Heroes Of Comedy No2 - Chic Murray

A clip of Chic Murray, rarer than hens teeth these are............This is from a Variety performance in Aberdeen, sometime in the eighties. A great wee biog of the man can be found here and his best one liners are here

They didn't come more 'off the wall' than Chic. Little language tricks, feints of logic and, in character at least, the demeanour of a man soberly facing down the absurdity of his situations like they were just minor inconveniences.

There are bits of this performance that don't seem to quite come off. As he nears the end of his allotted time, he sacrifices a couple of gags, almost relegating them to the narrative, simply so he can get to the punchline before he 'runs over'. As stated in the short piece about him linked above, Chic was at his best when he had no constraints. Had he lived just a bit longer, I think he would have benefited from a few 'specials', shows in which he could stretch his legs and move through his material at will.

Comedian Doug Healy does a pretty good run through of Chic Murray material in this clip. If you can suspend disbelief for a minute or two, it's actually not too far off target.

Further Observations On Futility And Impotence

American physicist Hugh Everett came up with something called "The Theory Of Universal Wave Function". It later became known as the 'Many Worlds Theory', a catchier short-hand phrase, used to invoke the notion that for every observed eventuality, there are many other alternate evenualities, or universes which split off from the world we are conscious of. Or something.............

Although centred on the quantum world and the observation of particles, it's rather startling conclusions have been the fuel for many a bad science fiction writer, and even more wild eyed physicists looking for grants to try and prove that time travel is a possibility. I won't pretend to know exactly what it's all about and the Wikipedia page for it will leave all but Larry Teabag non-plussed, but I did find a much simpler explanation, along with a rather wonderful adaptation of a Super Mario video game to illustrate the theory.




Of course, if alternate universes did exist for every possible outcome to any action or decision a decidedly non-quantum mass such as myself were to make, then I would have to state with some degree of sadness that about 50% of them would involve death by quite horrific injury, possibly involving buses, cars, motorcycles or suicide from the 2nd floor window of an office block in Glasgow city centre................

Watch Me Destroy Myself b/w Gravity

A - Watch me Destroy Myself

B - Gravity

Heroes Of Comedy No1 Victor Borge

Victor Borge was a Danish musical genius. He was also a comedy legend. Enjoy! Some of this may elude you, as it did me, but the best bits are as good and 'off the wall' as any Chic Murray..........

Dafties

Every so often, find myself over at the other office to collect files for our department and each time I come away wondering what it is they teach them at school nowadays.

Overheard the other day...........

1 - "That Paris Hilton makes great perfume!"

2 - "How do you spell 'Richard'? Is there a 't' in it?"

3 - "What does 'intricate' mean?"

There are more, but I'd need to talk to other witnesses and make a list of them. The latest one I heard was "What's this 'credit card crunch' thing about then?" Utter genius!

Mind you, give me a genuine simpleton over some pseudo-intellectual bore any day of the week.

Observations Of Human Habit From The Safety Of The Mothership

What sort of arse flicks or wipes bogeys on the walls and door of a toilet cubicle at work? Is this some sort of throwback to potty training when they would shit the floor to let mummy know who was really in control? The snot tends to be dried up, but if I ever see a soggy one, I fear I may projectile vomit. Fuck! Public toilets are rotten places at the best of times, do they have to make them even worse? There are a couple of maldjusted and skanky candidates in the office who could be labelled as possible culprits, but it'll take a bit of detective work to flush them out, if you'll pardon the pun................

On the subject of regurgitation, I have noticed that when I see someone puking, the first thing I want to do is, well, puke.......... I'm always slightly worried that a drunk man staggering along Saracen Street in Possil Park on a Sunday afternoon as I walk to the speedway, will set off a massive chain reaction of vomiting that doesn't stop until a day later when the Queen politely excuses herself from a photo call with disadvantaged kiddies to go and 'talk to God on the big white telephone'.

Anyway, none of that matters, for I have seen the future and it's thick as fuck! Paying for my shopping in Lidl today, I noticed the Police on the premises, talking to the security guard. The staff room door opened briefly and I caught sight of a couple, maybe in their mid twenties, dishevelled and looking resigned to their fate. What really caught my eye was the mass of Iceland bags on the counter behind the tills. The security guard was demonstrating to the officer how the sticky fingered ones had been stuffing their bags with little 'extras', seemingly after having spent a fair old whack in the shop next door. I do realise that the temptation to nick stuff if you've just spent your Giro on a weeks shopping may be too much for some, but surely you would do your main shop at Lidl and nick yr 'bits' at Iceland? No?

Basically, they didn't need to steal anything, they had enough shopping to feed themselves and whatever brood they may have had. Sorry to say it folks, but these people ain't starving........

I will say this, the guys they have on security at Lidl just now are pretty good. I've seen some of the goons they hire and to be frank, they creep me out. One looked like a fat pervert and bored customers and check out assistants alike with his smarmy 'yeah, I know stuff' bullshit, a bit like a male version of the hideous she-bore I have to put up with at work. Another busied himself by telling customers how good certain products were, while no doubt some trackie clad skell was tucking packets of biscuits into his pockets on the other side of the store.

It may just be me, but it must be said that cut price supermarkets are a haven for dafties. On the whole both staff and customers are fine, but the very nature of these operations will attract people with only a very tenuous grip on reality and as such, they provide top notch, if slightly uncomfortable specatator sport.

Just don't make eye contact with them.................

Budding 3

Budding 2

Budding 1

The iLL Man Makes Music

For the last five years, I have been accumulating little snippets of music on a four track recorder. Until now, they have remained on old TDK tapes, only heard by myself. Two tracks found their way onto Myspace, along with a few studio recordings I did, but apart from that, my musical output is almost nil. Taking my lead from Youtube recording legend Tay Zonday (who I like to think stole most of his moves from me), I have decided to upload some of these tracks. I shall release them in pairs, like singles, with an 'A Side' and a 'B Side'. Just like the olden days.


A - Resignation Song

B - Find Me A Place To Hide

Rick Rolling Rights And Wrongs

Just how much mileage can you get out of a video of an adenoidal, badly dressed man with a mountainous quiff?


If you've never had the pleasure of being 'Rick Rolled', it's a recent internet phenomenon whereby you click on a link to something you want to see, but instead you're rewarded with something you resolutely didn't want to see, i.e, the worst pop song of 1987.

It has to be said, the link that Blogger stuck in their updates page promising a rundown of a new feature, was, if anything, even more horrific. If you've never experienced the baritone bullshit of Tay Zonday, then count yourselves lucky.
For those with strong stomachs, check out his 'internet hit' Chocolate Rain. The guy's like a Sesame Street Jas Mann

I suppose 'Rick Rolling' it's one of those things that can be done when posting any link, it needn't be Rick Astley, but it seems nobody has gotten round to more extreme takes on the theme. I await the day someone links to a live trepanning video in lieu of some celebrity porn. The Rick Astley gag probably wore thin worldwide after about a month, but somehow or other people always seem to take time to have a good old chortle over it. It's a bit like humouring the office wanker I suppose...........

My theory is that someone put in the wrong link on a mass consumption website by accident and forget about it. Suddenly, instead of people saying 'Ha! You listen to shit music!', the mistake is instead being hailed as the work of an online situationist prankster genius. I mean, it could just as easily have been a link to the web masters favourite animal porn site. 'Yeah! You been Doggy Rolled!!' doesn't quite have the same ring to it, though 'Urgh! You fucking sick cunt' certainly does..........

Anyway, In my own haphazard little way, I've probably led, oh, dozens of people to websites they have little or no interest in..........................

Including this one.



Athlete Cured by The Fall

Oh Dear Delia.............!

I like salt. Salt is good, it makes my food taste of, well, salt I suppose, but it's better than no salt which is a miserable thing. Take salt out of most food and it will taste of shit. I hasten to add that I'm not referring here to processed food, which probably has far too much of the stuff, but instead I mean home made food. This is where Delia comes in. Looks like the old dear has incurred the wrath of dietary fascists who stalk this land. Her crime? Publishing recipes using, er................ processed food............. ?

Shit! There goes that arguement...............

Anyway, Caitlin Moran has written a very good article in The Times which provides a spot on overview of Delia's 'Shock! Horror!' defection from preparing wholesome sunday lunches and fondant fancies in favour of rattling together dishes with the aid of frozen, tinned and packet ingredients. It's aimed squarely at people who convince themselves that they have no time to cook, an absurdity in itself, but we shall pop back to that in a moment.

It all reminds me of a show that was on tv years ago, usually broadcast in five minute bursts in the early hours of Saturday or Sunday morning, the name of which I forget, which involved various unkempt student types demonstrating ad-hoc post-pub gastronomical delights to a nation of sozzled sots. This time however, instead of 'Gregg and Hannah' showing you how to throw together a vegetarian spag bol, or 'Fat Gaz' letting you in on his secret techniques for making 'Fried Egg in Tomato Ketchup', it's Delia chucking tinned mince, pre grated cheese and freeze-dried mash into the mix and making cottage pie. Oh well, I suppose peeling a few spuds, boiling them and then mashing them will take all night, won't it? Fresh mince is fairly cheap and takes minutes to brown off in a pan, and frankly, if you can't be arsed grating some cheddar, then you truly are a useless c**t. The difference beteen making the dish with fresh ingredients and with ready ingredients is maybe an hour. You haven't got an hour to spare of an evening? C'mon!!

It's not all bad though, this chap reckons Delias 'chuck' isn't nearly as bad as the foodies (see the quote from Giles Coren in the Caitlin Moran article: "Like having a pig piss in your throat") and the nutritionists are making out. Or maybe he's just in the pay of the likes of Knorr, Campbells and John West..................

Of course, I'm one to talk. My diet isn't great and relies on jars and tins to a degree, but what gets me is that there are people out there who are even lazier than I am. people who won't cut and cook some chicken, won't fry off some beef mince, won't boil a spud or grate some cheese....................

Contrary to poular belief, you can make decent food in jig time, using fresh ingredients. I know this, for I have done it. All that stops me from doing it more often is a lack of imagination and a palate that calls a halt to proceedings at the merest whiff of 'green stuff'.

I have no fear of salt, not as long as tomatoes and broccoli stalk the earth..............

Some Observations On Futility And Impotence

Saw someone having some sort of breakdown in Iceland (the supermarket chain, not the country) the other day. Not sure if she was a junkie or an alkie, but she had packed about half a dozen pizzas into her basket and seemed to be manically hunting through the freezer units. I had noticed she didn't look to be in the rudest health, but I figured she was ok. Apparently not..........I was at the checkout when two staff members suddenly looked a bit panicked and raced off in her direction. I get the feeling she had collapsed in one of the isles. Poor sod, it's no way to fucking live.............

Met a stray dog tonight. No collar, just a wee brown dug, sniffing about and picking up scents. May it find a fair few open rubbish bags tonight. You really do want to stop and call these mutts over, clap them, talk to them, give them a scratch behind the ear. Problem is, they're probably full of fleas and other nasty shit. feeling sorry for these guys is one thing, doing something about it is quite another.

Another seminar at work. This time it was broken up into groups, each one informing you of the benefits of working for Company X. Of the five sections, three did their job with minimum fuss, one condescended badly by using a football pitch and 'cut out' football jerseys to illustrate the difference between the benefits available from the new company as opposed to the old one. They even handed out a 'programme' and 'match ticket' for the 'Benefits Trophy'. Oh dear!

The worst was the head of HR who committed the ultimate sin and decided that we, his audience should do the talking. Sadly, he got about five minutes out of my particular group before deciding he'd had enough and went out for a fag. I hadn't the heart to inform the poor fucker that I couldn't care less about the merger, that I really had no thoughts in my head beyond what I was having for tea tonight and in all honesty, I'd rather have heard more from the guy outlining the pension scheme. Sweet Lord!

On the up side, it was a damn sight better than fighting sleep while some director prattles on for an hour and a half about company structure..............



Too Drunk To Fuck by the Dead Kennedys

Down By The River

Under Blossom