It's Down to th'Wire - Noooooooooooo CHAIR!!!!

Here's a bit of a competition fo' y'all.

Readers: Woo-woo! What are th'prizes?

Prizes? Were you born yesterday or what.

Anyhows, the point of this here Competition is to decide who done the best "Green Green Grass of Home".

#1~ Could it be ~ your starter for 10 ~ George Jones --- or Jerry Lee Lewis?



Hokay. If you picked Jerry Lee Lewis then your concept of a "musical instrument" must be pohaps a lift (American: elevator) or a mall (British: shopping centre). Clue: neither of these are a musical instrument. Well they weren't in my day.




Couple of textual subtleties before I feed you the raw meat...

"The old home place is still standing though the paint is cracked and dry" - but maybe only in the protagonist's imagination? Discuss.

"For there's a guard and there's a sad old padre with arm in arm will walk |at daybreak" - you were wanting to hear "|beside me" to rhyme with "padre"? Deny.




On with the Competition...

#2~ Great guitar-picker, but where is Chet Atkins going with this?


#3 Porter Waggoner - love the mellophones or whatever they are:


#4 Boris Godunov (no, not that Борис Годунов) and his "set old badre", and then the Sov U went and folded and all. Shit.


#5 Elvis. Wellll... bit like Frank Sinatra singing "Diamond Dogs" but there y'go.






Let's take a quick break from this exciting competition to consider a few Facts:

1) Soup does not figure in any ancient text or mythology, and it was not a factor in the Renaissance: it is largely a modern or post-industrial concept.

2) The bite of Conscience, or 'agenbite of inwit' -as imagined by some Medieval thinkers - has proved not to be a 'bite' at all - it is more like being gummed or sucked.

3) The Chinese have never had a reliable postal system. You can put a 'tagged' dried duck into the Chinese postal system, and years later a Californian post-doctorate student will tell you where it actually got to.




On with the Competition...

#6 Tom Jones - young ladies still throw their panties at this Welsh Wabinogion when he sings, so there's hope for us all. Maybe $35 per used pant (no worries logistically, I got connections a website and a clothes-basket) and say four gigs a week at fifteen young ladies a stand, we're looking at erm well you do the math, I am the talent not the accountant.


#7 Has to be Piet and Tonny Kamper


And before you object that this is "Wimoweh" and not whatever it was we were doing,I say, they are troupers and I love them and...

#8 and it is the real Tom Jones and you can see how wonderful Swansea is at high speed or maybe that was Cardiff, or somewhere near Wales. God I am getting old and tired. I am sorry for my Life.



#9 Little Joanie Baez adds a touch of class and folk insouciance to this otherwise miserable and muddy struggle for survival



#10 Nice hat but has no idea what self-pity is about, also he gives the ending away. Hm. Who is Charlie Pride?


And the Winner?

Well that depends on the votes of you out there.

Trrrr trrrr trrr tapping of fingernails waiting for your votes to come in for some asshole or loser or other.

BING time up.

And the Results Are:

George Jones won, as was predictable from the start.

Piet and Tonny Kamper get Special Award just for not doing "Green Green Grass of Home" in a "Green Green Grass of Home" competition, and for doing it so well.

Fails

All this and more at the Fail Blog.

The Answer

Pilgrims: What was the question?

Wise Wossy: Tell me then, what the answer was.

Plogrims: Like a pub quiz only you get the answers and you have to guess what the questions were?

Woss of Ages (cleft by me): You could win a free weekend in Hilbert's Hotel.

Readers: By cleft, you mean fucked?

Blogista: Yes, I have had Jonathan Ross and all of his offspring and offsprings' offspring and offsprings' offsprings' offspring* unto - unless they were under age, not Homo sapiens sapiens (patent pending) or otherwise incapable of consent.

Readers: So your "sex" life lately has been more barren than even your real one.

*I could and would have had their hamsters, gerbils &c only I don't do that kind of stuff. I only do sentient human beings.

And don't bother calling out your lawyers about the "sentient". I already fucked your lawyers mostly (the sentient ones).

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Postscript: It used in my day to be " Great Redeemer" not "Great Jehovah". And "purple hand"? "Feed me 'tl ('til???) I want no more" like foie gras, not "Feed me now and evermore"?

This must be an ironically ironic comedy combo. Or a first srike from that Damien Shark guy and his unpleasantly underpanted sidekick Trace.

Maybe God and the Flying Spaghetti Monster are both dead.

The great god Pan is dead.

Perhaps the beat combo would work better if theyhad an air of having emigrated recently from Veneuela or somewhere. They would need different hats, also ponchos. We would want to see a nose flute or two. What do you, the Readers, think?

Commentary

Armchair Blogeneral: Things are going down and up - and they should be going up and down!!!

This is intolerable. It is caused by Fools.

Ministers of State: We have not used the word "robust" for some time now, you will note. We have not called for the introduction of "robust measures", for instance, for some months now.

Armblog General: Aha! Your measures are to be as flimsy as the Circumstance itself?

Ministers of State: We will make some things bigger and others smaller. The bigger things must be biggened, the smaller smallened, or vice versa, partly in consequence of the Circumstance and partly in counter to it.

Blogchair Blogeral (shrewdly): Your method, then, is one of Sympathetic Magic: to "cure like with like" by continuing to do exactly what you had been doing, as one must rub a toad onto the face of one who has had a toad rubbed onto his face?

Ministers of State: It is a matter of both Faith and Science. "Christ on a Bike" is our watchword.

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And on top of all this we have a milkman for a Foreign Secretary.

What what?

Milligan??? He was surely one of those Go-Ons.

I Been the Woild

Instructions: to operate this mechanism, please click on the patch taped over the mouth.

Secret Agent

A shriek as General... as Peter Lorre flips a chocolate button between her breasts.

It matters.

I have not bothered with a James Bond fillum for twenty years and am not tempted by the bovine Mr D Craig in the latest "outing"s.

"Secret Agent" (clicky on the linky 2 c th'flicky), directed by Alfred Hitchcock, and starring John Gielgud, Peter Lorre, Madeleine Carroll, Robert Young - now there's a patchy and rather weird motion picture the way they used to make them.

Call me old and cranky but...

Readers: You are old, Father Blogiam, the young Readers said. And cranky.













"Oh I say, don't cry yet, have a cigarette." Everybody smokes for England in this flim and I approve the sentiment if not the methodology.

The days when I could puff contentedly at a Navy Cut or a Capstan Full Strength --- or a Number 6 ---

Tomorrow to the tobacconist on Church Street for a couple of boxes of oval Turkish, some proper untipped cigarettes and maybe a churchwarden pipe. Dammit.

Fold It

One 30MB download later and I'm hooked on folding proteins.