Social Mediocre

Social Mediocre

Social mediocre photo pest,

cocktail dresses to excess,

lumpen, frumpen, sporting sails;

launch The Pequod, lampoon the whale.

Guzzling gin and troughing cake,

Posting pictures somehow fake.

Vacant grin and double chin,

stinks out photos she is in.

Peripheral centre of attention,

shares whenever she craves affection.

What’s app? She’ll instagrab a grand

of emojis to demonstrate a stand.

Message, guessage, profile tricks,

relishing wrecks of relationships.

With nearly friends in almost places,

pictured with her mind in stasis.

Hector, Lector, vile spectre,

Turns up when you most expect her.

Retweeter keeper, likes collector,

timeline detective tick inspector.

Grizzler, grunter, snuffle truffler,

tell her but you’ll never muffle her.

Sodden fag-butt best forgotten,

teaspoon stuck at the bowel’s bottom.

Be Still Your Voice in My Head (At Ibn Al Ameed)

Be Still Your Voice in My Head

At Ibn Al Ameed

I can always hear your soft complaining

scolding at the spitting raining

grumbling at the dust and fumes

humming chosen ancient tunes

Hi Ho Wolverhampton and here we go

dodging assassin traffic flow

weaving across White Palace Interchange

hailing Karwas blue and strange

gritting, hissing, piss poor comments

railing at our waste and torments. You say:

‘Don’t yow throw that away.
You can get a square meal

out of that tin of fish, with chili sauce it’s a good deal,

that is.”
And though you’ve gone and bloody died

I'm hearing your voice from the other side,

your Brummie accent nags at my head,

even though you’re fooking dead.

Looking across to Doha City

gazing from the dust and shitty

shimmering beacons, myriad colours

remembering times shared as brothers

grinding underfoot the gravel and sand

thinking what never goes as planned

arriving now at Ibn Al Ameed
hailing cabs that halt at speed

bewildering spoken Arabian snatches 

fumbling with the car door catches. You say:

‘Yow could walk and save money, too

and avoid that bloody taxi queue,

yow could.”
And though you’ve gone and bloody died

hearing your voice from the other side,

your Brummie accent nags through my head,

even though you’re fooking dead.

Sitting alone in this foreign bar,

regretting that half an hour it took by car

scratching scabs and bed bug sores

scraping clots with fingered claws

nailing just one further beer

pushing back one single tear

nodding at people half remembered

mouthing music badly rendered

spinning head and choking fag

flirting with some wizened hag. You say:

‘Doha? What are we doing here anyway?

Wolves and Charlton play today,

We could have gone, we could, yow know.’

I know. I bloody know. Don't you know? Still:

It’s true you’ve gone and bloody died

and I think I’m missing something inside,

your Brummie accent nags in my head,

even though you’re fooking dead.

The History of Popular Television in the UK #41

The History of Popular Television in the UK

#41

A series of articles which involve painstaking research, reconstruction and review.

Television as it happened – a document of the history of this once popular medium.

# 41: ‘ONLY FOOLS AND HORSES’

Mayhem and mirth on the streets of Peckham.

“Only Fools and Horses” was a cheaply realised situation comedy or ‘sitcom’ that ran for a couple of seasons in Britain in the 1980s.

Set in Peckham, London, it starred David Jason as Derek ‘Del Boy’ Trotter, a wheeling dealing confidence trickster of French extraction and his kid brother Rodney ‘Dipstick Plonker’ Trotter portrayed by Nicholas Lyndhurst.

Their comedy japes were ruined by a character called ‘Uncle Grandad’, a war veteran who had seen action in an assortment of frigates off the coast of Gibraltar. Uncle Grandad was played by several actors which did cause viewers some muddle.  The production team chose to conceal this confusing casting by having Uncle Grandad adopting comedy disguises: turbans, sunglasses and an unlikely outsized beard.

Plot

Typically an episode would consist of Rodney ‘Dipstick Plonker’ Trotter finding a valuable heirloom in Del Boy’s garage and selling it down the market for a million pounds with hilarious results.

The programme was cancelled after three seasons due to a disastrous drop in ratings as the writer ran out of valuable items for Rodney ‘Dipstick Plonker’ Trotter to find. Viewers complained in numbers after an episode entitled ‘Elephant in Peckham’ was shown which depicted Rodney finding a gigantic African bull elephant hidden under a carpet at the rear of the garage, claiming that it was ‘unrealistic’ and ‘strained the viewers credibility’.

Only Fools and Horses in:

‘Engaged of Peckham’

SCENE 1.  INT. LOCATION #1 - DAY 1  [09.20]

A SEEDY FLAT IN PECKHAM, LONDON. TO THE REAR IS A COCKTAIL BAR. FURNISHINGS ARE SPARSE. SEVERAL MISMATCHED CHAIRS ARE GROUPED AROUND AN OLD TELEVISION SET. LITTERED AROUND THE ROOM ARE VARIOUS INCONGRUOUS ITEMS SUCH AS BOXES OF TOILET TISSUES, SEVERAL TRACTOR TYRES, A PILE OF OLD STYLE VIDEO CASETTE RECORDERS.

CRASH ZOOM TO SHOW A HEAVILY BEARDED MAN WEARING SUNGLASSES AND A TURBAN SITTING IN ONE OF THE CHAIRS. CUE SOME CHEAP ‘COMEDY’ SOUND EFFECT FROM STOCK – FOR EXAMPLE A SWANEE WHISTLE OR FART. PAN LEFT TO SHOW A MIDDLE AGED MAN HOLDING A FRENCH STYLE BREADSTICK OR ‘BAGUETTE’. HE IS GRATING SOME CHEESE.

UNCLE GRANDAD

Del Boy. Is my breakfast ready?

DEL BOY

Mon dieu, mon dieu, crème de menthe. You dozy old twonk. Can’t you see that I am grating the fromage?

UNCLE GRANDAD

Fromage? What’s that then, Del Boy? Is it eels? I don’t like eels. I had a bad experience with an eel during the war.  Adolf Eelter.

DEL BOY

Adolf Eelter? Cor blimey, Guvnor, après ski, après ski. The only eels you ever saw was them high ‘eels when you was dressed as a prostitute spy behind enemy lines.

DEL BOY PUTS DOWN THE BAGUETTE. HE MOVES TOWARDS THE COCKTAIL BAR.

UNCLE GRANDAD

Where are you going Del Boy?

DEL BOY

Pierre du temps! I’m going to lean on the cocktail bar, you dozy old bark, shut your noise!

LEANING AGAINST THE COCKTAIL BAR, DEL BOY FALLS STRAIGHT THROUGH IT AND LANDS ON SOME TYRES CAUSING HIM TO BOUNCE SEVERAL TIMES. CUE CANNED LAUGHTER.

UNCLE GRANDAD

Have you fallen through the bar again, Del Boy?

DEL BOY

Boeuf a la mode! You dipstick, Uncle Grandad! Course I have. You wally. Stone me!

UNCLE GRANDAD

You’re always falling through them bars, Del Boy. You’ll do yourself a mischief. During the war, we was trained to fall through bars. Mars bars.

DEL BOY

Mars bars. Mange tout. What does he take me for? A plonker? You twonk!

CUT TO DOOR TO SHOW RODNEY ENTERING HOLDING SOMETHING IN HIS HANDS - A FAKE POTERY SILVER TELEPHONE MONEY BOX.

RODNEY

You fallen through the bar again, Del Boy?

DEL BOY

Pot Pourri! Course I have, I have to do it every episode. Have you been in our garage again, Rodney, you dipstick plonker?

UNCLE GRANDAD

What you got there, Rodney?

DEL BOY

Cor Blimey, it better not be another giant African bull elephant like the last time, you plonker, Rodney. Fromage frais, I still got bleeding nightmares about taking that past Peckham peanut shop. You said we would be millionaires! Well I had to pay that bloke nine sovs to replace all them peanuts, you dipstick!

RODNEY

Sorry about that Del Boy. Mickey Pearce said he knew a bloke that wanted an elephant as a pet and was prepared to pay top dollar for our elephant. Still that’s all over with now. Look what I found this time!

UNCLE GRANDAD

It looks like a fake silver plastic telephone money box! I ain’t seen one of those since we was off the coast of Gibraltar. During the war was told to retrieve dangerous German unexploded booby trapped fake plastic bomb telephone mines with boathooks and garters. Well, me and Jimmy Gutbiscuit was lowered off the starboard bow by our braces when…

DEL BOY

Please! Not another nautical nightmare, Uncle Grandad! Fermez la bouche!

RODNEY

This ain’t no ‘German unexploded booby trapped fake plastic bomb telephone mine’, Uncle Grandad….at least…I DON’T THINK SO!

DEL BOY

What’s that ticking noise? Like a clock? Mon dieu mon dieu can you hear it?

RODNEY

It’s most probably Uncle Grandad’s belly. Most strange noises seem to come from his direction. Let’s take this not actually a ‘German unexploded booby trapped fake plastic bomb telephone mine’ down the market and we’ll be millionaires!!

DEL BOY

Right you are, Rodders! This time next year, he who dares wins and other cobblers.

RODNEY

Here, Del Boy – what if it is an ‘German unexploded booby trapped fake plastic bomb telephone mine’?

DEL BOY

Shut up, you tart.

EXIT ALL EXCEPT FOR UNCLE GRANDAD WHO RUBS HIS BELLY CONFUSEDLY THEN PICKS UP THE BAGUETTE AND GRATED CHEESE

What's App??

What’s App?

Wilco.

I’m going into town later if you change your mind. Let me know. 😟

I think that’s a nay. I have lots of work to do. Yesterday was a write off. I sat in and waited but in the end nothing happened and I’m behind now. Enjoy yourself, won’t you?

Coffee? Quickly, tell me. Yaay or naay?

I can be with you in ten minutes, darling.

Coffee? Shall I come over? It doesn’t matter if you are still in your PJs.

I’ll let you sleep, then.

I don’t have a sexy new boyfriend. I texted you and then I fell asleep. 😳

Right. I can only assume you have a sexy new boyfriend and he is detaining you at his pleasure. OK. Well, fine. That’s fine. I understand.

OK. I’m worried now. You never don’t text me. You text me all the time. What’s going on?

Are you there?

What’s up?

I’m going to bed in a minute, it’s late, sweetheart. Look I’ll leave the door on the latch. If you want to drive over and pop in. Mmmmmm. I’d like to pop in myself. You know? If you let me. I’ll take my time, you know. Popping in. I’ll be long and slow, smooth, you’ll hardly notice, I promise. I’ll be sweet, tender.

Just listening to some music. One of our tunes. It’s getting late.

OK – so it’s ten o clock. I thought you’d be here by now.

Seven o clock. I’m just going to fix myself a bite to eat, since we didn’t get to go out. Bloody starving. Nowt in the freezer.

OK, sexy.

Let’s compromise. You nap. I’ll fix myself a strong coffee, have a shower then see how we feel, OK? 😉

Oh dear. How are you feeling? Are we getting lunch? It’s getting on, you know. I need my old man afternoon nap now.

Four in the morning. 😱

What time did you get in?

Great! Sounds fantastic. 😛

Yeah, it was a good night. Saw the football, had a couple of beers. Haven’t got a hangover, the band was awesome – they played a right mixture: Wings, The Police, Floyd, AC/DC – I was up and dancing, at my age, I ask you xx

Afternoon, babes. 😋 Good night, last night? 😀

You OK? I thought I would have heard from you by now. Thought we were off for lunch and a stroll around town.

Hey! You up and about?

The History of Popular Television in the UK #32

The History of Popular Television in the UK

#32

A series of articles which involve painstaking research, reconstruction and review.

Television as it happened – a document of the history of this once popular medium.

# 32: ‘DOCTOR WHO’

An Adventure in Time and Space

Doctor Who was invented by Verity Lambert in 1947 to replace a much-loved Saturday night sitcom called ‘Sykes’ which featured ‘Korky’ - an infuriating and unfunny policeman - who ruined every episode by being in it.

Famously she came up with the idea of an eccentric professor who would fly around the universe in a cupboard solving mysteries, when she was accidentally locked in a cupboard herself!

Whilst stumbling around in this cupboard, putting her feet in tin buckets, falling over mops and avoiding bleach (it was a cleaner’s cupboard), she decided that there wasn’t enough room in there to swing a cat.

It was now that she invented her protagonist: ‘Professor Clean’ and his sidekick, a robot cat called ‘Feel 9’, who would be useful in a scrape which involved mice or any other hordes of alien rodent invaders from Mars.

Verity wasted no time at all and filmed the first episode herself. She cast much loved veteran comedy actor Sid James as 'Clean'.

To her disappointment, however, the whole idea was scrapped almost immediately after the first episode aired. Literally dozens of letters of complaint were sent to Barry Took on ‘Points of View’ bemoaning the waste of licence fee payers’ money and demanding ‘Reality’ shows involving members of the public in airports.

Undeterred by failure, Verity did not let the grass grow under her feet and pitched the idea for a second ‘pilot’. This she titled ‘Practitioner Poo’. The second episode revolved around a ‘down on his luck’ futuristic stool doctor from Dudley who examined excrement for a living inside his gigantic box which he had invented to shield the stench of poo poo from the rest of the nation.

Alas this was not taken to the hearts of the viewing public either and was dubbed ‘shit’ which was accurate if a little unfair.

But the seeds were sewn and, with a little imagination, the ‘Practitioner’ became a ‘Doctor’ and the gigantic box became the TARDIS. This time the show was a runaway success and history, as they say, was made.

Many stories were aired that became firm favourites and are still remembered fondly today:

SPUDLEKS INVADE EARTH! (6 Episodes) by Terry Prodpluck: The Spudleks, a race of hostile robots, invade Earth and plan to pilot it around the cosmos with a gigantic motor.

MOONSHITTER! (4 Episodes) By Gerry Fudclotter: The Doctor lands on the Moon and discovers some hostile aliens called ‘Moonians’ plotting to attach a gigantic motor to the moon and pilot it around the cosmos for a bit until they get bored.

And of course:

‘THE INFINITY ROOMS’ (3 Episodes) by Norman Boilbugger: The Doctor lands on earth and discovers a plot to evict millions of council tenants from their homes by charging them extra if they have too many bedrooms.