocks, all in an effort to lure audiences back), the British B-movie was being squeezed by both sides. And, by the mid-1960s, the sort of low budget crime dramas favoured by B-movie producers could, increasingly, be found on television. 
     Chibnall and McFarlane provide a number of different approaches to the British B-movie. They categorise films according to genre and conclude, unsurprisingly, that the crime and thriller movies were the most prolific, followed by comedies. Suggesting that, whilst we may be a vicious, ghoulish people in the UK, we do enjoy a good laugh (usually, at someone else's painful expense). Within the crime genre, the authors point to the significance of the police procedural, as one of their chapter titles has it The Men From The Yard. They also analyse the point of view of a large body of B-movies with regard to key social issues in Britain in the 1950s such as law and order, attitudes to work, leisure, sex, class, race and ethnicity.
There is much focus given to, for example, Anglo-Amalgamated Productions, run by Nat Cohen and Stuart Levy, which operated from 1945 until roughly 1971 (after which it was absorbed into EMI Films). Second features, often produced at Merton Park Studios, formed the majority of AA's output and it was also the UK distributor of many films produced by American International Pictures who, in turn, distributed AA's films in the United States. It is fondly remembered for producing the first twelve Carry On films (all of which were made at Pinewood) and three highly-regarded B-movie crime series Scotland Yard (1953 to 1961) and From The North favourites The Edgar Wallace Mysteries (1960 to 1965) and The Scales Of Justice (1962 to 1967). Chibnall and McFarlane argue that part of the reason why the Edgar Wallace films, in particular, were so successful - not only in Britain but also abroad - was that they borrowed advertising, marketing and formatting techniques from television and, as such, they 'catered to an audience now used to the rhythms of television programming, by employing regular scheduling, careful product branding and quality control.' Anglo-Amalgamated, however, also produced Michael Powell's way-ahead-of-its-time Peeping Tom(1960) and such notable films as John Schlesinger's A Kind Of Loving (1962) and Billy Liar (1963), Ken Loach's Poor Cow (1967) and, one of the great British science fiction movies of the era, Alan Bridges'Invasion (1965). The company's distribution arrangement with AIP led to the last (and best) two films of Roger Corman's Edgar Allan Poe cycle, From The North favourites The Masque Of The Red Death and The Tomb Of Ligeia (both 1964), being joint productions made in the UK.
At the opposite end of the scale to Anglo-Amalgamated were The Danzigers - the company which was widely perceived within the industry to have the shoddiest sets, the worst scripting and the cheapest-looking productions. For example, Feet Of Clay (Frank Marshall, 1960) is a predictable, if 'oddly compelling' noirish thriller in which a lawyer (Vincent Ball) investigates the murder of a probation officer. The cuts between studio and location are very jarring and the acting is, at times, stilted beyond the norm. The company's modus operandi meant that the content and style of their movies could vary depending on the studio space available. The main priority for The Danzigers was never quality but, rather, how quickly and cheaply a production could be shot. According to Brian Clemens, who worked extensively for the company in the 1950s: 'They'd come to me and say, "we've got two weeks to shoot, so we want you to write something for these sets, a seventy minute second feature and it must have The Old Bailey, a submarine and a mummy's tomb in it." So I'd write it to order. Nobody believes that they made movies like this once, but it's absolutely true.' The Danzigers were probably the worst offenders when it came to giving opportunities to a range of upcoming talents. The twenty plus one-hour films they produced between 1960 and 1964 were made by a handful of directors - Godfrey Grayson, Max Varnel, Ernest Morris and Frank Marshall - while scripts were provided by just two writers, Mark Grantham and Clemens.
The British B Film is an invaluable resource for anyone even vaguely interested in the history of the British film industry. Take, for example, one relatively minor portion of the book's survey of the so-called 'B Factories'. Film historians usually begin their coverage of Hammer with a, somewhat perfunctory, skip through the studio's low-budget origins, before moving quickly onto what really interests them, Hammer's contribution to the Horror genre from the late 1950s onwards. This blogger is as guilty of this as anyone. Not Chibnall and McFarlane, though. They end their coverage of Hammer before the release of The Curse Of Frankenstein in 1957. They are more interested in how the studio emerged from its tentative position on the fringes of the British film industry to one of consolidation into a viable production studio. This was largely due to James Carreras's canny management which was able to exploit government financial assistance while simultaneously fostering close working relationships with a number of independent American producers such as Robert Lippert. This enabled the company to distribute its co-produced films, shot in Britain, in the American market at a time when most British film companies were struggling to gain access to that - vast and lucrative - market. Lippert, for his part, supplied relatively cheap Hollywood talent for Hammer's crime films, many of them with noir overtones, that were accessible to both American and British audiences. See, for example, Lady In The Fog (1952), Mantrap and Four-Sided Triangle (both 1953), The House Across The Lake (1954) and Murder By Proxy (1955). Or even later, post The Quatermass Xperiment, X - The Unknown and The Curse Of Frankenstein, an effective little chiller such as another particular favourite of this blogger, 1958's The Snorkel.
All of this was accompanied by flexible marketing arrangements which resulted in different publicity campaigns - and, usually, different titles - for the same film in different territories. Thus, in the US, Lady In The Fog is, the far more literal, Scotland Yard Inspector, to take one example. The potentially salacious story of a middle-aged bookshop owner (George Brent) who, in a sudden fit of passion, kisses a young female employee (Diana Dors), was titled The Last Page in Britain (1952, again the work of the prolific Terence Fisher). American audiences, by contrast, were lured to their local drive-ins to see the same movie but, under the title Man Bait. To ensure that the budgets were kept tight, Hammer employed highly professional genre directors such as Fisher, Montgomery Tully and Francis Searle. Although the results could be variable in terms of quality, the low production costs and wide distribution generally ensured a healthy profit for Hammer on the majority of their productions. And, of course, some of these films were very good indeed. These include the previously-mentioned The House Across The Lake (1954, known as Heat Wave in the US), directed by Ken Hughes and starring American imports Alex Nicola and Hilary Brooke in a variation on Billy Wilder's tale of infidelity, seduction and murder, Double Indemnity (1944). The similarly themed The Flanagan Boy (Reginald Borg, 1953, released as Bad Blonde in America), starred Barbara Payton as an unfaithful, naughty wife who seduces a young man with the intention that he should kill her husband. Dead. The film was produced amidst some lurid publicity surrounding Payton and her volatile relationship with the actor Tom Neal whilst she was already married to another well-known actor, Franchot Tone. After Tone was seriously hurt in a brutal fight with Neal, Payton was at the centre of a very public scandal which, no doubt, intensified interest in The Flanagan Boy both in the UK and the US.
The book concludes with an overview of what the authors consider to be the 'best of the Bs'. These include: An Act Of Murder (Michael Gordon, 1948), It's Not Cricket (Roy Rich and Alfred Roome, 1949), The Late Edwina Black (aka The Obsessed, Maurice Elvey, 1951), Private Information (Fergus McDonell, 1951), Marilyn (aka Roadhouse Girl, Wolf Rilla, 1953), The Flying Scot (aka The Mailbag Robbery, Compton Bennett, 1957), Small Hotel (David MacDonald, 1957, featuring Janet Munro and Billie Whitelaw), the comedy The Man Who Liked Funerals (David Eady, 1959), Devil's Bait (Peter Graham Scott, 1959: 'The excellent performances of [Jane] Hylton and [Geoffrey] Keen create a wholly convincing sense of two people whose relationship is under the strain of everyday irritations and who are imperceptibly drawn closer by the near disaster in which they are caught up') and Ernest Morris's 1960 adaptation of The Tell-Tale Heart.
The British B-movie story finished on something of a high in terms of quality; of the fifteen second features that Chibnall and McFarlane discuss in depth in their final chapter, almost half of them were released between 1959 and 1964. These include The Impersonator, John Kirsh's Unearthly Stranger (1963), Lance Comfort's Tomorrow At Ten (1964, with John Gregson pitting his wits against kidnapper Robert Shaw) and Jim O'Connolly's Smokescreen, (also 1964), starring Peter Vaughan as an insurance investigator involved in murder, mostly shot in Brighton ('an uncommonly neat little insurance racket-cum-murder thriller,' the authors also praise the way that its comic relief is 'built into the fabric of the film's main narrative action'). And, possibly best movie of the lot, Quentin Lawrence's suspense drama Cash On Demand (1962), featuring two outstanding performances from Andre Morell and Peter Cushing as a suave bank robber and a pressurised bank manager, respectively.
Cash On Demand is a fine movie, B or otherwise. Chibnall and McFarlane note that it also received enthusiastic contemporary reviews from both The Monthly Film Bulletin and Kinematograph Weekly. They particularly praise Cushing: 'It is Peter Cushing's performance of the austere man, to whom efficiency matters most (though the film is subtle enough to allow him a certain integrity as well) and who will be frightened into a warmer sense of humanity, that lifts the film well above the perfunctory levels of much B film-making.'
The British B Film is an outstanding book covering a far-too-often neglected area of cinema history. After all, where else are you going to see serious discussions on the merits (or otherwise) of, in no particular order: Solo For Sparrow (Gordon Flemyng, 1962), with a script by Roger Marshall adapting Edgar Wallace and featuring Glyn Houston, Anthony Newlands, Michael Coles, Allan Cuthbertson and, in minor roles, a young Michael Caine, a younger William Gaunt and a almost pre-teen Wanda Ventham. Or, The Switch (Peter Maxwell, 1963), a clever crime drama involving a gang that smuggles Rolex watches by hiding them in a petrol tank of a woman's car, starring Anthony Steel, Zena Marshall and Conrad Phillips. Or, Danger By My Side (Charles Saunders, 1962), with Anthony Oliver and Maureen Connell. Or, Night Of The Prowler (Francis Searle, 1962), starring Patrick Holt and Colette Wilde in a tale of motor racing and infidelity. Or, Death Goes To School (Stephen Clarkson, 1953), in which police (in the shape of Gordon Jackson and Sam Kydd) investigate the death of a nasty teacher at a girls school, where any number of people might have done the dirty deed. But Barbara Murray definitely didn't because her feet are too big. Or, Noose (Edmond T Gréville), a highly-regarded gangster movie starring Carole Landis which was a big box office hit in 1948.
There's also Behind The Headlines (Charles Saunders, 1956), in which a male and female journalist (Paul Carpenter and Hazel Court) join forces to hunt down a murderer. Wide Boy (Ken Hughes, 1952), an atmospheric noir about black marketeering with Sydney Tafler. Game For Three Losers (Gerry O'Hara, 1965), one of the last and definitely one of the best of the Edgar Wallace adaptations, as Mark Eden blackmails Michael Gough in a plot similar to Victim. The Boys (Sidney J Furie, 1962), a 'concerned' courtroom drama about the problems of wild youth, starring Dudley Sutton, Ronald Lacey, Tony Garnett and Jess Conrad. Cat Girl (Alfred Shaughnessy, 1957) featuring Barbara Shelley. Crossroads To Crime (1960), the film debut of Gerry Anderson shot in and around Slough and Maidenhead. And, The Man In The Back Seat (Vernon Sewell, 1961). Sewell, let it be noted, made some fine movies in his long career and some really bloody awful ones. This, starring Derren Nesbitt and Carol White, is among Sewell's best and almost makes one forgive the director for subsequently making The Blood Beast Terror. Almost.
Then there's The Hi-Jackers (Jim O'Connolly, 1962), starring Anthony Booth and Patrick Cargill. Crosstrap (1962), the first movie by Robert Hartford-Davis. Believed lost for many years, a negative was discovered in 2011, the movie having been included on the BFI's Seventy Five Most Wanted list. It has, since, been shown on Talking Pictures. Cover Girl Killer (Terry Bishop, 1959), featuring a memorably wired performance as the titular murderer by Harry H Corbett. Playback (Quentin Lawrence, 1962), another superb Edgar Wallace adaptation starring Barry Foster and written by Robert Banks Stewart. The Traitor (Michael McCarthy, 1959), a brilliantly-acted story of a French Resistance group who discover, post-war, that one of their members was collaborating with The Gestapo, with a cast that included Anton Diffring, Christopher Lee and Rupert Davies. Beat Girl (Edmond T Gréville, 1960), one of the cult movies of the era, featuring Gillian Hills, Adam Faith and The John Barry Seven. And Violent Playground (Basil Dearden, 1958), starring Stanley Baker, Peter Cushing and David McCallum and filmed in Liverpool.
And, that's before we get to the likes of Three Steps To The Gallows, The Scarlet Web, The Crooked Sky, Don't Talk To Strange Men, The Big Day, Stormy Crossing, Strangers Meeting, Behemoth, The Sea Monster, Blind Date, The Siege Of Sidney Street and many others. Just as, in rock and/or roll music, the B-side can, occasionally, be better than the A-side, so it is with the B-movie. 'The British B-movie has always had a stinking reputation,'wrote some wanker of no importance at the Independent when reviewing Chibnall and McFarlane's book upon its release. 'The image that probably springs to mind is of a low-budget second feature shot in crummy, second-rate studios, featuring actors you've never heard of and with scenery that looks as if it will fall down any minute.' 
For those interested in the subject, as well as Chibnall and McFarlane's books, this blogger also recommends Laura Mayne's essay Whatever Happened To The British B-movie? Micro-Budget Film-Making & The Death Of The One-Hour Supporting Feature In The Early 1960s which you can find here and Vic Pratt's B Pictures: Second Feature, But Not Necessarily Second-Best, which is online here. 'With film companies increasingly devoting their resources to stand-alone "quality" releases and television replacing the cinema as the cheap entertainment of choice, production of supporting features dwindled towards the end of the 1960s as the British film industry began a slow decline,' writes Pratt. 'The "double bill" and the supporting programme (increasingly using cheap travelogues, or recycling films of previous years) lingered on, but by the lean times of the 1980s, following the Conservative Government's removal of The Eady Levy ... the era of the supporting programme - and with it the British B picture - was already fading into memory.'

"Full Fathom Five Thy Father Lies"

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It's still oppressively hot at The Stately Telly Topping Manor Plague House, dear blog reader. And, the drums, as usual, still never cease. If you're in the UK, you may have noticed. The heat, that is, not the drums never ceasing. Unless you live next door to a drum shop, obviously. Apparently, it's going to get hotter next week. Much, muchhotter. Even as it stands though, it's often too damned hot to think. But it is not, it would appear, too damned hot to keep yer actual Keith Telly Topping from updating From The North's dear blog readers with a smallish taste of what's been goin' down in Groovetown. Or, what's been goin' down at The Stately Telly Topping Manor Plague House, anyway. Thed rest of Groovetown is another matter entirely. Y'feel me?
It's jolly rare, dear blog reader, that yer actual Keith Telly Topping gets the time (or, indeed, the inclination) to blog twice in a calendar week; it's even rarer these days, that he gets to do an actual essay or article on a specific topic rather than merely a collection of the usual random ... stuff (most of it drawn from his Facebook page if we're being strictly turthful here). On two counts, then, the last From The North bloggerisationisms update, on Tuesday, was highly unusual. And, possibly worth you all having a gander at if you haven't already done so. No pressure, it's there if you want to read it.
Given that this blogger's slow and reasonably methodical meander through the subject of the post-war British B-movie on the last bloggerisationisms update namechecked several dozen examples of the genre it was, consequently, quite annoying that Talking Pictures TV only went and showed two movies that this bloggger completely missed in B Crumble & The Stinkers: The British Post-War B-Movie - A Re-Assessment within seventy two hours of the blog going on-line. Firstly, they showed Charles Saunders' 1959 thriller Naked Fury - starring Reed De Rouen, Leigh Madsion and From The North favourite Kenneth Cope later that same evening Mocking, as they did so, this blogger's piss-poor efforts at comprehensiveness.
And then, early the following morning (so terrifyingly early that only suffers from severe insomnia, like this blogger, could've possibly caught it), there was an opportunity to see Francis Searle's The Marked One (1963) - featuring William Lucas, Zena Walker and Patrick Jordan. Both of which film should, this blogger freely admits, have copped at least a passing mentionette in the essay in question.
Ah well, dear blog reader, them's the breaks this blogger supposes. So, as a consequence of having already blogged mid-week - and, also, because pretty much sod-all else of any interest has occurred in the UK news this week - this latest bloggerisationisms update will revert to the usual 'random ... stuff' malarkey and will round-up a collection of this blogger's recent Facebook activities. And, some other'random ... stuff.' Mind you, that said dear blog reader, whilst 'sod all else of any interest has occurred in the UK news this week' there have been a few minor incidents of slight interest. You may have noticed. Some of them, admittedly, were wee-im-yer-own-pants funnier than others.
'I'm telling you, Boz, it's easy. All you have to do is incite your supporters to descend on parliament and kill everyone. If that doesn't work, just gaffer-tape yourself to the chair in The Office and then carry on acting as if you own the place.'
The most curious thing about this week's fast-moving political malarkey, however, was a question raised by the BBC News's 'we do the thinking so you don't have to' article Boris Johnson Resignation: Your Questions Answered. And, the question which most needs answering is, are Shelley Duck and Barry Tuck related? This blogger believes the people have a right to know.
It's an old aphorism, dear blog reader, that 'a week is a long time in politics', of course. This so-called 'Mystic Veg' lady now, presumably, knows the absolute truth of that assertion. A week is a long time politics. And, so is a day.
At least, it's probably fair to say she would have learned such a harsh life-lesson when this happened, less than twenty four hours after she'd, very publicly, made her Prime Minister prediction. The Asparagus has, it would seem, spoken falsely to you, Jemima. So, what now? Is it really back to consulting the entrails of chickens to find out who will win the Premier League this season?
This blogger did, however, very much enjoy the story of one of Bashing Boris's last ministerial appointments before his already thin authority evaporated completely, Andrea Jenkyns (no, me neither), the new education secretary who, less than twenty four hours later, was observed making a very rude gesture in public. One wonders how long it will be before some youngling scallywag, due to get detention for doing the same thing to their maths teacher, uses the 'Andrea Jenkyns (no, me neither) did it and she didn't get kept back after school to do lines.' It really isw true, dear blog reader - there's one law for them and one law for everybody else.
And so to stuff that doesn't involve the weather or the political turmoil which this country is now enduring, dear blog reader. This week, inevitably, saw the arrival of incoming preview discs in the mail at The Stately Telly Topping Manor Plague House. But, before we get onto the series finales of From The North favourites Strange New Worlds and The Man Who Fell To Earth, firstly, a word-or-several from our sponsor. Which have some relevance to both of these episodes. 'We passed upon the stair, we spoke of was and when/Although I wasn't there, he said I was his friend/Which came as a surprise, I spoke into his eyes/I thought you died alone. A long long time ago.' Talented lad, that, dear blog reader. One should always trust the poetry of a chap who looks good in a dress, this blogger believes.
Strange New Worlds: A Quality Of Mercy. 'You know the Klingons, there's nothing they wouldn't rather solve with a Bat'leth!' Well, dear blog reader, Romulans! And Him. And Her. And ... The Thing. That, in case you were wondering, is the spoiler-friendly version of this here review. This blogger had been wondering for ten weeks how they were going to get around inclusion of The Romulans in this series given that it takes place a deacde or more before the events of Balance Of Terror. How they did it was, actually, really quite clever - they, remade Baslance Of Terror with a different Enterprise crew and then [spoiler] it never happened [end spoiler]. Best line of the episode - if not the series thus far - 'I'm an engineer not a miracle worker, Mister Spock!' The dialogue was pretty much all terrific (and, really funny in places. 'Not interrupting?''No, I was just ... talking to myself'). The song which was used in the second-to-last scene (Melissa Carper's 'Makin' Memories') felt a bit pointless to this blogger; the use of songs to highlight an emotion which the production want the audience to feel is a trait of American TV over the last couple of decades (one which has started to filter into UK drama too). It can work brilliantly - I'm sure we can all think of our favourite examples from Buffy or The West Wing, for example - but, sometimes - and this was one of the latter examples - it feels like hitting the audience of the head with a mallet. To make sure they got the point - even if it was really obvious - just in case some of them might've managed to miss it. But, as for the episode's end ... well, that's series two sorted.
The Man Who Fell To Earth: The Man Who Sold The World. 'They're not a bundle of laughs but they're not bent on the decimation of all mankind!' They pulled it off, dear blog reader. This blogger was slightly worried for a while there that they weren't going to; that all of the investment Keith Telly Topping has made to this remarkable series over the last ten weeks might've been for nothing and it was all going to fall to pieces like so much wet cardboard in ones hands. But, no, that's didn't happen, thank goodness. 'It's not magic, it's evolution!' Lyrical, poetic, beautiful. And, again, funny too. 'Jesus Christ!''Exactly. Look what they did to Him!' So, how did we get here, to this place? To this time? Through the power of language. The power of beauty. And then, 'Five Years', the real cherry on the cake. There's no news yet on whether Showtime want a second series, although Alex Kurtzman, reportedly, has said he 'has ideas' and would be quite prepared for that eventuality. But, if this is the end for The Man Who Fell To Earth then that was, quite simply, the best TV drama possibly since Twin Peaks: The Return. The was that good. from The North's favourite TV show of the year? It's going to take something quite extraordinary to better it.
In other news, dear blog reader, it's nice to know that The Doctor now has a piece of paper with his (honorary) qualifications of it.
With the first episode of The Sandman just four weeks away, there is a very good piece by Elizabeth Evitts Dickinson of the Washington Times, Neil Gaiman's Books Have Enchanted Millions. Finally, Hollywood Is On Board which you should probably check out at your earliest opportunity have you not already done so, dear blog reader. Neil himself clearly enjoyed it, telling his dear Facebook fiends: 'A very spoooooooky photo, which makes me look like a 1960s vampire, or a particularly grumpy serial killer. But, actually, a really good article.' Neil is correct, of course. On both counts.
Thursday morning's UFO episode broadcast on the new Legend Channel (one hundred and forty eight on your tellybox's Sky Planner, dear blog readers) at 8am was The Sound Of Silence. Not the worst episode of the series by a long way (a guest cast of Susan Jameson, Michael Jayston, Richard Vernon ... what's not to love?) But it is, by a distance, the strangest. And, this blogger means, by a considerable distance. Check out a one-line synopsis of UFO episodes on virtually any online resource (like Wiki just to take the most obvious example) and, for The Sound Of Silence, this will say: 'a show jumper is abducted by the aliens.' And that's it - that is, indeed, pretty much a complete summation up the entire episode in just eight words. Obviously, those aliens were having problems with getting their equestrian sports squad into the Olympics and needed to field a ringer. On the other hand, the scenes featuring the flick-knife wielding 'hippie' are hilarious. And, what's more, they would've been hilarious in 1970. 'Love and peace, man. And, if I can stab you in the bladder that'd, like, be really together and, like, far out."
Remember, dear blog reader. Does not the good book say 'Thou shalt not suffer a hippie to live'? Probably not come to think about it, though it undeniably should. Primal Scream had the right idea.
In addition, on Friday we had a broadcast of Reflections In The Water to consider. Supposedly it's one of the more popular UFO episodes with the Fanderson cognoscenti, but this blogger personally finds it a bit slow-moving and, well, dull. Plus it's, essentially a remake of Invasion Of The Bodysnatchers without the wit or the imagination of the original. Bonus points: Barry Gray having lots of fun with his Moog making all the 'blippy-bloopy-wooooo' noises inside The Dome; an almost pre-pubescent James Cosmo; lots of shots of Anouska Hempel looking all concerned for the safety of Ed Straker and Paul Foster and biting her lip. Minus point: Nowhere near enough Wanda Ventham.
Police in Nigeria have, reportedly, rescued seventy seven people, including children, from a church where they have been confined in the South-Western state of Ondo. Some of them are believed to have been there for months. A police spokesperson said many had been told to expect The Second Coming in April and had abandoned school to witness the event. The raid came after a mother complained that her children were missing and she thought they were in the church. Police say they are investigating a case of suspected mass abduction after the raid on the Whole Bible Believers Church in the Valentino area of Ondo. The pastor of the Pentecostal church, David Anifowoshe and his deputy have been arrested, while the victims have been taken into the care of the authorities.
In all, police say they rescued twenty six children, eight teenagers and forty three adults. The Second Coming is a Christian belief in the return of Jesus Christ after his Biblical ascension to Heaven. The Rapture is the - frankly a bit bonkers - idea that Christian believers will be taken to Heaven at The Second Coming. Taken directly to Heaven without having to pass 'Go'or pay two hundred pounds. You knew that, right?
Some restaurants in the newly opened 'Tasty & That's It' fast food chain, which replaced McDonald's in Russia, will temporarily stop serving fries, according to Russian media. Oh, the inherent tragedy. A shortage of the correct variety of potatoes means diners will have to find a different side dish to accompany their burgers and nuggets. The company claims it expects to have fries back on the menu 'by autumn.' One or two people even believed them. McDonald's pulled out of Russia in protest at the invasion of Ukraine. The American fast food giant sold its restaurants to a Russian businessman and in June several of its outlets reopened under the name 'Vkusno i Tochka'. But a month after opening, one of the key items on the menu is in short supply. 'Rustic potatoes' - a thicker-cut version of the traditional French fry - may also be unavailable.
And now, dear blog reader, a new and semi-regular From The North featurette which has proved somewhat popular amongst this blogger's lovely Facebook fiends, Memorably Daft Lines From British Horror Movies Of The 1970s. Number One (in what was, originally, a series of several but is, now, a series of loads): Beryl Reid: 'How are you?' Nicky Henson: 'I'm dead, mother ... Apart from that, I couldn't be better!'Psychomania.
This blogger's old fiend, Peter, saw the above photo and commented, in relation to Nicky Henson: 'Surely, that's David Warner.' To which this blogger replied: 'No, Peter, this is David Warner.' (The image, of course, comes from one of this blogger's favourite movies, Peter Hall's 1970 heist caper film Perfect Friday). And, someone else said' and don't call him Shirley.' Which was funny.
There was also much discussion on this blogger's Facebook page concerning how pure drop-dead sexy Nicky looks in his white poloneck from several of this blogger's beast ladygirl fiends. Plus, of course, as this blogger's fiend Nick Cooper commented, no discussion of Psychomania is ever complete without considering this scene. 'Shall I shut the door?''Yes please, love!'
Number Two (in a series of loads): William Ellis: 'If we do get to summon up The Big Daddy with the horns and the tail, he gets to bring his own liquor, his own bird and his own pot.'Dracula AD 1972. Admittedly, that particular 'memorably daft line' could've been any one of several dozen memorably daft lines that feature in AD 72. 'Come in for a bite,' just to take one example.
As someone once wrote about this film, in a - half-way decent - book (which is still available from Telos Publishing) 'One of the most hilariously dated movies of any era - by having a specific date as part of the film's title, it is forever trapped within a time capsule. Yet, perhaps because of this, Dracula AD 1972 has aged so utterly terribly that it has transcended its humble origins to become little short of a comedy masterpiece. Exploitation cinema is always at its finest when polemic and dogma meet head-on and, instead of producing the expected gestalt of social-comment, ends up with a mélange of clashing and fractious statements. Dracula AD 1972's like that. It so desperately wants to be a serious, po-faced observation on important youth culture issues. Instead, by the sheer banality of its construction, the film comes over as Carry On Biting, full of unexpected laughs at, literally, every turn ... Watch this one with a few friends, a bottle of wine and a Chinese takeaway and, simply, thank God that you weren't born in the 1870s and, thus, never got a chance to see incompetent genius like this.' Smart lad, that. Oh hang on, dear blog reader, it was me. Okay, forget all of the above ...
The blogger, nevertheless, still believes that Dracula AD 1972 is great, dear blog reader - and not just for all the 'wrong' reasons either. Dick Bush's cinematography is simply gorgeous, Mike Vickers' music is excellent and everyone in the cast is giving it one hundred and ten per cent and not sending it up as it would've been so easy to do. Caroline Munro in a, frequent, state of some undress, again, what's not to love? Don Houghton's script is damned silly (and a decade at least out of time in terms of its view of popular youth culture) but the plot does stand up to close scrutiny. Plus, you know, if life was a party, this blogger would rather like his own to feature top rock outfit Stoneground playing 'Alligator Man' in the front room of The Stately Telly Topping Manor Plague House. That'd work.
This blogger's fine fiend, Dan, said that he had always wondered if Christopher Neame's costume was 'the same outfit the bloke wears in House Of Whipcord' (Robert Tayman playing the delightfully-named Mark E Desade).
He was a right shifty fekker, that one this blogger noted - stitching-up poor Penny Irving like a Toffer, Tommy Nutters in such a manner. What a West Ham, eh? Pure Pete Tong on so many levels. At least with Johnny Alucard what you saw was what you got. And, all the ladies dug him the mostest, baby and thought he was well-groovy. Dig the music, kids!'
Number Three (in a series of loads): Mister Pertwee: 'My name is Paul Henderson.' Geoffrey Bayldon: 'Whom?' Mister Pertwee: 'The film actor.' Geoffrey Bayldon: 'I'm afraid, sir, that I do not patronise the Kinema!'The House That Dripped Blood. What a carry-on! This blogger's fiend Young Malcolm felt including this particular sequence in Memorably Daft Lines ... was unfair since it took place in a deliberately comedic segment of the 1970 Amicus portmanteau movie. This blogger replied that he didn't say these were bad lines (though, some of them undeniably are). Merely 'daft'.
Number Four (in a series of loads): Anna Palk: 'Brom, do you think you could escort me to the bedroom? To protect me from things that go bang in the night?!'Tower Of Evil. No wonder her husband, poor Mister Derek, looks so disgusted.
This blogger's favourite sarky review of any horror movie (one which he mentioned in the 'Critique' section of A Vault Of Horror) concerns Tower Of Evil. It comes from a contributor to the Rotten Tomatoes website: 'The underground set is unconvincing, yet not as unconvincing as the alleged experts sent to look for it. Dressed like total professionals - skin-tight flares, miniskirts, go-go pants - and carrying the tools of their profession - marijuana, red wine - these people are as close to being archaeologists as they are to likeable human beings. I can't recommend this film to anyone other than connoisseurs of appalling Seventies fashion.' Boom and, indeed, boom.
Number Five (in a series of loads): James Chase: 'Take your pants off.' Ann Michelle: 'I thought this was for a cider ad?' James Chase: 'It'll ... correct a bad angle.'Virgin Witch. Classy!
Once again, this blogger's firm fiend Young Malcolm was vastly unimpressed with the inclusion of Virgin Witch causing this blogger to quote his very self yet again. 'A trashy sleaze epic, Virgin Witch may well be the Casablanca of the porn/horror crossover that briefly flourished in Britain during this era. Such a juxtaposition of styles was, as Kim Newman memorably noted, "Marginal cinema, where double-bill fillers can be sold as either sex or violence." We get to see nude moonlit pagan ceremonies, some simulated sex and an early (fumbling) attempt at the emancipation-of-women-through-witchcraft theme subsequently explored by numerous movies and TV series in the 1990s. Sex is treated as a primal force in Virgin Witch and, for the most part, a lack of cynicism and subliminal distaste in the performances makes the film at least watchable. Having said that, some of the acting on display is embarrassingly bad and the script doesn't have any sort of proper climax. Nevertheless, despite a reputation lower than rattlesnake piss to many horror fans for its obvious popularity amongst the dirty mac brigade, Virgin Witch remains a significant product of its "let it all hang out" era.'
Number Six (in a series of loads); Lewis Fiander: 'How is your brother?' Martine Beswick: 'He hasn't been himself lately.'Doctor Jekyll & Sister Hyde. Try as he might, this blogger simply couldn't find a photo of the relevant scene in the movie featuring Lew and Martine. So, Gerald Sim'll just have to do instead.
Although, a picture of Lewis is never an unwelcome visitor to this blog, let it be noted.
Number Seven (in a series of loads): Alfred Marks: 'Either this is coincidence, some kinky freak burglary turned tragic. Or, we've got more than one supernormal maniac on our hands!'Scream & Scream Again.
In 'The Busted Pot'discothèque, meanwhile, Amen Corner perform 'Scream & Scream Again' and 'When We Make Love'. For the UK Columbia/RCA video release of the movie in 1989, presumably for copyright reasons, these songs were replaced by some rather horrible, anonymous musak (someone playing a Hammond organ with their feet by the sound of it). Which left poor Andy Fairweather-Lowe mouthing away on the visuals and no sound emerging. The 2002 MGM DVD, thankfully, restores the correct soundtrack.
Incidentally, working as 'musical director' on this, his only film, was Shel Talmy, the legendary producer of (at various times) The Who, The Kinks, David Bowie, The Small Faces, Manfred Mann, The Easybeats, The Creation and, specific to Scream & Scream Again, Amen Corner.
Number Eight (in a series of loads): Milton Reid: 'Hel-'Doctor Phibes Rises Again.
A movie, incidentally, which features the single greatest opening line of any film, ever. Bar none. 'Rumours have been circulating about Doctor Phibes. All of them, unfortunately, [are] true!'
Mind you, as this blogger's fiend Ken noted: 'Good old Milton! Did he ever get any decent amount of dialogue in any of his roles?' This blogger replied that, he certainly didn't in Captain Clegg.
Number Nine (in a series of loads): Edward Woodward: 'Voyeurs, transvestites, narcissists, beastialists ... It's a funny world we live in.' Alex Davion: 'Are you trying to tell me that a girl sucking blood from a man's neck can induce an orgasm?'Incense For The Damned.
Which, as this blogger told his Facebook fiend Nigel, should have been one of the best horror movies Britain's ever produced. It was based on one of the great vampire novels of the Twentieth Century (Simon Raven's Doctors Wear Scarlet). It had that extraordinary cast (Peter Cushing, Patrick Macnee, Edward Woodward, Alex Davion, Johnny Sekka, Patrick Mower, et al) and it was directed by Bob Hartford-Davies who could be a bit of a hack but who also made some great films. But it all went tits-up because they ran out of money halfway through shooting and the producers decided to try and cobble together something out of what they had. And then filmed a few additional scenes (with a different director since Hartford-Davies wanted nothing to do with their plans), including that notorious eight minute orgy sequence and the ending which, kind of, contradicted everything that the previous ninety minutes had set-up. Yet, for all that, it still has a few great moments.
Number Ten: Vincent Price: 'How much are we paying the weepers?' Andrew McCulloch: 'Five Groats a head, my lord.' Vincent Price: 'See that they weep till dawn!'Cry Of The Banshee.
Now, dear blog reader, a conversation overheard backstage at The Weeley Fesitval in 1971; 'Hey Woody?''Yeah, Ron?''Why can't Rod ever wear anything ordinary?'
Meanwhile, on stage, 'holy eighteen minute guitar solo.'
Hell, it was the Seventies, dear blog reader.
We come, at this point, with a dreadful inevitability to the inexcusably-regular part of From The North dedicated to this blogger's on-going medical-related doings. For those dear blog readers who haven't been following this on-going saga which seems to have been on-going longer than the average Grateful Dead gig, it goes something like this: This blogger spent weeks feeling awful; had five days in hospital; was discharged; received B12 injections; then more injections; somewhat recovered his appetite; got a diagnosis; had a consultant's meeting; continued to suffer fatigue and insomnia; endured a second endoscopy; had anotherconsultation; got toothache; had an extraction; which took ages to heal; had yet another consultation; spent a whole week where nothing remotely health-related occurred; was given further - really painful - injections; had an echocardiogram; had more blood extraction and had yet another hospital visit to see the consultant. This week has seen the usual - thoroughly whinge-worthy - insomnia (and various other symptoms) causing lethargy, listlessness and continuing exhaustion. So, no change there, then. That said, the hot weather hasn't exactly helped with sleeping or with feeling energetic.
That said, dear blog reader, some things in this blogger's life are really deserved.
England nonchalantly and with some style completed a record run chase of three hundred and seventy eight to beat India in rapid time on the final morning of the fifth test at Edgbaston. Centuries from Joe Root and Jonny Bairstow took England to their highest successful pursuit in test cricket and the ninth-largest in the history of the game. Needing another one hundred and nineteen from their overnight two hundred and fifty nine for three on Tuesday morning, Root and Bairstow coasted with incredible ease, taking England to a memorable seven-wicket win, one of their all-time greatest victories before lunch. Bairstow's one hundred and fourteen not out was his second century of the match, while Root ended unbeaten on one hundred and forty two in an unbroken partnership of two hundred and sixty nine. They carried England to a new height in what is turning into a spectacular test summer under new captain Ben Stokes and coach Brendon McCullum. The win ensured a series that was postponed from last summer was drawn two-two but, more importantly, it was the greatest validation to date of England's ultra-positive approach to test cricket. Their next series is with South Africa in August, while an entirely different squad under new white-ball captain Jos Buttler played the first of three T20s against India on Thursday. And lost, heavily. Just five weeks ago, England's test cricket was in the doldrums, with McCullum and Stokes given the task of reviving a team that had won only once in seventeen attempts. While the manner of the three-nil series win over New Zealand was thrilling, it felt like a different prospect to play so-called 'Bazball' against the powerful Indians. The home side were under huge pressure at different times during this match. They were eighty three for five in response to India's first-innings score of four hundred and sixteen, then on Monday India were three hundred and twenty runs ahead with five second-innings wickets still in hand. And yet, England's insistence that they could chase any target was proved correct, thanks largely to the cavalier progress they made on a scintillating fourth afternoon. Strangely, given the magnitude of the result, the fifth morning was almost anticlimactic as Root and Bairstow removed what little jeopardy remained in the chase. That takes nothing away from what England have accomplished - to overhaul three hundred and seventy eight for the loss of only three wickets is a truly remarkable feat. Superlatives for England's pair of Yorkshire batsmen have long been exhausted. This was Bairstow's fourth hundred in five innings and sixth this year, Root has made eleven since the beginning of 2021. Their rebuild from one hundred and nine for three Monday ran India ragged. And, added bonus, they wiped the sneering grin from arch-sledger Virat Kolhi's face. Which was funny. When Root resumed on seventy six and Bairstow on seventy two on Tuesday morning, India still had fielders scattered, allowing runs to flow. Root played dreamy drives and clips off the pads. After he had run Mohammed Siraj to third man for his twenty eighth test century, he unfurled the trick shots. Shardul Thakur was belted back over his head for four, then reverse-scooped for six. Bairstow was more circumspect, but still pummelled anything short. He only showed nerves, briefly, on ninety nine, going to three figures with a pinched single off Ravindra Jadeja and celebrating with an emotional embrace from Root. By the end, their partnership was the fourth-highest by any pair in the fourth innings of a test, while the run chase surpassed the previous England record of three hundred and fifty nine, set when Stokes shocked - and stunned - Australia at Headingley in 2019. Victory, a formality for most of the morning, was completed almost half-an-hour before lunch. This was a crushing defeat for India. Last summer they were by far the superior team in the first four tests of the series (even, for the most part, in the one they lost), but they called off the fifth test, schedled for Manchester, after a Covid outbreak in their backroom staff and, as a consequence, missed out on a first series win in England since 2007. Not only that, but this is the largest target they have failed to defend in test cricket history. And, again, it's worth at this point recalling the sour gurn on Mister Kolhi's mush at what a right shite state of affairs all of this malarkey had turned into and having a right good chuckle. India made a selection error in omitting spinner Ravichandran Ashwin, carelessly threw away a dominant position when they were batting in their second innings, then were completely passive as England overwhelmed them in the run chase. They were subsequently fined forty per cent of their match fee and penalised two ICC World Test Championship points for a slow over-rate. Might the tourists have avoided the mistakes had Jasprit Bumrah not had to stand in for captain Rohit Sharma, who was ruled out with Covid? Realistically, the way England played, nothing would have stopped them.
As previously noted on this blog, it seems naught but five minutes since the last football season ended and yet, already the 2022-23 pre-season is underway. In particular this blogger's beloved (and now, thankfully, sold) Magpies made a winning start on Saturday, beating National League neighbours Gatesheed behind closed doors in blazing sunshine at Darsley Park. Kick-off was before noon, the hosts debuting their new home kit and taking a lead on the half-hour when Matt Ritchie beat on-loan Magpie Dan Langley in the 'heed goal. One-nil to the Black and Whites became two-nil to the Blacxk and Whites two minutes after the restart when Sean Longstaff was tripped in the area and Joelinton supplied a routine finish from the penalty spot. The visitors halved the deficit on the hour through Paul Blackett before a second penalty award to Newcastle which saw Longstaff fire over. United's two-goal advantage was restored ten minutes from time when Miguel Almirón dispossessed a defender out on the right and galloped into the box before shooting beyond the goalkeeper. Seven minutes later the Paraguayan grabbed his second from similar range after Allan Saint-Maximin unselfishly played him in. And there was time for a fifth Newcastle goal in the closing seconds; Saint-Maximin marauding forward and teeing up Joelinton to square the ball from the left side of the box for Longstaff to finish. Of twenty one players featuring for United, Kell Watts completed ninety minutes while the remaining twenty had forty five minute workouts. There was no debut for recent recruits Nick Pope or Sven Botman, while other omissions included Jamal Lewis, Fabian Schär, Bruno Guimarães and Chris Wood. G'yiddip Th' Toon. Now, keep that one hundred per cent record up for the next nine months and this blogger will be a jolly happy chap. The goals can be seen here.
There are some movie stars for whom the frisson of fame and the exultation of acting are not enough. James Caan, who has died this week aged eighty two, sought satisfaction in extreme sports, drugs and a highly colourful personal life. However, the many superb portrayals he gave in scores of films and TV series will outlive the gossip and odd sensational headline. His defining role came as Sonny Corleone in Francis Ford Coppola's The Godfather (1972). Caan, who was nominated for an Oscar, was perfect as the hedonistic and volatile heir apparent to the Corleone family, whose bloody, violent ways end in his own death. The film, which points to the links between the mafia and American capitalism, portrays men such as Don Corleone (Marlon Brando) as businessmen. But Sonny, a remorselessly vicious hoodlum driven by family loyalty, represented the true nature of the Corleone family. Soon after The Godfather, Caan was wallowing in violence again as the embittered hero of Rollerball (1975). Although presented as the moral centre of the film, Caan's character, Jonathan E, is as sadistic as everyone else around him. More violence came his way as the brutal CIA man in Sam Peckinpah's The Killer Elite. In contrast, he portrayed Billy Rose, the gambling, philandering husband of Barbra Streisand's Fanny Brice in Funny Lady, all in the same year. Caan had a relatively small role in Richard Attenborough's World War II epic A Bridge Too Far (1977), but made his mark as Staff Sergeant Eddie Dohun who refuses to let a comrade die on his watch, even if it means pulling a gun on an unhelpful medic.
Caan was well teamed with Geneviève Bujold in Claude Lelouch's romance set in the US, Another Man, Another Chance (1977) and with Jane Fonda in the western Comes A Horseman (1978). The latter title chimed with Caan, who was once dubbed the Jewish cowboy because of his earlier participation in rodeos and his ownership of a stable of horses. The film critic Pauline Kael wrote of Caan at that stage in his career that 'he's not all of a piece as a performer: he's never quite himself - you feel he's concealing himself rather than revealing a character.' He had then recently emerged from a messy divorce from his second wife, which may have affected his subsequent performances. In 1981, Caan's sister Barbara, to whom he was very close and who ran his production company, died of leukaemia, aged thirty eight. 'She was my best friend, my manager,' he said. 'She was the only person I was afraid of.' Then he had a motorcycle accident and his house was nearly destroyed by a landslide. There were several flops, undeservedly in the case of Michael Mann's Thief (1981), released as Violent Streets in the UK and deservedly with the whimsical Kiss Me Goodbye (1982) - Caan's attempts at comedy were slow to be appreciated. His first and last directorial effort, Hide In Plain Sight (1980), in which he starred as a man in search of his ex-wife and children, was generally given a chilly critical reception. Caan explained that 'some jerk at MGM altered the movie.'
On top of this, he walked off the set of The Holcroft Covenant (1985) and was replaced by Michael Caine. A few years earlier, when he was still bankable, Caan had reportedly turned down three Oscar winners, M*A*S*H, Kramer Versus Kramer ('it was such Middle-Class, bourgeois baloney') and One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest. During his fallow period between 1982 and 1987, he spent his days coaching his son Scott's football and basketball teams and his nights at the Playboy Mansion ('There were tons of girls over there and, call me sick, call me crazy, but I liked 'em!') and taking, in his own words, 'shitloads of cocaine.' Although he received professional help and was cured of the addiction, by this time he was unemployable in Hollywood. 'I hardly ever go out,' he told an interviewer in 1986. 'I spend most of my time upstairs in my bedroom, wearing out one spot on the bed where I sit when I'm making phone calls.' When he had not appeared in a film for four years, people in Los Angeles were beginning to ask, 'What ever happened to ...?' Then his friend Coppola gave him the lead in Gardens Of Stone (1987). Finding a new gravitas, Caan was utterly convincing as a stiff-necked but compassionate army sergeant who feels that 'there is nothing to win and no way of winning it' in Viet'nam. Caan's comeback became entrenched with a difficult role in Rob Reiner's Misery (1990) - he spends most of the movie bedridden and doped as a seriously injured writer kept captive by his 'number one fan' (Kathy Bates, who won the best actress Oscar).
But Caan hit the headlines again in the 1990s for the wrong reasons. When his brother Ronnie was held at gunpoint by gangsters, Caan enlisted the help of his mafia pal Anthony The Animal Fiato. Caan arranged to meet and pay the kidnappers, then arrived with Fiato and his crew with guns and baseball bats. On another occasion, the FBI intercepted a phone conversation between Fiato and Caan concerning the actor Joe Pesci. Caan asked his friend to 'take care' of Pesci after learning about an unpaid eight thousand dollar bill from Pesci's stay at a friend's Miami hotel. When Ronnie Lorenzo, an LA mobster, was extremely arrested for drug trafficking, kidnap and extortion, Caan offered his home as collateral toward the two million bucks bail and appeared as a character witness for his 'best friend'. Caan was also the first significant film star to admit to being friends with the 'Hollywood madam' Heidi Fleiss, although he claimed that the relationship was platonic. He was sued by a woman who claimed he had tried to strangle her. (The matter was settled out of court.) Then came the morning when he woke up in a friend's flat to find ten Los Angeles policemen standing over him with guns drawn. Outside, they had discovered a body of an aspiring actor, Mark Schwartz, on the pavement eight storeys below. Caan was questioned for nearly ten hours before they released him, having concluded that Schwartz had fallen while trying to break into the flat. 'It was a nightmare,' Caan said. 'I woke up and this whole thing had happened while I was asleep. But it sure looked really bad. I looked guilty.' Caan survived all this to rebuild his career. Seldom unemployed, he traded happily on his 1970s persona, particularly playing older and wiser versions of Sonny Corleone, either as mafia bosses, louche gamblers or businessmen with mafia connections in films such as Honeymoon In Vegas (1992), Mickey Blue Eyes (1999), with Hugh Grant's British art auctioneer getting mixed up with the mob, City Of Ghosts (2002) and Dogville (2003).
Although Caan had all the right Italian gestures as Sonny, he was the son of Jewish parents, Sophie and Arthur Caan, who were refugees from Nazi Germany. He was born in The Bronx and raised in Queens, where his father was a kosher butcher. After attending various schools, he entered two universities, Michigan State University, at which he was a football hero and Hofstra, Long Island, but failed to graduate from either. While studying at Hofstra, he became interested in acting and was soon taken on by the Neighborhood Playhouse School Of The Theatre in New York, where he studied under Sanford Meisner, whose technique was allied to the method. One of Caan's fellow students was Robert Duvall, with whom he was to co-star in The Godfather, as well as in Robert Altman's moon-landing drama, Countdown (1967), Coppola's The Rain People (1969) and The Killer Elite. He had originally auditioned for The Godfather role of Michael Corleone and was reportedly favoured for the role by studio executives. But after Coppola's insistence, Al Pacino was chosen. Caan played the older brother Sonny and was fitted with more than one hundred and forty explosive blood pellets to simulate gunshot wounds for the character's death scene. In the early 1960s, Caan made his off-Broadway debut in Schnitzler's La Ronde and started to appear on television, mostly as juvenile delinquents, in series including Naked City, Route 66, The Untouchables and Doctor Kildare. After an uncredited bit-part as a sailor with a radio in Billy Wilder's Irma La Douce (1963), he rose to stardom remarkably quickly. His first role was as a young thug terrorising Olivia de Havilland in Lady In A Cage (1964). Tough insouciance was his style, well suited to handsome but rather emotionless features. This cool and calculating facet of Caan's was exploited by Howard Hawks in two movies, as a daredevil racing driver in Red Line 7000 (1965) and as the laid-back Mississippi, John Wayne's gunslinging sidekick in El Dorado (1967).
In The Rain People, the first of the three films Caan made with Coppola, a certain vulnerability and warmth surfaced as he played a soft-hearted drifter. He also showed a tender side as a naive sailor who falls for a prostitute in Cinderella Liberty (1973) and in Karel Reisz's The Gambler (1974), in which Caan, intense and sympathetic, gives one of his finest performances as a university professor addicted to gambling. In later years, Caan was content to have the security of a popular TV series, Las Vegas (2003 to 2007), appearing as a former CIA agent now the head of security at the fictional Montecito resort and casino. He was also willing to take supporting roles in movies such as Get Smart (2008) and Mercy (2009), which was written by and starred his son Scott, one of the stars of Hawaii Five-0 in which Caan also guested. He also featured in Middle Men (2009), The Outsider (2014) and The Good Neighbor [sic] (2016). In Carol Morley's Out Of Blue (2018), an adaptation of Martin Amis's novel Night Train, he was the intimidating father of a murdered astrophysicist daughter and his movie work continued up to the time of his death. Caan was divorced four times. He is survived by a daughter, Tara, from his first marriage, to Dee Jay Mathis; a son, the actor Scott, from his second, to Sheila Ryan; a son, Alexander, from his third marriage, to Ingrid Hajek and two sons, James and Jacob, from his fourth, to Linda Stokes.
Parts of a Scum Mail on Sunday story about the Duke of Sussex's dispute over his security were 'potentially defamatory', a judge has said in an initial ruling. Prince 'Arold is suing Associated Newspapers Limited for shitloads of bread for libel over a February article about his alleged 'legal battle' with the Home Office. His barrister said that the story falsely suggested he had 'lied' and 'cynically' tried to manipulate public opinion. But ANL claimed it contained 'no hint of impropriety' and was not defamatory. One or two people even believed them. Though, significantly, not the judge. The High Court ruling is the first stage of the libel battle, which aims to establish what the article meant and what claims the newspaper group will have to defend. The court will decide after further hearings whether the duke's libel case succeeds or fails and why. The story, published in the Scum Mail on Sunday and online, referred to the Duke of Sussex's separate legal case against the Home Office over security arrangements when he and his family are in the UK. Mister Justice Nicklin ruled that the article meant Prince Hazza was responsible for 'spinning the facts' and 'misleading the public' into thinking he had been offering to pay for police protection and was challenging a refusal by the government to allow him to do so. The article also maintained that court documents revealed the duke had only offered to fund the security arrangements after the legal battle began and he had unjustifiably tried to prevent documents and witness statements in the case becoming public, the judge said. But he rejected claims by Prince Harry's legal team that the article meant the prince had 'lied'. Lawyers for the newspaper publisher had argued the focus of the article was on statements put out by the duke's 'PR machine' rather than by Prince Hal his very self. But the judge was having none of it, saying that without 'further clarification', readers would believe statements made on the prince's behalf were 'approved' by him. In a written statement to last month's preliminary hearing, Prince Harry said it had caused him 'substantial hurt, embarrassment and distress, which is continuing.' The latest libel ruling comes a day after a court heard Prince Harry faced 'significant tensions' with a top aide to the Queen involved in downgrading his security. And, this horseshit constitutes 'news', apparently.
There are but two outstanding candidates for this week's From The North Headline Of The Week award, dear blog reader. Firstly, the Brighton Argus's rather alarming Fears For Drunk Seagulls Staggering Around As Flying Ant Nightmare Tightens Its Grip.
There is, of course, only but one way to deal with any sort of 'Flying Ant Nightmare', dear blog reader. To welcome our new insect Overlords.
The other nominees for the From The North Headline Of The Week award goes to our old fiends at the Daily Lies, for their not in the least bit sensationalist Town In Lockdown After Killer Snails The Size Of Rats Frighten Residents.
To which, of course, we say ...
And finally, dear blog reader, this ...
Because you just can't beat a good bit of boneless flap, can you?

"They Will Pluck Away His Natural Cause And Call Them Meteors, Prodigies & Signs"

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Russell Davies (OBE) did not go gentle into that good night when letting the government know exactlywhat he thought about them during an acceptance speech at this year's South Bank Sky Arts Awards. It was a sight to see, dear blog reader. The screenwriter and producer collected the prize for Best TV Drama for his acclaimed Channel 4 AIDS drama It's A Sin. After telling the audience of the 'immense privilege' it was to work on the series, the once and future Doctor Who showrunner then took the opportunity to call out the Tories plans to sell off Channel 4. Likening the government to a rabid 'wounded dog' which 'bites everyone', he warned the audience that 'the things the Tories say they'll do, they do. They're very good at that. We're full of doubt, they're not, they will do this. This is wrong.' So, that's them told.
Bit of politics there, Big Rusty. Bet that'll have gone down fantastically well with certain sections of Beeb management. Meanwhile, according to the ever-reliable (well, sometimes-reliable) Digital Spy website, yer actual Ncuti Gatwa hasn't started filming on Doctor Who yet, as he's has the Barbie movie and Sex Education series four to complete first, but he has, allegedly, 'teased' that his Doctor Who costume is going to be 'something worth looking forward to.' As opposed to, what? Something not worth looking forward too? (Admittedly, Colin Baker's would fall into that particular category.) This is because, the occasionally-reliable website claims, '[Ncuti's] got a hand in what it will look like.''I will [get a say in the outfit],' Ncuti told the not even seldom-reliable Radio Times. 'It will be exciting.' As 'teases' go, dear blog reader, on a scale of one to ten with ten being 'I'm now going to pretty-much tell you something that I shouldn't but, what the Hell ...' and one being 'schtum, alright? It's more than my job's worth' that's, like a two. Two-and-a-half, possibly. This, dear blog reader, is what happens when fandom is desperate for Doctor Who news and there isn't any. Next ...
A case in point. The official Doctor WhoTwitter account reacted to NASA's James Webb telescope images after finding the visuals 'very similar' to the title sequence of the show during the - miserable - period when Colin Baker was The Doctor. The popular long-running family SF drama series has, of course explored time and space since 1963 (you knew that, right?) often incorporating many real-world scientific inspirations as part of its oeuvre. The first images from the James Webb Space Telescope were released to the media in July 2022, offering an in-depth look into space. The final frontier. No, sorry, wrong series. Anyway, the Doctor WhoTwitter account 'quote-tweeted' (for which read, 'copied a, probably copyrighted, picture') a recent post by a NASA account that featured infrared images capturing the early universes. The series' social media account commented that NASA's images looked 'familiar,' before sharing a video clip featuring the opening titles from Colin Baker's time on the series. And, this bollocks constitutes 'news' apparently. See what this blogger means about when you've got little-or-nothing of substance to report related to forthcoming episodes, any old piece of nonsense will do? And, From The North - sad toi report - is every bit as guilty of this as anyone else, this blogger is in no position to cast aspersions. But, he likes doing that so, you know ...
Fans of From The North favourite Neil Gaiman's The Sandman snapped up all of the available tickets to an exclusive world premier of the forthcoming Netflix adaptation in just a few minutes. The BFI announced last week that it would host a 'special event,' which would see the writer of the multi-award-winning comic take part in the world premier on Wednesday 3 August. The event would also see lead actor Tom Sturridge join Neil on the panel following the screening of the much-anticipated fantasy series for a question and answer session. Tickets to went on sale at 4pm on Thursday but were completely sold out within minutes. Minutes, dear blog reader. The - not-even-remotely-reliably - Plymouth Herald, in reporting this malarkey, appeared to be shocked - and stunned - that anything could occur in mere minutes.
Quite right too. It takes three minutes to boil an egg. Slightly longer if it's still inside the chicken, admittedly. The panel, you will be shocked - and stunned - to learn, is set to include director Mike Barker along with actors Gwendoline Christie (playing Lucifer), Vivienne Acheampong (playing Dream's librarian, Lucienne) and Boyd Holbrook (playing the serial-killer The Corinthian). The screening aimed to show the first two episodes of the drama which will, hopefully, kick-off a remarkable adaptation of what started life as a remarkable - and much-loved - monthly comic in 1989 and ran for seventy five issues (plus a couple of specials). This blogger's got them all, dear blog reader. The Herald then, helpfully, explained what it was all about for any younglings out there: 'The main plot of the comics follows Morpheus, who also goes by the name Dream, who is captured by an occult group in 1916 and imprisoned for decades before escaping and trying to rebuild his kingdom of The Dreaming, which includes a quest to reclaim his stolen objects of power - a ruby, a bag of sand and his helm forged from the bones of a dead god. From there on in we watch as this more-than-Godlike being comes to question his own past actions, the consequences of that questioning and the remarkable individuals he meets along his journey. For those who followed the run of comics - considered one of the most popular in DC's history - they encountered everything from William Shakespeare, John Milton, characters from Greek, Roman, Norse and Celtic mythology, plus cameos from Caesar Augustus, Marco Polo, Mark Twain, Maximilien Robespierre and even the little known Emperor Norton I of the United States.' Plus cats, ravens, a secluded shady glade-made-human and, well, Death. Trust this blogger, even the Plymouth Herald can't make The Sandman sound rubbish even if they try really hard.
At this point, dear blog reader, Keith Telly Topping is tempted to relate to you all his infamous after-dinner story about the time he shared a panel with Neil at a convention in Minneapolis and then, cheekily, got Neil to signed about eight random issues of The Sandman that this blogger had dragged six thousand miles across the Mighty Blue Ocean specifically for that purpose. He would, dear blog reader, but telling that story is so 2019.
Monday morning's record-to-last UFO on Legend was The Responsibility Seat. In many ways a pretty standard episode with some good action sequences and George Sewell acting his little cotton socks off. But, it was turned into an, allegedly, 'controversial' segment (and, as a consequence, in certain parts if the country not shown for up to four years after most of the rest of the series and, even then, only in a Midnight graveyard slot). Due entirely, it would seem, to the - very real - fears within ITV that if anyone saw Jane Merrow in her bra and panties, their brains would simply explode. To which, actually, there may be some truth ...
The finale of Legend's breakfast-time repeat run of UFO occurred on Tuesday. The following day, they replaced Gerry Anderson's acclaimed 1969-70 SF drama with, of all things, Airwolf. And, if Legend believed this blogger would be crawling out The Stately Telly Topping Manor Plague House stinkin' pit for that, they'd've had another thing coming. So, The Long Sleep, then, dear blog reader. Hippies! Hippies running away from home cos, like, it was a tired scene, okay? Hippies getting hassled by The Pigs. Hippies squatting (because, all property is theft, right?) Hippies, pumped full of drugs. Hippies on an acid trip with a really together spooky-weird colour scheme. Hippies believing they can fly. Wrongly, as it turned out. An attempted rape. Weird malarkey and shit. Get a wash, hippies and get your hair cut. No wonder some of the ITV regions got extremely twitchy over this one. Because, as everyone knows, you should never trust a hippy. So, now, if this blogger wishes to have a daily dose of UFO over The Stately Telly Topping Manor Plague House cereal, it'll mean lugging out The Stately Telly Topping Manor Plague Houser UFO DVD box-set(s). Given a choice between that and Airwolf, however, this blogger will go for the DVDs every time.
In the last From The North bloggerisationisms update, this blogger bemoaned - at some length - his total regret at having missed a couple of quite obvious examples of the form from his previous bloggerisationism essay B Crumble & The Stinkers: The British Post-War B-Movie - A Re-Assessment. This week, of course, as anyone with half-a-brain in their skull could've predicted, he recalled another - and, really quite obvious - one that he'd missed (this may well turn into yet another semi-regular From The North series, dear blog reader, 'B-Movies Keith Telly Topping Forgot About When Trying To Be All Authoritative On The Subject'). But, this was a - truly - spectacular missed opportunity for this Keith Telly Topping to witter on - at length - about one of this blogger's favourite British movies of the 1960s, The Pleasure Girls.
Made, in 1965, by Michael Klinger and Tony Tenser's Compton-Cameo Films, produced by Klinger, Harry Fine and Robert Sterne and directed by Gerry O'Hara - previously responsible for such curios as That Kind Of Girl (1963) and a magnificent adaptation of Edgar Wallace's Game For Three Losers (1965) - The Pleasure Girls was a mid-1960s London variant on the cautionary 'if you can't handle The Big City, young lady, stay at home in the provinces' morality tale which was very much in vogue at the time. Both in music (think of, for instance, The Kinks''Big Black Smoke') and in the cinema. It's a sort of (very) low-budget version of Georgy Girl (with bits of A Taste Of Honey thrown-in), or a (low-budget) female equivalent of The Knack ... And How To Get It. Only, without the laddish humour (though it does have the latter's quota of - entirely frowned-upon - sexist gittery).
In a London which is not quite yet a-swingin', baby (but, getting there), O'Hara's film takes place over the course of just one weekend as relationships are established and then crumble to dust when the darker sides of the male characters come to the fore. At the beginning, however, The Pleasure Girls feels like it's going to be something entirely different. Sally (the astonishingly-good From The North favourite Francesca Annis) is a reasonably well-off country girl, new to the capital and ready to start a career as a model. The fact that this is almost directly a word-for-word description of the plot of Edgar Wright's recent - From The North favourite - Last Night In Soho - proves that there's nothing new under The Sun, dear blog reader. (This blogger, please note, did say 'almost' directly; in Last Night In Soho, Thomasin McKenzie comes to London from Wiltshire to be study fashion design rather than appearing in front of the camera. But, otherwise ...)
Sally moves in with her new beast fiends, the sensible Marion (From The North favourite Rosemary Nichols), the slightly less-sensible Angela (From The North favourite Anneke Wills), the much-less-sensible Dee (Suzanna Leigh) and stock 1960s Australian, Cobber (Colleen Fitzpatrick), along with their gay friend Paddy (Tony Tanner). Which was quite a brave bit of storytelling, considering that this was 1965, two years before homosexuality was decriminalised in the UK.
The plot is almost exclusively based around the women's relationships. Sally quickly meets flash young photographer Keith (From The North favourite Ian McShane) at a slightly-swingin' party, But, she refuses to give in to his desperation for a quick bit of how's yer father and two minutes of squelching noises. Because, she's a nice girl and she doesn't do that sort of thing. Yet. Marion, meanwhile, is pregnant with the child of gambler Prinny (another From The North favourite, Mark Eden whom O'Hara had previously used as Michael Gough's blackmailer in Game For Three Losers). Dee is chasing money as 'the other woman' of married slum landlord Nikko (a curiously out-of-place Klaus Kinski), Cobber spends all of her cash trying to lose her Australian accent for a potential film career and Angela runs around (unsuccessfully) looking for the right man. Come on, darlin', you're Anneke Bloody Wills, you shouldn't have any trouble attracting a chap or several. Paddy is content being everyone's shoulder-to-cry-upon, until he's caught in a supposedly 'shocking' clinch with his boyfriend by Sally.
Each of the relationships plays out individually, but they occasionally overlap. Keith uses both charm and guile in an effort to get Sally's knickers down, Prinny sells Marion's jewellery to fund his gambling, whilst making more enemies in the process. Mainly in the audience, let it be noted. You utter bastard, Mark Eden! That's Rosemary Nichols you're screwing with, matey. You should be as ashamed of yourself as you were when you tried to kill Rita Fairclough in Corrie two decades later.
Meanwhile Dee enjoys the high life, but not without seeing the misery and violence inherent in the system relating to Nikko's slums and the hatred that his tenants have for him. With, ultimately, hilariously toxic consequences.
The Pleasure Girls is a fine movie, its minuscule budget notwithstanding. The storyline is Mod-sharp and covers a wide spectrum of 1960s clichés - from the grubby gambler to the 'with-it' David Bailey-style photographer and the evil Peter Rackman-wannabe. A gay relationship and a single mother are also thrown into the max (that's the A Taste of Honey influence there in one line), adding a very then-current realpolitik edge to a movie which, despite flirting with both is neither sensationalist, or overly-ernest and moralistic. A perfect reflection of the swiftly-changing times in which it was made and the shifting attitudes that came with it, it's a far more realistic portrayal of 1965 London than, say, the far more successful Darling or the far more controversial Repulsion. In some ways (notably, Marion and Dee's stories), it's closer in spirit to something like Alfie. The acting is mostly very good and, thanks to Anneke and Rosemary's future Telefantasy-related career paths it even has a bit of a cult following already. And, yes dear blog reader, this blogger does, indeed, deserve to be flogged in the mush with a wet kipper for not including it in B Crumble & The Stinkers: The British Post-War B-Movie - A Re-Assessment. If you should ever get the chance to see it (and, given that it's available on duel format DVD from the BFI, it's not rare or anything), for God's sake don't let the 'very much of it's time'trailer ('They Came For Kicks! These bittersweet beauties of London's bedsitter land!') put you off.
Now - by popular request (no, really) - the return of the latest semi-regular From The North feature, Memorably Daft Lines From British Horror Movies Of The 1970s. Number Eleven (in a series of more than this blogger imagined when he started it): Peter Cushing: 'Ze verewulf izt ze devil's own spawn ... Zer izt only von cure!'Ze sorry The Beast Must Die.
Memorably Daft Lines From British Horror Movies Of The 1970s (or, in this case, the late 1960s). Number Twelve (in a series of lots): Jill Howarth: 'I'm a country girl, moonlit nights and me were made for each other!' Mark Wynter: 'What do you fancy, an orgy or a séance?'The Haunted House Of Horror. How different history may have been had Michael Armstrong's original choice for the role of Richard (David Bowie) been cast. Armstrong also, allegedly, wanted Ian Ogilvy for the role that was eventually taken by Frankie Avalon and Jane Merrow for the female lead. He got neither.
Memorably Daft Lines From British Horror Movies Of The 1970s. Number Thirteen (in a series of lots): Roger Moore: 'Espionage isn't all James Bond on Her Majesty's Secret Service. Industry goes in for it too, you know?'The Man Who Haunted Himself. Yes, Roge, very meta. He's bloody good in that film, though. It's the movie to show anyone who claims that Roge can't act.
Memorably Daft Lines From British Horror Movies Of The 1970s. Number Fourteen (in a series of lots): Daniel Massey: 'Attempts were made to bribe or threaten her into handing over a complete list of her blackmail victims to a bunch of foreigners. She said "No! Over my dead body." Hence ... her dead body!'Fragment Of Fear. A genuinely sharp, paranoid little chiller - with a superb cast - right up to the final scene which, then, conspires to ruin everything that's gone before.
Though, to be fair, David Hemmings did acquire a wife out of the experience. So, you know, you win some, you lose some.
Memorably Daft Lines From British Horror Movies Of The 1970s. Number Fifteen (in a series of lots): Michele Dotrice: 'Did you get your bum pinched?' Pamela Franklin: 'No, that's Italy.' Michele Dotrice: 'What are we doing in France, then?!'And Soon, The Darkness. Which, apart from a couple of bits that make no sense towards the end, is another thoroughly terrific little movie. Brian Clemens proving that he was capable of writing decent dialogue if he really put his mind to it. And, Terry Nation proving that he was, also, capable of writing decent dialogue ... for non-Daleks.
Memorably Daft Lines From British Horror Movies Of The 1970s. Number Sixteen (in a series of lots): Ronald Lacey: 'She introduced Victor to this weird cult. They believed that the spirits of the dead had power over the living. They actually believed that souls could take over and transform living flesh.' James Bolam: 'You don't believe all that rubbish? The only spirits you believe in are pale brown and poured from a bottle!'Crucible Of Terror. A daft line from a really daft (though, hugely enjoyable) movie.
This blogger also noted during the subsequent discussion on Facebook that, although by all accounts Jimmy Bolam had a not particularly pleasant experience making this movie, both he and Ron Lacey seems to be having a lot of fun with their characters, both rather playing against type. Less so in the case of Ron who still has elements of his stock 'spineless, corrupt, alcoholic and rather sneaky' character(!), but at least he's not playing a Nazi in this one. Or, indeed, a baby eating, red-hot poker-wielding Somerset bishop.
Memorably Daft Lines From British Horror Movies Of The 1970s. Number Seventeen (in a series of lots): Ringo Starr (MBE): 'Now, please excuse me, I must concern myself with completing your astrological chart.'Son Of Dracula. Another absolute triumph for Apple Films!
God, dear blog reader, Son Of Dracula is a phunking dreadful movie. Though, compared to the other great disaster in Freddie Francis's - otherwise, more-than-decent - filmography, The Vampire Happening, Son Of Dracula is Casablanca!
Memorably Daft Lines From British Horror Movies Of The 1970s. Number Eighteen (in a series of lots): Richard Todd: 'Rest in pieces!'Asylum.
Memorably Daft Lines From British Horror Movies Of The 1970s. Number Nineteen (in a series of lots): John Cater: 'What he doesn't know about vampirism, wouldn't fill a flea's codpiece!'Captain Kronos - Vampire Hunter.
Memorably Daft Lines From British Horror Movies Of The 1970s. Number Twenty (in a series of lots): Ralph Bates: 'You can help me with my studies.' Glenys O'Brien: 'Shall I take my clothes off now?' Ralph Bates: 'Later, Maggie, later!'Horror Of Frankenstein. Such a thoughtful mad scientist that Victor Frankenstein ...
As mentioned two or threeFrom The North bloggerisationism updates ago, this blogger is, soon, to start on another all-weekend DVD marathon. He's got it down to one of two choices for the series involved, dear blog reader. To be honest, though, it's a far tougher choice than it might first appear to be.
Following the insomnia-induced completion of the last From The North bloggerisationisms update, frighteningly early last Sunday morning, the day then proceeded thus, dear blog reader: Weekly washing, done. Vacuuming the bedroom, done. Breakfast, done. Paying the rent, water rates and topping-up this blogger's gas and electric charges, done (online). By just after 10am, already, this blogger was seriously knackerated, done for the day and in dire need of a nice long lie down as the mercury threatened to explode out of the thermometer. Who was it that said Sunday was a day of rest? God, apparently. That's right, this blogger knew it was some Tory (thank you, Rik).
Which brings us - with a dreadful inevitability - to that inexcusably-regular part of From The North dedicated to this blogger's on-going medical-related thingies. For those dear blog readers who haven't been following this on-going saga which appears to have been on-going longer than The Rolling Stones have been growing old disgracefully, it goes like this: This blogger spent weeks feeling awful; had five days in hospital; was discharged; received B12 injections; then more injections; somewhat recovered his appetite; got a diagnosis; had a consultant's meeting; continued to suffer fatigue and insomnia; endured a second endoscopy; had anotherconsultation; got toothache; had an extraction; which took ages to heal; had yet another consultation; spent a whole week where nothing remotely health-related occurred; was given further - really painful - injections; had an echocardiogram; had more blood extraction; had yet another hospital visit to see the consultant and saw the usual - thoroughly whinge-worthy - insomnia and continuing exhaustion continue. So, no change there, then. The roasting hot weather hasn't exactly helped with sleeping or with feeling energetic, let it be noted.
This blogger was, sad to report, back to the hospital for another round of blood letting and blood pressure tests on Tuesday. Still, at least once that minor inconvenience was over it was down to the Little Asia to meet up with his fiend Young Malcolm. At which point, dear blog reader, lunch was extremely taken.
And, dear blog reader, needless to say it was deserved.
Really deserved.
It's not often these days, dear blog reader, that yer actual Keith Telly Topping gets to leave the (allegedly) germ-free safety of The Stately Telly Topping Manor Plague House for anything other than medical appointments once in a week, let alone twice in three days. But, this week was an exception to the 'new normal'. Thanks for this singular state of affairs go to this blogger's fine fiend Mick The Mod Snowden and his good lady, Cath. And, to the pandemic which twice postponed a rock and/or roll jigg which this blogger was supposed to have attended with them. Sadly, this blogger couldn't make the jigg in question which finally took place this very week (From The Jam and The Selecter at The Boiler Shop which, by all accounts, was a bit of a corker). Due, of course, to his current inability to stand upright for more than ten minutes let alone a couple of hours. This blogger was, frankly, a bit gutted at having to miss the show since a) he hasn't seen The Selecter live since 1981 (when they sounded like this); b) it was the Sound Affects Fortieth Anniversary Tour and this blogger actually saw The Jam on the original Sound Affects tour in 1980. At this very gig, in actual fact. He's in the front row of the balcony at the City Hall wearing a parka if you reckon you can spot him. And c), given that it was the Sound Affects Fortieth Anniversary Tour, one of the things that was keeping this blogger awake at night was wondering how the Hell Russell, Bruce and ... the other one were going to play 'Music For The Last Couple' live, something that The Jam themselves never managed.
In the event, Mick informs this blogger that they didn't bother (and, they didn't do either 'Dream Time' or 'Scrape Away' either). So, make that The Three-Quarters Of Sound Affects Anniversary Tour. Even so, this blogger is still Goddamn pissed-off that he was unable to make the show.
It's probably just as well that The Godlike Genius This Is Bruce Foxton's former bandmate isn't currently touring the Long Hot Summer Thirty Ninth Anniversary Tour, topical as such a happenstance would be.
It's a pity The Weller Fellah isn't doing that, on reflection. Merton Mick could probably do with the money. Anyway, health-related malarkey notwithstanding, we did meet up for a really nice meal at the very excellent Pani's on High Bridge before Mick and Cath made their way down the hill to the Quayside for a night of quality skanking (and, Mick got a selfie taken with Pauline Black, the lucky so-and-so). The meal - and the craic - was splendid, as usual. Including a rather more heated and intense debate than was entirely necessary about what record labels The Vapours and The Jags were on - United Artists and Island respectively, if you're wondering. You want proof, dear blog reader? I'll give ya proof ...
The only downer of the night, for the first time in a bloody fortnight, it started raining just as this blogger headed off up Pilgrim Street to the bus stop. Not just a little bit, either. Don't you hate it when that happens?
First thing on Saturday morning, dear blog reader, this blogger left the (allegedly) germ-free safety of The Stately Telly Topping Manor Plague House and got the bus down to ALDI assuming that getting his shopping out of the way then, it would been a bit cooler(ish) than once The Sun got up, properly later on. Bad move. Later, just before lunch, this blogger popped out for a few minutes to get some fresh air. And he noticed, with utter horror, that his local amateur football team (err, that's Soch-her for all From The North's dear American blog readers), Walker Central (formerly Walker Celtic), who play a mere short stone's throw (if you're the world shot-putting champion) from The Stately Telly Topping Manor Plague House were having a pre-season 'warm-up' game. At noon. On the hottest July day in living memory. The guys did not look like they were putting in a lot of effort, to be fair. Returning home, this blogger had a cold lunch and then did something that you're only supposed to do if you're in your Seventies; he fell asleep on The Stately Telly Topping Manor Plague House sofa. For three hours. Come November, dear blog reader, if this blogger should utter so much as a teeny-tiny whingette about hating the cold, someone, please remind Keith Telly Topping about this day. And then shoot him!
And finally, dear blog readers, the winner of this week's From The North Headline Of The Week award is yet another triumph for the headline writers at BBC News. And, in other news, apparently The Pope is Catholic.
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