Like a Horse and Carriage, Apparently.

Boys Together
Originally uploaded by Brainless Angel.

It was a bright and jolly Saturday in Shropshire, when, suddenly and terribly, divers hordes of miscreants and ne'er-do-wells descended upon the peaceful lawns of Ellesmere College, their crass, chaotic hearts set on the union of two of their disreputable number into a state of wedlock. Such ill-deserved bliss may hardly seem a just fate for such lowly creatures; and yet, their designs were accomodated, in the hope that the hallowed halls so cruelly misused should be free of their curse most promptly.

And so the deed was done, and the legions of darkness receeded, and at the end of it all, Nen Trussler had duly become Mrs. Phil Simmons, to various acclaim and much rejoicing. May fate have mercy on them all.

Hanna Barbera of Judgement

One of the most persistent mondegreens¹ plaguing me since childhood has been a lyric in the impossibly camp theme tune to Godzilla, in his Hanna Barbera cartoon incarnation. Yes, that's the one featuring the unmentionable comic relief baby dinosaur, who only gets an easy time of it from cartoon purists thanks to the existence of Scrappy Doo.

Never having taped an episode, I never got the opportunity to replay the offending lyric endlessly until its true meaning resolved itself. My 25-yr-old memory of the song is;

"Up from the depths,
Thirty storeys high,
Breathing fire,
HE STANDS in the sky,
God-zil-la!!!"

"Stands in the sky"? Actually it sounded more like STAND, but that would be even more daft.

All praise the internet, for it is from these bountious streams that all wisdom can be drunk. I just downloaded an episode of this long-forgotten series, and it only took a few loops to ascertain the pure and lovely truth;

"Up from the depths,
Thirty storeys high,
Breathing fire,
HIS HEAD in the sky
God-zil-la!!!"

There, now it makes sense. Quarter of a century of wondering ended at the stroke of a mouse. Some people think the internet is a bad thing. What do I think? I think I wish I could get John Hurt's gig for a tenth of the money, mostly...



¹ Look it up...

Barsoom or Bust

Nasa names new spacecraft 'Orion'

This kind of thing really should get my heart racing. That it doesn't anymore is a problem that I hereby commit to spending a while pondering.

I suppose it might be the deflating effect of phrases like "no later than 2020" - I mean, it's hard to get too excited when you're busy choosing cardigans. Let's leave aside all the negativity aroused by the memory that Apollo got to Tranquility in 8 years, from a standing start. Let's be enthusiastic, and imagine raising a glass of something sweet to the intrepid explorers of Orion IX; Kyle Edmond, Logan Roberts and Josh Moffat; as their Ares V rocket lights up the skies of Florida on its way to an historic touchdown at Utopia Planitia.

"Not poems and rubbish; SCIENCE!"

Lime Wedges and Cutting Edges

Spent the weekend in Swindon with H plus Alan and Telsa - Woz constructed a smoke-a-Q of the usual sublime proportions, and far too many Margueritas went down far too few necks.

When other folks make a donation to my computer collection, it's usually a knackered Spectrum or a fire-blackened BBC micro. But Woz hasn't been other folks for ages, so I get a P4 2.4GHz with 768Mb of RAM and a GeForce 4 128Mb video card. That's about a six-year upgrade, in case you're wondering. I haven't been this near Now since the ZX-81.

LIDL's potato salad is cheap again. Mmmtbrrmf...

Taking the Proverbial?

Found beside a Cardiff road. The Welsh translates as "Bladder disease has returned"; apparently the software used by the relevant department was fed the word "cystitis" rather than "cyclist"!

You couldn't make this up...

As to who the guy holding the Geiriadur Mawr is - er, we'll get back to you on that one...

David Bailey? Who's 'e?

Having finally come out of denial, and accepted that my beloved Olympus Trip 35 is simply never going to turn up under a pair of knickers, I hopped onto eBay to scratch the itch. Had I realised it would only cost me a tenner, I would have done so a lot sooner...

The picture shown is one of the best I ever took with the old Trip, and shows the right 'orrible Lord Percival of Ware in his pomp, practising his one-man act in Fitzrovia, with his treasured (and possibly unique) Rob-Shearman-a-like ventriloquist's dummy.

Now to set traps for the postman, and find a cheap black & white processing service. Much jocular clickage will doubtless result, to which end, keep watching.

Continas & Corsairs (no Cortinas, though)

While searching for something prosaic and un-blogworthy at Stradling Castle, I have unearthed one of my Grandfather's old cameras, a Zeiss Ikon Contina. What a jolly little thing! Tit-all use without a light-meter, of course, but that didn't stop me jaunting into the park and snapping a few colourful things while simply guessing the light-level. What I really want to see is if oldy-worldy cameras take oldy-worldy-looking photos, which my brain seems to expect, despite the obvious problems of fundamental logic. So if I end up wth any shots of Alexandra Park in the late 1950s, I'll post them here for your amazement.

Game of the Moment is "Pirates of the Carribean: Dead Man's Chest" on the GameBoy Advance, which is very pretty, has music which actually doesn't force you to mute it within five minutes, and combines platfrom action and quest / character building in a neat, kid-friendly, just-one-more-level kind of a way. Shiver me timbers, yo ho ho, and whatnot...

Hats and Chickens

Nashfyl, isn't it?
Originally uploaded by Brainless Angel.

Did you know that a Lloyd's No1 Bar Sunday roast gets you nearly a whole chicken? Me neither. Burp!

Anyway, The Big Weekend has wrapped up cosily enough with a comeback performance from Our Lady of Song, Cerys Matthews (see pic). Before that, we were treated to a thorough ear-bashing from The Stereo MCs, a bit of Celtic twang with Foy Vance, and a whole lotta shakin' (or something like that) from Tex-Mex combo Los Pacaminos, whose frankly gobsmacking gimmick is that one of them is Paul Young; yes, the Paul Young, 80s smoochmeister and pin-up boy. He duly layed down his (ten-gallon) hat with the common people, got us shakin' our booties - despite ourselves, mostly - and left to ringing Welsh cheers. Top chap.

Selected Wave Alarms

Spirit of '76
Originally uploaded by Brainless Angel.

Golly, what fun!

One night survived, as evidenced by the photo. Welshmen certainly know how to grow old disgracefully. I am inspired...

Bloomin' 'eck, Katrina looks old... Still got it, though, as she proved by jumping about far more than I cared to. Silly tart.

if(weekend) { fun.fun.fun }

Right-ho, we're off to the Cardiff Big Weekend

Well, not "off" as such, 'cos it's here and all, but I'm about to leave the house with a bag full of tortilla wraps and Pepsi Max Cino and meet the beloved, from whence we shall plonk chairs on the City Hall green and watch The Selecter, Katrina (minus Waves) and The Alarm, all for no pence, which is good.

I might even let Hev have a go on the rides if (i) she's very good and (ii) she can afford it :-)

Reports to follow...

Doorstop time...

So, farewell, then,
Apple Powerbook 3400c
Your green LED
Worked
But you were too heavy
To use
As a torch

Return, now,
To the piles of crap in the corner
'Cos as usual I
Won't throw you away
Just 'cos you're
Rubbish.