The debonair Basil Marigold's

One of the things I will, invariably, do over the christmas holiday is to take note of the yearly Obituaries. This year is no different. The list are usually, listed as, 'Notable People', because, obviously, un-notable people die too! I suppose I prefer the term, 'notable', to 'Celebrity'. Notable is a far more acceptable term to me, as it implies, a person of note, who has achieved something of worth. Celebrity, tends to be a description of someone, who is both vacuous & dead behind the eyes. However, this year, I have just read my first one on the BBC website. And as always happens, I come across one person that I look at, and think, No, surely not. Please, no.  This year; Nigel Terry. Here follows, great shouts of...Nigel who?? (And then tell yourself off, for not knowing who he was!). If, as I happen to be, you are into the rich and wonderful myths that this country has produced since the dark ages then you will know, King Arthur. I think of all th...

When I was fairly young, Perhaps a couple of years older than my eldest daughter who is now 6. There was a programme on the BBC which was made into 6 parts and was created for children's Televison, during the christmas period IN 1984 (It ran up to Christmas eve). It was called, 'The Box of delights'. It must be remembered this was created when the BBC produced programmes that hadn't been dumb down for the audience. This story was adapted from the books by, John Masefield, whom from 1930 to 1967 was the Poet Laureate . It is a sequel to the first book, the Midnight Folk, which contained a lot of the same characters. The Box of delights was chosen to be adapted. As an 8 year old it was a stunning experience. The story was a little bit scary at times, exciting and for the time the graphics seemed quite advanced (though 30 years later you see how far we've moved on), but it has been forever burnt into my mind as something that happens at Christmas. The advent (geddit?) ...

I looked with horror at the date of the last post, January 2015. Almost 12 months have passed and I have written nothing here. I used to write fairly regularly and I enjoyed it also. At times it was very therapeutic and I attempted to make it at least a little witty, if possible. A struggle for some, any, creative muse to strike me has been a little part, of the whole, of not contributing here as much as previously.  Sometimes, I have a wish to speak but have no way of saying it; a total blank. There is a book called, 'I have no mouth. And I must scream'. It is, science fiction. A disturbing portrayal of a dystopian future - I recommend it. The title however, has always stuck fast in my mind. I have found myself this year (and to a lesser extent, last year), feeling this sentiment. Ideas and thoughts never stop but the inability to translate them from thought, to a solid narrative, is a horrible feeling. A disconnect from what goes in, having no way, in which, to come out. If...

I am now only 4 novels away from concluding the 2nd Agatha Christie challenge; Reading in chronological order the Mrs Marple book's. Four away. I have to be honest I have at times very much so struggled with the character of mrs Marple. Having the previous year read the entire canon of, Hercule Poirot (33 books in just about 7 months). Mrs Marple is not as engaging or as interesting as my little egg shaped head Belgian detective, by a country mile, in my opinion. She is also at times, somewhat dislikable in character, which struck me as odd and unexpected. This is not to say that the plot and twist are any less impressive than the, Poirot novels, as they aren't. They can be wonderful. For example, 'the 4.50 from paddington' was a great example of what Christie does best. It's probably one of my favourite books, if only, Poirot, was investigating the case. I would say that, Jane Marple is a shadow to Hercule Poirot. Maybe it is the exotic travelling and mobilit...

They became dinosaurs way before I had ever heard of them, or their music. I was about 14/15 and had stayed up late one night and flicking across TV channels, at the time, there was only the 4! I caught a film mid way through and in the scene a train flashes past a young boy stood in a darkened tunnel, the faces that look out to him from the train are deformed by pig like masks they then walk into a meat grinder and animated out of the other end and behind all this weirdness, and slightly discomforting video, was up to that point the greatest sound I had ever heard. It turned out to be, The Pink Floyd (rock dinosaurs, in 1990!) As I then spent the next hour watching the ever more disturbed evolution of, Bob Geldof, as 'Pink' descendin from a rock star to fascist leader as a metaphor for madness. I was hooked, instantly and needed to  find out more about Pink Floyd. I rememeber  the following day telling my best friend at school about this most disturbing of films. His st...

I am a terrible music snob. No, really. I am. This surprises you doesn't? It shouldn't. I think my passion for music, is perhaps higher than that for books, I think. Yet, even I can make mistakes and so it seems I have of late. I am sure I have blind spots in my musical knowledge; For instance, should you wish to consult an expert in Icelandic death metal, then this would not be me. Would you like to discuss the impact of the music of the 'Carpenters', then again, move on. You can probably also add to this whatever the DJ's (if this is what they are still called on R1), are playing on this station. I imagine it is some form of manifestation of what a migraine is, set to music. So. The, 'Joy Division' then. Perhaps the first band in the history of music to name themselves after the prostitution wing of a concentration camp. Which if not defining them as a band that wanted to challenge preconceptions then I am not sure exactly what else they could have done,...

His name was, Riccardo. He sat in front of me at the Kate Bush concert. I know his name because he seemed intent on introducing himself to both the women sitting on either side of him. He was American, he was gregarious.  After he had sat down and spoken to the women next to him for about 10 minutes I now knew that this was his second night at the concert & he was, the following day, travelling to Italy to spend time with someone he met on his holidays who had invited him to his Italian farm if he should ever find himself in Italy. First clue, Riccardo. When people say to you, 'Oh, whenever you are next over in a country 4000 miles away from your home, you must come to mine and we shall spent some time together'. THIS IS NOT TRUE. it means the opposite. Translated, it actually means. 'If you ever somehow find your way across 4000 miles of world, away from your home. Never, ever darken my door. I am saying this just to be polite knowing that 4000 miles is quite a ...