Dr. Who and the Lazarus effect…

Yes I know – I haven’t blogged for a bit have I? Sorry, what with being in the final of The People’s Book Prize and putting on the play wot I wrote, I’ve been a bit busy.

No doubt I’ll blog about those two newsworthy events in the near future, but just to show that I’m not averse to cheating here’s one I prepared earlier and posted on the blog page that time forgot.

Just a few thoughts on the timelessness of social media. Normal saftness service will be resumed as soon as possible – so here as a booster shot is, ‘Doctor Who and the Lazarus effect….’

Cue intro music – Numa num num, numa num num, numa num num, numa num num, numa num num, numa num num, numa num num, numa num num, ooo wee ooo…

I’m afraid to tell you all that I have extremely bad news.fullsizeoutput_d9
Brace yourselves.

Thingummyjig is dead.

Yes, sorry to break it so bluntly.

Old Wotsisface.

Remember him crooning that old song?
What was it again?
No, I can’t remember now either, but still, eh..?
Tut!
Those were the days.
Didn’t he marry that old slapper; you tell me, what was her name?
Yeah, that’s the one.
I think!

Sorry?
No, I don’t know. Probably cancer. It usually is.
But he did rather live life to the full. Perhaps he just wore out.
Must be right though, I just saw it on Facebook.
Shame!

Really?
Are you sure?
Hang on, give me a minute. I’ll Google it.

You’re right, you know!
Two years ago according to Wikipedia.
Heart attack in a hotel bedroom following a night of kinky sex with a prostitute dressed as Tinky Winky.
Who knew.
I don’t think I’ve ever seen the Tellytubbies.

I mention this because I have this morning seen this happen. Not the Tinky Winky bit obviously, I made that up.
Although thinking about it…
I forget who it was exactly. And if you think I’m scrolling through all those posts of kittens being cute, children being sick and photoshopped cloud images looking like angels then please think again.
Obviously not someone as ‘big’ as Bowie, Prince or any of the rest of the ‘A’ list crew who have so sadly and publicly popped their clogs recently and had a whole evening of News at Ten devoted to their demise.
Let’s consider the case of Jimmy Ruffin, the guy who sang ‘What becomes of the broken-hearted,‘ played at the end of so many seventies disco’s, for two reasons. 1 – there is a very nice short story about him on my website, you might enjoy it after you’ve read this over at https://www.weebly.com/editor/main.php  and 2 – I remember that it did actually happen to the poor old sod.
Yes, poor Jimmy sadly passed away, no doubt mourned by many, only to rise like Lazarus a year or so later to go through the whole process again for the people who had been too busy to notice his passing at the first time of asking.
So, bereft and saddened we share and retweet for all we’re worth to our friends. They do the same until it triggers a memory in one bright spark who says, ‘hang on a minute, isn’t he dead already..!’
Strangely this knowledge of his passing back in the mists of time assuages our mourning instinct and we do feel a great deal better than had we gone through the process when it actually happened.

Hold up a bit.
What’s this now?
Your pussy has gone missing madam?
Someone’s knicked your car, sir?rascal-running
Does anyone know this bastard that has been filmed kicking his dog?
No, they’re not very good photographs are they, but hang on and I’ll see if I can find out.

Turns out that all that occurred some time back.

Apparently madam only wanted to do some heavy breathing as she called out the hunks from the local fire brigade. Her pussy was up a tree as it turned out and was rescued six months ago.
Sir’s car was recovered after being spotted floating down the canal. Apparently the lad who pinched it was the same bastard who kicked the poor dog. Well done to whoever posted that by the way, obviously it’s far better to film this stuff rather than intervene and prevent it in the first place. Fortunately scummy was recognised though and was given a very severe telling off indeed. I’m pleased to report that he is a reformed character and lives happily with his wife and six kids in a bedsit in Chipping Sodbury.

But here it is all over again, as fresh and as good as new. And people are sharing and tweeting and bending over backwards to help what has already been accomplished.

And that’s what technology has done for us. Time used to be linear.
One day followed another.
No longer.jamesl10It loops around on Facebook.It retweets itself on Twitter.
It replays endlessly on catchup T.V.

No wonder Doctor Who always looked so confused, skipping around in time like that.
Keeping up with who’s dead and alive is like trying to remember whether Jon Pertwee or Tom Baker had the assistant with the shortest skirt.

Be honest lads – it never was about Daleks really, was it!?

 

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Ashes to ashes, rock to funky…

Here we go again to celebrate my conversion to WordPress – what’s this, day four of re-blogging old blogs from the blogging platform that time forgot? Only six more days to go then – I set a limit of ten, you’ll be pleased to know!

This one is fairly recent, inspired by some innocuous comment in a newspaper back in March this year. Combine that with the sad demise of an international superstar and this is what you get – this is, Ashes to ashes, rock to funky…

In a blog back in May of last year, I reported live from Huston Space Centre that shortly we would all be off to Mars. If you remember I said that we would have to travel light, with no room for even a clean pair of pants. For my readers in the USA I guess that means undershorts or some such phrase – I thought you spoke English for heavens sake. No wonder Superman always wore his kit back to front! (Don’t want any bilingual mix ups here, remember when the French programmed that probe in kilometres rather than miles a few years back – yeah, the infamous SPLAT! shot, you got the one. As David Bowie may have commented, ‘I think my spaceship knows which way to go-oo.‘ But let’s face it if that lot the other side of the English Channel have anything to do with it, it won’t stop when it gets there! How embarrassing!

Spaceship

Oh, how we all laughed!
Parlez vous Francais? Oops, obviously not!
Cue mutterings of ‘merde,‘ and a lot of Gallic shrugging. (Incidentally and perhaps for discussion another time, if we get out of the EU do we get our measurements back?) And yes, thank you, I do know that there’s a funny squiggly thing under the ‘c’ in Francais, but I don’t know where it is on the keyboard, o.k! Besides, it’s only French, so who cares.
Anyway, I digress.
Who said, ‘as usual!‘ I can type and hear at the same time you know, it’s called multitasking!

But I fear that I may have inadvertently misled you good people and must apologise – and quickly, before you all rush to take your protein pills and put your helmets on. It appears that we are about to learn the answer to Mr. Bowie’s question very shortly – provided they haven’t invited the folks who sent them the Statue of Liberty to have another play on their computer.
new york statue libertyWhat do you mean, ‘Which question?

THE‘ question.
Is there life on Mars? of course.
And it appears that the answer to the poser on America’s tortured brow could after years of speculation to the contrary actually be – yes!
Not little green men you understand. Or even laughing gnomes for that matter. No, neither of those would pose a problem, the human race has a unique solution to tackling the tricky question of integrating with alternative societies – it’s called genocide. Or as near as dammit anyway. There are still a few Red Indians and Aborigines about, but not nearly enough to worry about.

What they think they’ve found up there (Or is it down? Do we really know which way round we are in the Universal scheme of things?) sloshing about the old Red planet is – water.

And what do you get with water?
Yes, mud I grant you, but not really the answer I was looking for.
O.k. own up. Who said, ‘Ice cream franchises?
No, now you’re not paying attention are you!
One of the most important, fundamental and significant discoveries ever.
O.k. if you want to, take a few minutes to mull it over.

You’re no closer to an answer really are you. Shall I let the cat out of the bag?
Life!
O.k. Perhaps it was a silly question, but I don’t think that you were really trying.
Oh no love, you’re not alone!’ The artist formerly known as David Jones again. Makes you think he may have known something all along. Sadly it’s too late to ask him now.
But, like I said earlier, it’s life but not as we know it. Cue Star Trek theme music. Thank you,Bones.
So what is it they think that they may find?
Bacteria.
What!
Yes, you heard correctly. Bacteria. Apparently the little blighters are quite partial to the dark and moist – no madam, I think you might find that’s a fungal infection but I know where you’re coming from, if you’ll pardon the expression. Try some Canesten! If that doesn’t work get someone to look into it for you.

The rest of you – stop sniggering!

Now I’ve seen the Actimel advertisements and am quite aware that there is such a thing as good bacteria.
But, be honest, there’s also some slightly nastier stuff about.
Call me cautious in the extreme but do we really want to go messing around up (or down) there to find out if it’s good stuff or bad stuff lurking about on the planet we named after a chocolate bar?
Now we know why poor old David’s starman didn’t make it back. Major Tom was strung out on Lemsip. Not so Hunky Dory after all.
I’ve had man-flu on and off now since Christmas. Believe me we have enough bacteria of our own to go around thank you very much.
Just imagine – all that extra snot! At least that explains the little green man theory.

Bogie men, obviously!

And let’s face it the media couldn’t give a fig – if Dave’s correct, and he has been so far, all the papers really want to know is whose shirts you’re wearing whilst you’re floating about in the vacuum of space.

So dear reader – when we have so much to sort out on our own poor benighted planet, lawmen beating up the wrong guy for example – do you really think we ought to go messing about with bugs from other rocks?

green alien in his space craft flying saucer clipart