HAPPY BIRTHDAY Doctor Who, which started 46 years ago today!

Off to see The Fall now at Bristol Metropolis – a totally sold out gig!

Expect I shall drink the long draught, Dan, as not drinking at a Fall gig is unthinkable. I shall therefore allow myself to fall off the wagon.  (Do you see what I did there?!)

ALL HAIL THE MIGHTY FALL.

Decided not to go on the Art Trail today, because it’s PISSING DOWN, or do the poetry slam, because I’ve got no-one to go with (sob! Weep!)

So I am going to stay in and cook a curry instead. Sunday night Beef Korai – the decadence.

In a moment of madness I bought one of those tiny, telescopic umbrellas in Sainsbury’s, for 12 quid. Of course, when I left the shop, it had stopped raining, temporarily, so I haven’t used the thing yet. I did put it up when I got home, though, to see if it worked. Don’t say that putting up an umbrella indoors is bad luck, because it’s bollocks. It did scare the cat, though.

Er… that’s all for now.

 

 

 

Been out and about today on the Totterdown Art Trail where the residents of Totterdown open their front rooms to display their works of art. It’s dominated by painting but there are some interesting sculptures and multi-media installations too. Immensely heartening to see, and reminds me of what a great place Totterdown is.

It continues tomorrow and includes a poetry slam at the Shakespeare, preceded by an Open Mic session, which I may attend and inflict some of my truly awful poety (some of which has been posted to this blog as recently as yesterday) on the populace of Totterdown. Or I might not – doing stand-up poetry is something I am considering but have not got round to organising yet. I think it’s worth a go – my poems are funny, I think, and I’m old enough and ugly enough not to care about hecklers. “OH FUCK OFF, YOU FAT GINGER CUNT, YOU’R CRAP!”  they may shout, and they’d be right, but I wouldn’t care, and carry on.

But which poems? Ken’s Big Bite I quite like. Also Sad Ken’s Lonely Beer. And some other ones not about old Ken. Masturbation Man is good if a bit disturbing. And The Sweary Alphabet would surely get me bottled of stage.

Anyway, we shall see!

Ken’s Big Bite

A slice of Hovis Best of Both Invisible Crust (Thick)
A light smearing of Flora Pro-Activ Extra Light
Then on with the ham -
Tesco’s Finest Wholegrain Mustard Wiltshire Cured Ham
£2.97 for four slices
That’s 3 Clubcard points
Quality
Not like the “20 slices for £1.29” crap, which is mostly water, and has the texture and flavour of a mouse’s tongue
On top of the ham, some grated cheese. Davidstow mature cheddar or Cracker Barrel – something with a bit of bite
On top of that some thin slices of Sainsbury’s Flavouripe tomato – tricky, this – need a very sharp knife – careful – mind fingers – ah!
Cold tap on
Five minutes
Frantic, sweaty, but ultimately fruitful search for Elastoplast
There
Then some black pepper, from a pepper grinder purchased during a desperate excursion to IKEA, during which there was an argument with the wife, a cricked neck, a harrowing visit to the lavatory, confusion, fermenting ire, and intermittent thoughts of suicide
Then lettuce – not that tastless iceberg rubbish, but 2 leaves of Sainsbury’s Organic Little Gem Heart. Tasty. Mmm
Then the finishing touch: a blob of mayonnaise – Hellmans, of course
Only the best
Then on top of all that the the other slice of Hovis Best of Both Invisible Crust (Thick) again lightly smeared with Flora Pro-Activ Extra Light
Then press gently down – not too hard
And replace the slice of tomato that has fallen out
Onto a plate with it
Perfection
Anticipation
Salivary glands in operation…

And then, like a thief in the night,
Ken, with his teeth, took a bite.

Fallen off again. Met my Dad – who  I don’t see often enough – up the Bush for a few ales.

Thursdays seem to be my weak points – oh well.

So if this is not a completely booze free month at least I have cut right down, so I should be happy with that.

 

 

Can’t you tell this daily blogging is becoming a bit of a chore?

This, however, MUST be shared.

 

 

Quack!

After the inconsequential tease of The Next Doctor and the joyless vacuity of Planet of the Dead, it was about time the HOLY FUCK! factor returned to Doctor Who. You know, those moments like the reveal of the Daleks at the end of Doomsday and the Master in Utopia, or the Doctor “regenerating” in Journey’s End. And about time the show delivered on its story titles instead of misleading (it wasn’t World War Three or Doomsday, he wasn’t The Next Doctor, she wasn’t The Doctor’s Daughter). Well the title is the least interesting thing about The Waters of Mars, as the story of alien possession on a colony world could have happened anywhere and anywhen, as it provided a mere backdrop to STUNNING developments in the Doctor’s character and at LEAST three HOLY FUCK! moments. Indeed it could have been called The Jizz-Monsters of Joconda, for all the relevance this trad Base Under Siege story had to the Doctor’s story.

I’m being a tad unfair there, because of course the fates of the characters on Bowie Base One and especially Captain Adelaide Brooke did have  a bearing on the Doctor’s decision not to interfere (and then to dilly-dally, and then finally to interfere, overstepping his bounds and committing that Shakespearean sin of hubris).  It’s The Fires Of Pompeii all over again as the Doctor lands smack back in the middle of a documented historical event and can do bugger all to save anyone. But I was screaming at the screen, “Use the TARDIS! Get them all away!” during the first ten minutes. It was the first thing he thought of when it all went tits-up in Voyage of the Damned, but the TARDIS was floating around outside the Titanic then so he couldn’t use it. It’s just sitting there within walking distance in The Waters of Mars so why didn’t he use it? I’ll need to watch again but a line or two about this might have helped clarify things.

But maybe it was all part of the “Doctor Fucks Up” plot. In The Waters of Mars, the Doctor makes the wrong decisions, dithers, is selfish, and, eventually, slips over into grandiose arrogance worthy of The Master. “The Laws of Time are MINE – AND THEY WILL OBEY ME!” and “A Time Lord victorious!” are lines delivered chillingly by Tennant. HOLY FUCK! moments both. Thank God for his moment of realisation after Adelaide’s suicide, or this development may have been a step too far. The Doctor has overstepped his bounds and it looks like he’s gonna get his ass kicked in The End Of Time. By Timothy Dalton.

Oh I’ve not mentioned the water zombies or the other characters or Gadget or anything. Well, they were OK, though the zombies looked more silly than scary. They weren’t the main point of the story anyway, really. That was the Doctor, losing it big time, thinking he’s God, becoming the sort of being he would usually fight against. It was rivetting to watch, rivetting and shocking. Holy Fuck.

Somehow I doubt the Doctor is going to have a very merry Christmas this year.

Off to Badger’s house in a mo to watch Doctor Who – The Waters of Mars, and cheer like a mong when I spot the inevitable Ice Warriors reference.

It’s been hyped as dark and scary and harrowing, and looks like it might be good but not great, a trad monster runaround with the twist that as it’s an established historical event the Doctor has to let everyone die. What larks! Anyway, it can’t be as bad as Planet of the Dead.

Review later (if I have time).

I first found out about Venetian Snares via b3ta, on a thread about pubs. Someone posted that they used to annoy the locals in a remote country boozer by putting Hand Throw by Venetian Snares on the jukebox, on repeat. Intrigued, to YouTube I went and had my brains blasted out by this:

The bit after “RUN THAT MOTHERFUCKING RHYTHM COS WE’RE READY” almost gave me a heart attack the first time I heard it. I can well imagine how it would go down in the Woolpack.

Interestingly Hand Throw is a reference to the legend behind the origin of Antwerp’s name, which is probably why some bloke shouts “ANTWERP MASSIVE!” at some point.

A bit more research and I discovered that the man behind Venetian Snares is this Canadian Viking bloke called Aaron Funk, who has released a shitload of albums, over 20 since 1998, and loads of EPs and singles. His music is hard to categorise, but is broadly intelligent dance music characterised by incredibly complex drum programming, bizarre time signatures and mercilessly pummelling beats that make a mockery of BPM. Oh and he’s done some classical music albums as well. The guy is insanely prolific and talented.

And he’s got quite a knack for song titles, e.g. The Hopeless Pursuit Of Remission, Poo Yourself Jason, Halfway Up The Stairway Of Mucus, Macerate and Petrify, Dance Like You’re Selling Nails, Winnipeg Is A Frozen Shithole, Mongoloid Alien,  Yes Love My Soul Is Black, and my favourite, and best song title ever:

His Magnum Opus is, however, the stunning 15-minute track, A Giant Alien Force More Violent And Sick Than Anything You Can Imagine. I almost fainted the first time I heard this, and it still makes me go cold all over, and my brain explode.

So, if you like this sort of thing, I heartily recommend the Snares.

And I can’t wait to inflict Hand Throw on the locals up the Bush (yes, still on wagon, went there last night and had a pint. Of coke. Sob).