RIP Clement Freud: Liberal, wit, and raconteur.

:(

If you resolve to give up smoking, drinking and loving, you don't actually live longer; it just seems longer.

Blogging might be a bit light for a few days. My nan died this morning. I know you guys will understand.

RIP Tony Hart. I know anisiriusmagus will be feeling about this the way I felt about John Mortimer the other day, and I suspect ginasketch will have similar feelings too.

I sent loads of pictures in to his various programmes, but none of them ever got on the Gallery because I was rubbish. That didn't matter, though. His friendly enthusiasm made everything OK, and he was far more avuncular and comforting than Neil Buchanan on ITV's brash upstart Art Attack.

A couple of months ago we all heard the news that Tony could no longer draw due to a stroke. Fate seems to have a cruel sense of humour. Artists losing the use of their hands; authors getting Alzheimer's; actors who rely on precision of movement getting Parkinson's... There's too much of life's toast landing butter side down, and there's just too many of my childhood icons passing on for me to process them all at the moment. And it's too early to get drunk.

And I'm allergic to caffeine, so I can't even have a chocolate binge.

Damn.

When I were a lass, I dreamed of being Rumpole of the Bailey. Not the moustache and the small cigars and the nagging wife, but the impeccably liberal and just junior barrister who fought against the system to prevent it trampling over the harmless who happened to get caught in its path. I admired Leo McKern's irascible yet lovable performance, and Rumpole instilled in me a fascination with the law.

Fast forward a few years. I'm an undergrad law student at Hull uni, and there's a trip to Lincoln's Inn for those of us planning on going to the bar. They sit us along a long table, barrister-student-barrister-student. The rather elderly gentleman I was sitting next to shared my fondness for expensive cigarettes and even more expensive brandy, and we had long and wide chats. I remember discussing the minimum wage with him, and his stunned face when I told him that a mere two years prior to our conversation I had been being paid £1.90 an hour on the tills at Morrison's, and that was more than the shelf stackers got. He thought (as Mat tells me many of the rich kids at his uni thought) that the minimum wage was pointless because nobody got paid that little... I asked him what he would say if he was asked to give one piece of advice to an aspiring barrister. He said two words. Read Rumpole. I told him that I remembered watching it as a kid, but I hadn't realised there were books too. If anything, his face was even more shocked than before. He told me that although the author's politics were a bit dodgy the procedural detail was impeccable and invaluable. As soon as we got back to Hull, I went to the secondhand book shop...

I may not have become a barrister, despite my best efforts, but Rumpole had a big influence on my politics. Rumpole and the Golden Thread. Rumpole and the Children of the Devil. Rumpole and the Reign of Terror. Every one of them a clear, concise picture of one man fighting to secure justice for his client against a system which is huge, lumbering, and badly thought-out. Yes, it's a romantic vision of the law, but because its author was a practising barrister, with an intimate working knowledge of the legal system, it was flawless in its portrait.

John Mortimer's genius was, as has been said before, in taking radical liberal/left positions, and making them seem like perfectly natural, reasonable, and utterly British (and therefore making them appeal to Conservatives). His books are full of example after example of Liberal philosophy cleverly disguised as story; topical comment disguised as fiction. Today, he passed away. I'll miss his incisive wit and evidential eye for detail. I'll miss him appearing on This Week and advancing the most outrageously Liberal positions and trying to smoke in the studio. I'll miss his books, and I'll miss new Rumpoles with Timothy West on radio four.

A defining influence on my life has gone today. Coping will not come easily.

1928 - 2009



A fond farewell to the man who instilled in me my love of the Caterham Seven (Lotus Seven as was) and made one of the best TV shows ever. Does anyone else have this image of him at the Pearly Gates, saying to St Peter that he won't be pushed, filed, stamped, indexed, briefed, debriefed or numbered, and that his afterlife is his own?

Still, at least he and Leo McKern are reunited now.

ETA: I just hit post on this and now I find that Ricardo Montalban has gone too.

:(

I'm thoroughly depressed now.

Oh bugger. Another one of my icons falls. Ironic, that it was Christmas Day, given her greatest hit.



I prefer to think of her in playful mode, as she so often was. A fond farewell, then, to one of the sexiest and most powerful performers this planet has ever known. Michelle Pfieffer didn't even come close.

Happy Posting is suspended for this post. Actress, producer and feminist SF icon Majel Barrett has passed away. She put a hell of a lot of herself into science fiction, and was rewarded by being forever overshadowed by her husband. They'd bloody well better dedicate the new Trek film to her, since it will be her epitaph.

I think that after work this evening I shall watch the episode of Animated Trek where Christine Chapel saves the men's arses after they all get sirenned in her honour, and raise a glass to the first, the original, Enterprise crew Number One.

People of my age grew up with The Clangers, and Noggin the Nog, and Bagpuss. But my favourite was always Ivor the Engine...



The subtle indoctrination into conservationism was very effective. But not as funny as the anti-imperialism of The Clangers, when the astronaut lands and plants his flag, and mother Clanger says "Oh, great! I could do with a new tablecloth!"...

When I was at school, I had a maths teacher. In fact, I had several. Nothing unusual about that. But one, in particular, stood out. She was as hard as nails in class. Exactly the kind of teacher required to actually get any work out of a bone-idle student with natural talent like me. After I finished school we kept in touch, and she became a friend. When my daughter was a couple of weeks old, I had to go up to the school for some reason, and I remember sitting in Sue's office (she was deputy head by then) with Sue jiggling my Shrubby on her knee and cooing over her, and chatting away for a good two hours. Over the last few years she has had some problems with mobility - she's in a mobility cart most of the time now - but she and her husband were quite a team. His hands were a bit dicky, and he was getting a bit forgetful, but he could walk just fine. Her legs had gone, but her mind was as pinsharp as ever, and her hands were fine. I'd run into her husband in town a lot, at the post office or the cheese shop, and he didn't always remember my name, but he always knew that he knew me.

Last time we visited her she gave my daughter a book about rockets and stars and jelly, and was tickled at her burgeoning mathematical ability. We had a great afternoon sitting in Sue's (lovely) garden, drinking juice and watching my little one watering the plants and stuff.

I heard today that her husband died yesterday, after a sudden bout of pneumonia.

I think today things will probably still be a bit raw, but I'll ring up tomorrow and ask if she needs anything doing. This is a public post because I know a fair few old school friend read this on occasion. Send your thoughts to the old SK tonight, Hipperholmienses. I know you didn't all get on with her - hell, I didn't when she was giving me (mostly deserved) detentions - but she's a bloody good person, and fate has dealt her a hard blow this weekend.

We didn't go to a big display. We got a small cheap box of fireworks (£5) and a pack of sparklers, and set them off outside the house. Various neighbours' children joined us. It was WAY more fun than going to a big display.

:D

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Quote of the Day? I'm not sure if it goes to cassandravert or sovietkiki

Vert said:

But of course it was also a historic election. Not everyone in the US has felt represented in politics. There are some kinds of people that we give lip service to, but when push comes to shove, they are not welcome in certain circles. It has been, if not the kiss of death in American politics, at least something to overcome. But last night we elected a President who represents this group and makes no apologies for it, wears it openly like a badge of honor.

Last night, we elected an intellectual.

Kiki was talking about what the views of God might be, and said:

Considering he is Morgan Freeman, it would make more sense

I love that when people think about God, they picture Morgan Freeman in a white suit. He's come a long way from being Kevin Costner's sidekick...

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RIP Michael Crichton. I'll come out right now and say that I'm not a big fan of Michael Crichton's writing in general, but he did write and direct one of my all time favourite films. Condolences to his family, friends, and fans.

A friend of several friends, and a sad loss to Doctor Who fandom. Thinking of his family tonight, and everyone who knew him better than me.

* hugs to all *

Best entry I have seen on the death of the iconic Don LaFontaine is Steve's.

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mle292 links to news of the free RATM concert that was supposed to happen outside the Republican National Convention. Land of the Free? Whoever told you that is your enemy...

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Via sylo_tode, a slightly cruel cartoon for Monopoly players:



I see the level of debate about Palin isn't going to rise any time soon, then?

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It is something I still cannot understand: why do scientists conduct research into heterosexual relationships and only study the men in those relationships? Does it not take two to make a heterosexual monogamous relationship? Warning for those who are happily non-het and/or non-monogamous: this article will make your ears steam in it's normative presumption.

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And if that doesn't make you grumpy, Peter Black has lit the blue touchpaper and is sprinting away. Ann Widdecombe. One of those people who, although she has a raft of abhorrent opinions, at least holds them honestly and with integrity, making you respect her even as you detest her. Dammit.

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To end on a cheerful note, Millennium has been to Bletchley Park, bless him. Loveliest entry of the day so far.

Chef has gone to the great school canteen in the Sky. I shall listen to Love Gravy in tribute.

Via tyrell comes the news that another piece of my childhood has slipped away. I looked at this post, and those were the books I grew up with. THAT edition of LotR. THOSE Narnia books. THAT Watership Down.

The art in the Narnia books, in particular, is simple and beautiful and clear and seeps straight into the memory, to stick there for always. Who can think of Mr Tumnus without seeing the picture of he and Lucy walking away arm-in-arm? The kind of talent which draws art THAT iconic isn't easy to come by, and should be celebrated.

RIP, Pauline Baynes.

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Completely unrelated, but which still brought a tear to my eye... It's not often I read fic this days, much less recommend it. Nearly all fic is self-indulgent wankery, and I have to read enough of that on the political blogs. So when I rec something, you KNOW is gotta be good, right?

This is How The Universe Ends stars Captain Jack Harkness and Discworld Death, and it is full of laugh-out-loud humour and genuine pathos, and made me satisfyingly weepy by the end. If you have ten minutes, go and read it, even if you only have a passing familiarity with one or other of the characters. The odd spelling mistake aside, this is the best fic I have read all year, and I don't say that lightly. Go! Read!

- RIP Elizabeth Spriggs. :( Like most people my age, I first came across her in Simon and The Witch, and when I discovered as an adult how broad her range of roles was I was amazed and pleased that this stalwart of my childhood had had so much influence. A more versatile and talented actress would be difficult indeed to find. (hat-tip: addyit)

- Via captainlucy, This is IMDb’s top 25 all-time box office hits. Bold the ones you saw in the cinema, italicize the ones you saw some other way instead, and leave the unseen ones alone.

( click here for my shame at #1 )

- failblog_rss continues to be hilarious:



- MOAR silly image (Hat-tip: friend James the civil servant, spending our taxes wisely by playing on the internet at work):



- I go see Moths Ate My Doctor Who Scarf tonight. YAY!

George Carlin, thorn in the side of the po-faced and pompous since the sixties, has passed away. The world is a poorer place without his biting wit and pinpoint accuracy on political targets.

I vote we all ring the local radio station and swear as much as possible over the air in his honour.

The entire radio four homepage has gone black:



:(

Today the news is full of the death of the Mother of the House, and justifiably so. Gwyneth Dunwoody was a true parliamentarian, a liberal leftie of the old school, and someone I admire very much. She commanded respect from all parties (except perhaps the leadership of her own), and from her electorate, and she will be sadly missed in these days of career (as opposed to vocational) politicians. She was that rare beast in the modern Labour party, an honest politician who stuck by her principles even in the face of a three line whip.

Gywneth, this Lib Dem salutes you.

You may have had some suspect political views, but you had some great ones too, and you were a fantastic actor, and there will now never be another Proper Disaster Movie, because you're not alive to be in it.

A number of people on my f-list have commented on your death already, but I think caseytalk said it best, here. I look forward to the inevitable screenings of Ben Hur, The Ten Commantments and Soylent Green on the tellybox within the next few days. And hopefully maybe even Wayne's World II, because although it was only a cameo, that was a lovely little role, and a good tribute to you as an actor.