So we were sitting in the Nun’s Head last night (Wednesday Thai night), and noticed that through one window (looking towards Scylla Rd) it was showering rain while out of the front windows (Nunhead Green) it was delightfully sunny. One son turned to the other and said “Glitch in the Matrix”.
Thursday, 12 July 2012
Saturday, 30 June 2012
Hitching in Bromley
As I've mentioned before, I first heard the first Hitchhiker when it was first broadcast on the radio, back in 1978.
And, old fart that I am, I still believe that first radio series was the best, and that the TV wasn't as interesting. Notoriously, and obviously, the pictures weren't as good on telly - but also they messed around with the plot and to my mind simplified it. And the books (which came in between) were the source for the TV version and shared many of the weaknesses of those shows.
Although, I know, lots of people liked the cartoon versions of the book on TV (and they were cartoons, not digital, back then), and DNA (Douglas Adams) liked the fact that in the books he could add back in a few lines that he'd written but which hadn't made it to the final broadcast on the radio, and he could also lose some John Lloyd-isms. So in that sense it was purer Adams - but for me at least it wasn't purer Hitchhiker.
I also heartily disliked the Book at Bedtime version of the Eoin Colfer continuation. And of course the most recent film was vile, despite being based on an Adams' script.
So I'm a bit fussy on this subject.
However, how could I resist an advert for "The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy Radio Show... Live!" at the Churchill theatre in Bromley. It had many of the original radio cast - that is:
Simon Jones as Arthur Dent
Geoffrey Mcgivern as Ford Prefect
Susan Sheridan as Trillian
Mark Wing-Davey as Zaphod Beeblebrox
and the voice of Stephen Moore as Marvin The Paranoid Android.
Each night the Book would be played by a different guest star. Like I said, how could I resist, even though there was typical confusion regarding the script to be followed (ie, it seemed to be the original radio series but the teaser video talks of it being based on the novels).
What a strange experience. A live band - who were quite good - with a light show. At one point they switched to playing the Dr Who theme music - which was allowed, I suppose as Adams did act as script editor for a while and wrote some episodes. A comfy chair for the Book (we had Andrew Sachs - Manuel to some of you) towards the right rear of the stage, a series of microsphones for the stars to perform the Radio show, and a live version of the BBC Radiophonic Workshop. In other words a couple of chaps doing the special effects on stage as the action developed. And very good they were too - I especially liked their renditions of the Pan Galactic Gargle Blaster and the falling (and landing) Whale.
The show really began when these two grey-haired old blokes tuned up.
Years ago we used to watch Live & Kicking on BBC on Saturday mornings with our (then) young sons, and I can remember Andi Peters and Emma Forbes beginning one show sitting with a very old, grey-haired, rumpled-looking man on the sofa. Quite unpreposessing. Andi explained to the kids that he was amazing, and that their parents would know who this man was as soon as he opened his mouth and said something. Which he promptly did. He said 'Good morning children,' or something like that, and not only was it immediately clear that he was Oliver Postgate, but I was transported back to Ivor the Engine and Noggin and Pogles and so forth.
Something very similar happened last night in Bromley. The two grey-haired blokes started talking and it was immediately obvious that they were Arthur Dent and Ford Prefect. Their voices were unchanged, I shut my eyes and it felt like the radio a long time ago. It was only at that point that I realised one of the old blokes was wearing a dressing gown.
And it worked. Finally a new version of H2G2 that I could warm to.
The first half was a cut down verion of the first four Fits, slightly altered and edited (and with some stuff from the books, but not too intrusive). the second half was a rather messy selection of good bits from the rest of the stories in a pretty arbitrary order. Which they recognised ('Arthur according to our records you seem to be missing several chapters from your life').
Toby Longworth was good as Slartibartfast, and the Vogons worked, too.
And Marvin was wonderful. A puppet Marvin, with an operator in black, based on old bits of radio and a tape recorder - with Stephen Moore doing the voice, what's not to love. Not the horrible Marvins from the TV and film, this one fitted in and worked!
OK, so they changed the name of the worst poet in the Universe for the obvious reason, I assume, and they referred to the 'Big Bang Burger Chef' rather than 'Bar', losing some of the aliteration to no discernible benefit. And Sachs struggled with the script occasionally (some reviews on the Web suggest that other Books were more into the Guide and did better).
But other innovations worked well. For example the extended scene with an increasingly frustrated Arthur trying to get a cup of tea out of a nutrimatic drink dispenser. And failing. And then the nutrimatic machine leading the audience in community singing - of "Share and Enjoy". The Crikkit song and Marvin's song also stood up - just about.
Mostly however what made the show was these weird old people, who for some obscure reason had these remembered and much-loved voices from over thirty years ago, and were happily sharing them with us.
It could have been some kind of rock-show retrospective - like how John Cleese described performing the Parrot Sketch on tour (first silence, and then applause (but few laughs)). But it didn't feel like that at all, and the audience laughed at many of the jokes (as well as mouthing them along with the performers).
Ah, the audience. You would expect a fair number of grey haired old fogies out there as well. And there were certainly some - with towels, and '42' and 'Don't talk to me about life' tee shirts, and dressing gowns. But gratifyingly, there seemed to be quite a lot of people of all ages there and enjoying themselves, including some quite young children.
Anyway - I was won over. Finally. By Hitchhiker (sort of) away from the radio.
Here is the teaser from Youtube.
And, old fart that I am, I still believe that first radio series was the best, and that the TV wasn't as interesting. Notoriously, and obviously, the pictures weren't as good on telly - but also they messed around with the plot and to my mind simplified it. And the books (which came in between) were the source for the TV version and shared many of the weaknesses of those shows.
Although, I know, lots of people liked the cartoon versions of the book on TV (and they were cartoons, not digital, back then), and DNA (Douglas Adams) liked the fact that in the books he could add back in a few lines that he'd written but which hadn't made it to the final broadcast on the radio, and he could also lose some John Lloyd-isms. So in that sense it was purer Adams - but for me at least it wasn't purer Hitchhiker.
I also heartily disliked the Book at Bedtime version of the Eoin Colfer continuation. And of course the most recent film was vile, despite being based on an Adams' script.
So I'm a bit fussy on this subject.
However, how could I resist an advert for "The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy Radio Show... Live!" at the Churchill theatre in Bromley. It had many of the original radio cast - that is:
Simon Jones as Arthur Dent
Geoffrey Mcgivern as Ford Prefect
Susan Sheridan as Trillian
Mark Wing-Davey as Zaphod Beeblebrox
and the voice of Stephen Moore as Marvin The Paranoid Android.
Each night the Book would be played by a different guest star. Like I said, how could I resist, even though there was typical confusion regarding the script to be followed (ie, it seemed to be the original radio series but the teaser video talks of it being based on the novels).
What a strange experience. A live band - who were quite good - with a light show. At one point they switched to playing the Dr Who theme music - which was allowed, I suppose as Adams did act as script editor for a while and wrote some episodes. A comfy chair for the Book (we had Andrew Sachs - Manuel to some of you) towards the right rear of the stage, a series of microsphones for the stars to perform the Radio show, and a live version of the BBC Radiophonic Workshop. In other words a couple of chaps doing the special effects on stage as the action developed. And very good they were too - I especially liked their renditions of the Pan Galactic Gargle Blaster and the falling (and landing) Whale.
The show really began when these two grey-haired old blokes tuned up.
Years ago we used to watch Live & Kicking on BBC on Saturday mornings with our (then) young sons, and I can remember Andi Peters and Emma Forbes beginning one show sitting with a very old, grey-haired, rumpled-looking man on the sofa. Quite unpreposessing. Andi explained to the kids that he was amazing, and that their parents would know who this man was as soon as he opened his mouth and said something. Which he promptly did. He said 'Good morning children,' or something like that, and not only was it immediately clear that he was Oliver Postgate, but I was transported back to Ivor the Engine and Noggin and Pogles and so forth.
Something very similar happened last night in Bromley. The two grey-haired blokes started talking and it was immediately obvious that they were Arthur Dent and Ford Prefect. Their voices were unchanged, I shut my eyes and it felt like the radio a long time ago. It was only at that point that I realised one of the old blokes was wearing a dressing gown.
And it worked. Finally a new version of H2G2 that I could warm to.
The first half was a cut down verion of the first four Fits, slightly altered and edited (and with some stuff from the books, but not too intrusive). the second half was a rather messy selection of good bits from the rest of the stories in a pretty arbitrary order. Which they recognised ('Arthur according to our records you seem to be missing several chapters from your life').
Toby Longworth was good as Slartibartfast, and the Vogons worked, too.
And Marvin was wonderful. A puppet Marvin, with an operator in black, based on old bits of radio and a tape recorder - with Stephen Moore doing the voice, what's not to love. Not the horrible Marvins from the TV and film, this one fitted in and worked!
OK, so they changed the name of the worst poet in the Universe for the obvious reason, I assume, and they referred to the 'Big Bang Burger Chef' rather than 'Bar', losing some of the aliteration to no discernible benefit. And Sachs struggled with the script occasionally (some reviews on the Web suggest that other Books were more into the Guide and did better).
But other innovations worked well. For example the extended scene with an increasingly frustrated Arthur trying to get a cup of tea out of a nutrimatic drink dispenser. And failing. And then the nutrimatic machine leading the audience in community singing - of "Share and Enjoy". The Crikkit song and Marvin's song also stood up - just about.
Mostly however what made the show was these weird old people, who for some obscure reason had these remembered and much-loved voices from over thirty years ago, and were happily sharing them with us.
It could have been some kind of rock-show retrospective - like how John Cleese described performing the Parrot Sketch on tour (first silence, and then applause (but few laughs)). But it didn't feel like that at all, and the audience laughed at many of the jokes (as well as mouthing them along with the performers).
Ah, the audience. You would expect a fair number of grey haired old fogies out there as well. And there were certainly some - with towels, and '42' and 'Don't talk to me about life' tee shirts, and dressing gowns. But gratifyingly, there seemed to be quite a lot of people of all ages there and enjoying themselves, including some quite young children.
Anyway - I was won over. Finally. By Hitchhiker (sort of) away from the radio.
Here is the teaser from Youtube.
Sunday, 24 June 2012
Poem of the Week
Easter, 1916
W B Yeats
I have met them at close of day
Coming with vivid faces
From counter or desk among grey
Eighteenth-century houses.
I have passed with a nod of the head
Or polite meaningless words,
Or have lingered awhile and said
Polite meaningless words,
And thought before I had done
Of a mocking tale or a gibe
To please a companion
Around the fire at the club,
Being certain that they and I
But lived where motley is worn:
All changed, changed utterly:
A terrible beauty is born.
That woman's days were spent
In ignorant good-will,
Her nights in argument
Until her voice grew shrill.
What voice more sweet than hers
When, young and beautiful,
She rode to harriers?
This man had kept a school
And rode our winged horse;
This other his helper and friend
Was coming into his force;
He might have won fame in the end,
So sensitive his nature seemed,
So daring and sweet his thought.
This other man I had dreamed
A drunken, vainglorious lout.
He had done most bitter wrong
To some who are near my heart,
Yet I number him in the song;
He, too, has resigned his part
In the casual comedy;
He, too, has been changed in his turn,
Transformed utterly:
A terrible beauty is born.
Hearts with one purpose alone
Through summer and winter seem
Enchanted to a stone
To trouble the living stream.
The horse that comes from the road.
The rider, the birds that range
From cloud to tumbling cloud,
Minute by minute they change;
A shadow of cloud on the stream
Changes minute by minute;
A horse-hoof slides on the brim,
And a horse plashes within it;
The long-legged moor-hens dive,
And hens to moor-cocks call;
Minute by minute they live:
The stone's in the midst of all.
Too long a sacrifice
Can make a stone of the heart.
O when may it suffice?
That is Heaven's part, our part
To murmur name upon name,
As a mother names her child
When sleep at last has come
On limbs that had run wild.
What is it but nightfall?
No, no, not night but death;
Was it needless death after all?
For England may keep faith
For all that is done and said.
We know their dream; enough
To know they dreamed and are dead;
And what if excess of love
Bewildered them till they died?
I write it out in a verse -
MacDonagh and MacBride
And Connolly and pearse
Now and in time to be,
Wherever green is worn,
Are changed, changed utterly:
A terrible beauty is born.
W B Yeats
I have met them at close of day
Coming with vivid faces
From counter or desk among grey
Eighteenth-century houses.
I have passed with a nod of the head
Or polite meaningless words,
Or have lingered awhile and said
Polite meaningless words,
And thought before I had done
Of a mocking tale or a gibe
To please a companion
Around the fire at the club,
Being certain that they and I
But lived where motley is worn:
All changed, changed utterly:
A terrible beauty is born.
That woman's days were spent
In ignorant good-will,
Her nights in argument
Until her voice grew shrill.
What voice more sweet than hers
When, young and beautiful,
She rode to harriers?
This man had kept a school
And rode our winged horse;
This other his helper and friend
Was coming into his force;
He might have won fame in the end,
So sensitive his nature seemed,
So daring and sweet his thought.
This other man I had dreamed
A drunken, vainglorious lout.
He had done most bitter wrong
To some who are near my heart,
Yet I number him in the song;
He, too, has resigned his part
In the casual comedy;
He, too, has been changed in his turn,
Transformed utterly:
A terrible beauty is born.
Hearts with one purpose alone
Through summer and winter seem
Enchanted to a stone
To trouble the living stream.
The horse that comes from the road.
The rider, the birds that range
From cloud to tumbling cloud,
Minute by minute they change;
A shadow of cloud on the stream
Changes minute by minute;
A horse-hoof slides on the brim,
And a horse plashes within it;
The long-legged moor-hens dive,
And hens to moor-cocks call;
Minute by minute they live:
The stone's in the midst of all.
Too long a sacrifice
Can make a stone of the heart.
O when may it suffice?
That is Heaven's part, our part
To murmur name upon name,
As a mother names her child
When sleep at last has come
On limbs that had run wild.
What is it but nightfall?
No, no, not night but death;
Was it needless death after all?
For England may keep faith
For all that is done and said.
We know their dream; enough
To know they dreamed and are dead;
And what if excess of love
Bewildered them till they died?
I write it out in a verse -
MacDonagh and MacBride
And Connolly and pearse
Now and in time to be,
Wherever green is worn,
Are changed, changed utterly:
A terrible beauty is born.
Starbucks, South Mimms
So when the barrista asked if I wanted my name on the cup, I had to be a smartarse...
Friday, 22 June 2012
The Pubs Around Nunhead 21 - The Rye
And now, as promised, The Rye.
No longer The Rye Hotel, please note - not that it was a hotel for some time beforehand, so far as I could see. As previously described it is mentioned in The Ballad of Peckham Rye, which may be its most significant claim to fame.
The newly (re-)opened The Rye smells of paint, and someone has spent significant sums in remodelling the place. Physically, the old L-shaped bar has been knocked through, so now there is a central island bar (retaining some of the old woodwork and the clock) with seats all around. The kitchen and loos have been moved and the entrance to the (still huge) garden at the rear changed and opened out.
It does feel more open and airy - lots of white walls and varied seating - some more comfortable than others. The kitchen seems large and they are obviously pushing the menu, while the bar drink prices seemed cheapish, at least for the present.
It does currently feel very, very new, and somewhat soulless. The smell of new paint and clean walls are part of that, plus the new awnings and lighting. It still needs to develop a character.
It is also true that the staff are still feeling their way. The chap who served me couldn't be sure about the wine they had available, then he discovered he couldn't log in to the cash terminal. Lots of 'how do I...' questions shouted around.
And there were an awful lot of staff there when I called in (around 5pm-ish a couple of days ago, a weekday in sunny weather). Five in chef's full fig in the kitchens, plus another 5 or 6 behind the bar at various times. Maybe they were expecting crowds later, or it was a training day. Certainly there were few customers around.
And did I mention, it smells of paint?
The old Rye Hotel (I don't mean the temporary MeatWagon incarnation, which was always transitional, but the previous management) was indeed very far from perfect. Eg staff did occasionally get bullied and let go for no good reason, and there were issues around stock sometimes. But it had character. It had live music (sometimes) and events. The new The Rye will have to build that all afresh.
TANH will, of course, continue to monitor the situation in a hands-on kind of way.
No longer The Rye Hotel, please note - not that it was a hotel for some time beforehand, so far as I could see. As previously described it is mentioned in The Ballad of Peckham Rye, which may be its most significant claim to fame.
The newly (re-)opened The Rye smells of paint, and someone has spent significant sums in remodelling the place. Physically, the old L-shaped bar has been knocked through, so now there is a central island bar (retaining some of the old woodwork and the clock) with seats all around. The kitchen and loos have been moved and the entrance to the (still huge) garden at the rear changed and opened out.
It does feel more open and airy - lots of white walls and varied seating - some more comfortable than others. The kitchen seems large and they are obviously pushing the menu, while the bar drink prices seemed cheapish, at least for the present.
It does currently feel very, very new, and somewhat soulless. The smell of new paint and clean walls are part of that, plus the new awnings and lighting. It still needs to develop a character.
It is also true that the staff are still feeling their way. The chap who served me couldn't be sure about the wine they had available, then he discovered he couldn't log in to the cash terminal. Lots of 'how do I...' questions shouted around.
And there were an awful lot of staff there when I called in (around 5pm-ish a couple of days ago, a weekday in sunny weather). Five in chef's full fig in the kitchens, plus another 5 or 6 behind the bar at various times. Maybe they were expecting crowds later, or it was a training day. Certainly there were few customers around.
And did I mention, it smells of paint?
The old Rye Hotel (I don't mean the temporary MeatWagon incarnation, which was always transitional, but the previous management) was indeed very far from perfect. Eg staff did occasionally get bullied and let go for no good reason, and there were issues around stock sometimes. But it had character. It had live music (sometimes) and events. The new The Rye will have to build that all afresh.
TANH will, of course, continue to monitor the situation in a hands-on kind of way.
Secure Delivery
Our Olympic tickets were delivered today. Lots of security - texts, official van, signature, etc. Much more secure, it seems, than the delivery of my new passport last year.
Still I haven't checked they are the right ones yet.
Still I haven't checked they are the right ones yet.
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