I did my best, it wasn’t much. I couldn’t feel, so I tried to touch. I’ve told the truth, I didn’t come here to fool you And even though it all went wrong I’ll stand before the Lord of Song with nothing on my tongue but Hallelujah

That’s the Imogen Heap version of the Cohen classic and not Bono‘s, and I wish he’d stop clicking those bloody fingers. The lyric was kinda suggested by Missie K but the boys in the pub tonight came up with some other interesting suggestions. Oh, and Cohen’s in town this week, isn’t he?

Y’see, Son Brian asked the other day if I’d chosen the music for my funeral (No. No reason that I’m aware of) and then he assumed it would all be in the blog. To a certain extent he’s right in that the opening music is in Blog 1 (Alex Harvey) but I can’t make up my mind for the closer between Hallelujah – Missie K will have the disc – or Whistling in the Dark – my gd frnd Clr has that disc….just in case.

The chorus? “Whistling, whistling, dark, dark”, for about five minutes. It’ll pass the time until you get to Maryhill Juniors Social Club with a steak pie purvey and a band please, but nothing too Emo.

Invite them both, my gd frnd Clr and Missie K – it’ll brighten up Maryhill Crem – and we’ll need the Vampire Slayer, obviously, and I’m sure, if you ask her nicely, the Parfery person will bring the incense.

And can I just say ladies, looking so good, so far. University suits.

It’s just I just feel my son should be prepared for anything in the future, like appearing on X Factor.

And so now, I’m sorry, High Horse Level Committee, here’s a Rant, albeit very wittingly.

To all those people who complained about Russell Brand  and Jonathan Russell without listening live, or on BBC iPlayer or on podcast or any other form of multi-platform broadcasting including, possibly, the Zones, at least listen to Andrew Sachs drawing a line under the affair. “Gracious” is the word that comes to mind.

It was a programme produced by an “inexperienced 25 year old”, employed by Russell Brand to make a programme presented by Russell Brand. That’s why the BBC has compliance procedures. They didn’t work on this occasion! That’s all. Some BBC person said it was okay for broadcast when it wasn’t. There, but for the grace of another pair of ears go many of us.

And it was a phone call. It wasn’t thousands of kids dying in yet another African country rescued only by the presence of mind of Orla Guerin which just made the last few minutes of the news. It was a telephone call, (or four), albeit a very stupid and unfunny one.

Have you never made a phone call you regretted? I know I have. Recently.

If only I’d spoken to an answering machine. Aaaargh!

At this point I storm out of the room, leaving only the hapless “inexperienced 25 year old” to put on The Infadels, Trk 2, from the album Universe in Reverse;

“We all make mistakes from time to time, but every moment I’m awake I’m making mine”

That’s better. I’m back. I went across the road to the cemetary (sp). It’s that time of year when they ritually sacrifice the local Vestal Virgin. It’s the same Vestal Virgin every year. I haven’t the heart to tell them where they’re going wrong. She’s called Mad Dog 20/20. Happy daze.

Not that last week’s furore was without humour. I pass over the txt version of correspondence between Jonathan and Gary Glitter which I received, available on application only folks, and I’d like to mention the exchange between Emily Maitlis and Mark Thompson on Newsnight when they discussed the Frankie Boyle gag which begins “The Queen is so old that……” The gag was on Mock the Week, BBC 2, Wed 29th Oct, if you want to watch it on BBC iPlayer, and it was in a programme originally pre-recorded and now shown as a repeat!

You can find the Emily and Mark show on BBC iPlayer as well. It happened the following night.

And whilst I remember, C, I did promise to find you that gag by Lenny Bruce. A promise is a promise and I’m still looking. Oh, and was it worth the wait? I think so, particularly on a Day Like This when Thistle win two – nil.

So how did I relax this week? I watched a video with some of my favourite ladies in it. No, not Zombie Strippers, and I’ll see that through to the end one day. No, some of the ladies from Maggie’s Farm, including Little Mo, attended the premiere of the latest Dan Craig blockbuster with Angus Purden portraying the hero. Hey, James Bond is about suspending disbelief.

Were you there, Jung Wan?

I’m glad I wasn’t invited or I’d have spent the entire evening boring people by telling them that “Quantum of Solace” was a short story written by Ian Fleming and is that moment when you know that a relationship is definitely over. I’m writing my own version based on many such experiences. I’m calling it “Dumped”. It doesn’t have the same ring, does it? Or for many of my listeners, how about “Dizzy at the Boots Corner”? Ask your mums. It wasn’t always me. Okay? Seriously.

And on the subject of Maggie’s Farm, the real high spot of the week was meeting one of my lady friends from the sandblasting days, who had also had chemo. I won’t name you to avoid embarrassing you, but your hair is looking so good. You look brilliant. Nice seeing you.

And, while I’m back in a good mood, my fave TV prog of the week, in an avuncular kind of way, was Britannia High. For me it made Sunday night TV, from the opening titles with the black guy playing basketball, obviously the black guy, through to the closing song and dance scene on top of the roof without Health and Safety saying a word. All that and an apostrophe gag halfway through as well. All it needed was Doris, the pianist from Fame. “Why Doris, how young you look!”

I tell you this, Emma J, it fair made my night before my heading out to Optimo with my glowsticks. Lime green they are, or is that my medication? I can never be sure.

And finally, why am I in this strange mood? Because in the midst of all this nonsense, the World’s greatest interviewer and broadcaster died (in my opinion, that is, but WTF do I know?), almost unremarked by the media. He is called Studs Terkel (note the present tense) and his new book is due out this month.

Students, test your tutors’ knowledge by asking about this man and his Pulitzer Prize (1985). Me? Yes, but I only worked with him once. Check him out.

The wires say “cause of death is not immediately available”. My guess is he died laughing his head off at the BBC’s self-flagellation this week. That’s how I’d like to go, Son Brian, having a good giggle. You can tell the Dumbarton Rock gag.

cya and normal fun service will be resumed next week.

Johnt850, a burlesque star in my own right.

3 Responses to “I did my best, it wasn’t much. I couldn’t feel, so I tried to touch. I’ve told the truth, I didn’t come here to fool you And even though it all went wrong I’ll stand before the Lord of Song with nothing on my tongue but Hallelujah”

  1. Johnt850 Says:

    Yes. I have just spotted the typo, before anyone says, either here, or by other means. Sorry.

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