Why the hell are the BBC selecting and publicising the new Dr Who well over a year before the bugger is going to appear on TV? I believe the chap who’s playing him was born some 3 years ago and has appeared in two previous TV productions. I realise people have to be given a chance, but surely one starts at the bottom and works one’s way up, rather than being thrust into superstardom while still a child. The role of Dr Who is not a part to be trivialised – The Doctor is after all a national treasure – regardless of who is selected to portray him.
After watching an episode of Grand Designs last night we’ve come to realise that our use of wood for the exterior of Badger’s End is so ‘of the moment’. We’re also going to start having to give some consideration to interior materials before much longer. We’ve decided to apply for planning permission for the revised location in the field ASAP, rather than waiting for input from a highways consultant. It only costs a few hundred to apply for planning, whereas hiring a highways consultant is going to cost several grand. We’re working on the principle that it will probably be thrown out for some minor reasons anyway, but should those reasons not include access, then we won’t have to needlessly spend money of a highways consultant. It’s the least-risk approach. The finished house is going to look something like this.
ITV are a bunch of bastards. We were waiting for a new series, Demons, to start at 19:10 last night (for no other reason than Hay likes Philip Glenister), but the football match between Liverpool and Preston overran. Fine, OK, so you expect football to take slight precedence and Demons to start a little late – 5 minutes max. Well, the football ends 20 minutes late and then the buggers had the gall to have a bloody analysis for another 5 minutes. Why do we have to be subjected to an analysis? We know the result – 2:1 – surely that’s all anyone needs to know about a football match? As it transpired, Philip Glenister speaking with an American accent just didn’t work. It’s about as incongruous as the Pope toting an AK47. Lost interest after realising the programme was more akin to Hollyoaks meets Buffy and was suddenly overcome by an irrational desire to view Mamma Mia!
Another TV advert – Fern Britten advertising Ryvita. That’s a bit like Jade Goody advertising the Encyclopaedia Britannica. Surely she’d be better off advertising gastric bypass surgery?
In the last 2 weeks I’ve overdosed on TV. Had enough to last me for the next 12 months and it has confirmed by opinion that the proliferation of TV channels has led to an overall dumbing down of programming. It’s all reality TV with nonentity celebrities who are famous for having the intellect of a donkey. Children’s TV is no better and comprises nothing more taxing than burps, farts and canned laughter.
While looking for accommodation in Cornwall later this month I had an e-mail from someone rejoicing in the delightful surname of Halfyard. However, in these days of metrication should they not change their name to Halfmetre so as to be in line with EU legislation?
Heard Anne Widdecombe on the radio yesterday morning. I have absolutely nothing against the woman, except possibly her politics, her religion and her personal philosophy, but the one thing about her that really gets on my nerves is her voice. It has that hideous attribute of changing octaves several times within a single sentence in the manner of a caricature Oscar Wilde dowager Duchess. I can imagine her as Lady Bracknell uttering the immortal words, “A handbag?”
Here’s something to think on. Hay saw a girl in a fake fur collar yesterday and wanted one. I suggested she gets a real fur collar, to which she commented that fur was cruel – farming animals purely to use their fur being unethical. However, fake fur is made from plastics (i.e. petro-chemicals) and is hence made from unsustainable materials. Real fur, on the other hand, is the product of millions of years of evolution and much better suited to the purpose, as well as being a sustainable product. When all is said and done, farming animals for their fur – provided they are treated well while alive and killed ethically – is no worse than farming them for their meat. In fact, I would submit that animals farmed for fur are, in general, far better treated than battery hens and or veal calves. If we were ever in a situation where the population were to be decimated by disease, I doubt any celebrity model would be too worried about making a highly publicised ethical stance over the wearing of real fur – we’d all be clamouring for the damned stuff.
Another thought! Ethics – that which we do when other people are looking. Morals – that which remains when no-one is looking.
Hay and I went to Nailsworth for an afternoon out yesterday and noticed several vans full of police, which is rather incongruous for a sleepy Cotswold town. I suspect they were in attendance for the Annual Nailsworth Irony Riots.
After watching an episode of Grand Designs last night we’ve come to realise that our use of wood for the exterior of Badger’s End is so ‘of the moment’. We’re also going to start having to give some consideration to interior materials before much longer. We’ve decided to apply for planning permission for the revised location in the field ASAP, rather than waiting for input from a highways consultant. It only costs a few hundred to apply for planning, whereas hiring a highways consultant is going to cost several grand. We’re working on the principle that it will probably be thrown out for some minor reasons anyway, but should those reasons not include access, then we won’t have to needlessly spend money of a highways consultant. It’s the least-risk approach. The finished house is going to look something like this.
ITV are a bunch of bastards. We were waiting for a new series, Demons, to start at 19:10 last night (for no other reason than Hay likes Philip Glenister), but the football match between Liverpool and Preston overran. Fine, OK, so you expect football to take slight precedence and Demons to start a little late – 5 minutes max. Well, the football ends 20 minutes late and then the buggers had the gall to have a bloody analysis for another 5 minutes. Why do we have to be subjected to an analysis? We know the result – 2:1 – surely that’s all anyone needs to know about a football match? As it transpired, Philip Glenister speaking with an American accent just didn’t work. It’s about as incongruous as the Pope toting an AK47. Lost interest after realising the programme was more akin to Hollyoaks meets Buffy and was suddenly overcome by an irrational desire to view Mamma Mia!
Another TV advert – Fern Britten advertising Ryvita. That’s a bit like Jade Goody advertising the Encyclopaedia Britannica. Surely she’d be better off advertising gastric bypass surgery?
In the last 2 weeks I’ve overdosed on TV. Had enough to last me for the next 12 months and it has confirmed by opinion that the proliferation of TV channels has led to an overall dumbing down of programming. It’s all reality TV with nonentity celebrities who are famous for having the intellect of a donkey. Children’s TV is no better and comprises nothing more taxing than burps, farts and canned laughter.
While looking for accommodation in Cornwall later this month I had an e-mail from someone rejoicing in the delightful surname of Halfyard. However, in these days of metrication should they not change their name to Halfmetre so as to be in line with EU legislation?
Heard Anne Widdecombe on the radio yesterday morning. I have absolutely nothing against the woman, except possibly her politics, her religion and her personal philosophy, but the one thing about her that really gets on my nerves is her voice. It has that hideous attribute of changing octaves several times within a single sentence in the manner of a caricature Oscar Wilde dowager Duchess. I can imagine her as Lady Bracknell uttering the immortal words, “A handbag?”
Here’s something to think on. Hay saw a girl in a fake fur collar yesterday and wanted one. I suggested she gets a real fur collar, to which she commented that fur was cruel – farming animals purely to use their fur being unethical. However, fake fur is made from plastics (i.e. petro-chemicals) and is hence made from unsustainable materials. Real fur, on the other hand, is the product of millions of years of evolution and much better suited to the purpose, as well as being a sustainable product. When all is said and done, farming animals for their fur – provided they are treated well while alive and killed ethically – is no worse than farming them for their meat. In fact, I would submit that animals farmed for fur are, in general, far better treated than battery hens and or veal calves. If we were ever in a situation where the population were to be decimated by disease, I doubt any celebrity model would be too worried about making a highly publicised ethical stance over the wearing of real fur – we’d all be clamouring for the damned stuff.
Another thought! Ethics – that which we do when other people are looking. Morals – that which remains when no-one is looking.
Hay and I went to Nailsworth for an afternoon out yesterday and noticed several vans full of police, which is rather incongruous for a sleepy Cotswold town. I suspect they were in attendance for the Annual Nailsworth Irony Riots.
2 comments:
"Why do we have to be subjected to an analysis? We know the result – 2:1 – surely that’s all anyone needs to know about a football match?"
Chairman,
Quite clearly you don't know the result!
Anon - a slip of the digit. I naturally meant 2:0
Rgds/TC
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