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Is there anyone who doesn’t know who Luke’s father is?

You would have thought that after 30 years, finding people who had never seen Star Wars would be nigh on impossible. Especially people who ostensibly worked in the media.

But no, it’s not impossible. The BBC’s entertainment reporter Kevin Young claims to have never seen Star Wars – or any science-fiction save The X-Files, for that matter. This I find a tad impossible!

Surely if you have even an inkling of an interest in entertainment or pop culture, then you must at least have an inkling of science-fiction and what it is. And surely in thirty years Star Wars cannot have completely passed you by. That would be impossible. I submit, sirrah, that the BBC has lied to us!

But more importantly, the BBC sits him down to watch Star Wars for the very first time (awooo… awooo….). And some of the quotes he comes out with while watching Star Wars must mean that he’s completely being ironic and taking the piss. Such as:

“Luke seems quite taken by this holographic vision in blue and wants to know more about her. I have a sneaking suspicion that they might end up as this film’s golden couple, but there’s still an hour and 38 minutes to go yet.”

“It’s a light-saber. It looks cool. I wonder how it works, though – does its laser burn enemy combatants or does it shoot some kind of fatal beam?”

“Important plot twist here, I predict – Darth killed Luke’s dad.”

There is just no way one can be an entertainment reporter and not have picked up on what a light sabre does, and who Luke’s father is. It’s just impossible, surely?

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Someone’s taken the comedy out of Comic Relief

I’ve been watching a lot of Comic Relief programming this week. Forgive me if this sounds as if I’m sat on my sofa with a blanket wrapped around my lap smoking a pipe and shaking my cane at the teen tearaways across the road – but it all seems a bit too slick these days. And (whisper) not actually that funny.

When the only comedy moment out of the incredibly unfunny and dull Comic Relief single, Comic Relief does the Apprentice and Comic Relief does Fame Academy is musing on what Tara Palmer-Tomkinson was on when she was sweating profusely, one has to realise someone’s taken the comedy out of Comic Relief. Which rather defeats the “unique” spin on what is essentially a telethon. Shame, really.

Still, I’ll be tuning in tonight, making the odd donation, looking at pictures of a man who painted himself red and buying Shaggy Blog Stories, essentially a book collection of 100 funny stories from around the UK blogosphere with proceeds going to Comic Relief. I really should have offered one of my oh-so-hilarious anecdotes but I’ve only just noticed.

Shame the-powers-that-be behind Comic Relief haven’t tried to capture the UK blogosphere in the same way – there’s not even a banner you can splash on your webpage.

Why do I have a particular interest in this? It was central to one of my favourite nights at work some eight years ago, when I was behind the scenes on the web coverage for Comic Relief:

- “blogging” from behind the scenes via live web updates, in the days when blogging and broadband barely crossed the lips of even a savvy web developer (whither blog this year, web chaps?)
- encoding and uploading Doctor Who videos in full Quicktime quality live as soon as they’d been transmitted
- hanging out in the infamous BBC canteen and marvelling at how big Dawn French actually is (the camera took away pounds with her then!)
- helping out on the Comic Relief webchats
- watching the frantic goings-on behind the scenes, and realising they weren’t that frantic
- marvelling at my boss’s then new-fangled hands-free thing for his mobile phone, thinking what a prat he looked in them, and how they’d never ever catch on
- being so tired and irritated (at what, I have no idea now!) at the end I didn’t go to the wrap-up party. One of those decisions I shall regret forever.

I really wish I’d done some screencaps.

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Six weeks of lessons…

and this is what Miss R and I have ended up doing. Honest. ;-)

Read the rest of this entry »

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“you think I’m unemotional … I cried at the end of Terminator 2!”

I have been caught massively enthusing about the genius that is Spaced – the finest sitcom a pop-culture/nerdy obsessed person could ever possibly hope to have. Complete with strong characters all round. It’s so hip it hurts…

Anyway, skip to the end – and some kind soul has put up the first episode of Spaced online on Google Video. So here it is: watch it!

Then buy Spaced: The Collectors Edition from your friendly Amazon UK dealer.

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Succumbing to Big Brother…

Ever since I had to spend the summer of 2000 avidly watching and writing about Big Brother 1 (the one with Anna the lesbian nun, Nick the evil Brit and Craig the dumb-but-handsome plumber) for work purposes (oh that glamorous summer), I’ve mostly avoided Big Brother. Especially since it stopped becoming a vaguely interesting look at a cross-section of the British population and became a freak show.

However, this year, interest seems to have really peaked all around me. People keep sneaking into the office with the big TV to watch Big Brother 2006 – because there are two Welsh-language-speaking contestants on it. Although the Welsh gossip network has already informed me that Glyn is actually a nice, quiet and shy boy in real life – then again, I’m not too sure flamboyance would do you much good in Blaenau Ffestiniog.

In a hugely controversial move (well, controversial if you’re in Wales – the rest of the UK couldn’t give a monkeys I’d imagine), Big Brother stopped the two of them from speaking in Welsh (their natural language) to each other.

So there was I, quietly shaking my head at people trooping in and out of the big TV-office just because there happened to be two Welsh-language-speakers on Big Brother. While secretly hating Lea – a former 22-stone woman who’s had multiple plastic surgery, apparently has the biggest boobs in the UK and says she hates fat people.

Then I get home for the weekend, where my sisters gleefully inform me that, of all things, a British-Chinese woman is a Big Brother contestant.

Bloody hell. Now this is progress. I’ve got no idea what she’s like – whether she’s a future Jane Goodey or a future Anna, but by Jove I’ll have to follow her progress, and probably vote for her to stay each time. If I ever find the time. 14 days till I have to move all my worldly belongings into a storage room and a front room!

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Me and Tom Cruise…

Sorry if you’ve been slaverishly logging on every day begging for the latest details on me and Tom Cruise. Your prayers have now been answered, and I shall tell the oh-so-glam story.

Strolling past Leicester Square, I noticed all the tell-tale paraphenalia that a London movie premiere in progress. And given all the satellite trucks, crowds and lights, I presumed it was a big one. Then I saw the billboard for Mission: Impossible 3 and snorted at all the attention being given in the hope that Tom Cruise might turn up – when, as far as I knew, he was (or should have been) back at home looking after little Katie/Kate and Suri.

But as I got closer, I got an inkling that all was not normal for a movie premiere. One side of the Odeon cinema was completely blocked off with a temporary wall – in front of which was a huge monitor relaying footage from a camera on a boom – a lot of effort for a premiere where the stars weren’t going to turn up. The other side of the cinema was blocked off by various gawkers, photographers, stern policemen and security cameras.

Then just when I was getting bored at looking at people looking at TV screens waiting for something to happen, there was a huge uproar from the crowd. Tom Cruise had emerged from the cinema to do his walkabout thang.

Seeing as I know Leicester Square remarkably well, I managed to go through some back alleys, evade the police and security guards and ended up just behind the press cordon, and face to face with ol’ Tommo himself. Unfortunately, he was looking at a bunch of interviewers and patiently asking questions.

Whatever else you say about his insane antics, you have to respect the ability of a short man to concentrate on what’s in front of him when everyone is shouting and throwing things at him in a desperate attempt to grab his attention. Not to mention all the flashbulbs going off left, right and centre.

He looked suspiciously hyper and awake for someone who’s a new dad though…

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The Young Ones … shouldn’t be afwaid…

Ahhh The Young Ones. That “classic” British TV sitcom about four young students which inspired me to create one of my first websites and FAQ back in 1994. 12 years ago. *gulp*

That website got me to where I am today. Lying in the gutter looking at the Star Bar and dreaming of a time when I was namechecked by Microsoft, Yahoo, Future Publishing and it got my foot in the door at the BBC. Amazing how I still, to this day, get the odd £10/US$50 voucher for sending people to amazon to buy the videos. It probably made more money than most of my dotcom employers in the late 90s.

The Young Ones was the Trojan Horse that allowed alternative comedy to sneak into British television sitcom land, and television comedy was never the same again. Indeed, one can argue that The Young Ones started the process by which traditional sitcoms have now apparently been killed off.

Ironic really, that when you watch The Young Ones again 22 years (!) on, it’s *so* horribly dated in a way that even older sitcoms (eg Fawlty Towers) just hasn’t.

Anyway, that short quick trip down memory lane was just an excuse to link to these video clips – one from the show itself:

[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MjJYCOmt0dQ]

An advert for the Young Ones computer game from the mid-80s. The graphics are amazing, the voiceover is an astoundingly bad impersonation of “Vyvyan” – and I still have no idea what you do in the game.

[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=smNbgYPtxMg]

UPDATE: You can download the game, although you will still need a handy Commodore 64 emulator to get it to run on your PC. and there’s a walkthrough on how to play the game – although on the C64 version, there’s a bug which means you can’t win as Rik. That’s what you get for voting Tory.

On with the video clips. This is an MTV commercial for the accompanying album Neil’s Heavy Concept Album. A horrible mash-up of oh-so-British nostalgia and heavy American selling techniques.

[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KeS-vxpPg6Y]

(Found via screenhead.com)

And finally,

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“Dip me in chocolate and throw me to the lesbians”

I’m sure that phrase has been around since, like, forever, man. Certainly I’ve seen T-shirts with that phrase on various London dodgy stalls for at least five years.

But it turns out that not everyone knows it. Strange Cousin Susan has only just discovered it, and is using it with great gusto in her workplace. Which is in California – a place, I’d have thought, which would have discovered it a long time ago.

The only source I can find for said quote is from Jerry Springer: The Opera but it must have come from someone else before then. Surely? Any ideas?

Aside from anything else, why lesbians? Wouldn’t the phrase work just as well if it was “Dip me in chocolate and throw me to the chocolate nymphomaniacs”? I’m not particularly aware of any chocolate fetish amongst lesbians – at least, no more so than your average woman…

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Cox – be gone from my breakfast!

Hurrah! After BBC Radio 1’s plunging listening figures, I ranted about how terrible Sara Cox is as a DJ and why she should desist from broadcasting.

Patently, BBC Radio One listen to me and while she has not been banished to somewhere appropriate like CBBC, she is leaving the Radio 1 breakfast show. To be replaced by Chris Moyles, who is also quite shouty, ranty and way too laddish (just when laddism is beginning to die) but at least he’s understandable and is less “trendy”. Hurrah.

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