Friday, 7 July 2006

MORE TALK OF THE DEVIL

My local Prophet whose teachings on the sin-healing power of apples were recently reported on this blog, has treated us to a further Revelation:

“A little proof of the mind of the DEVIL at work…” begins the epistle, “The DEVIL sees HEAVEN full of monkeys. He does not like the thought of a HEAVEN full of white, pure angels…

“Look at the word ‘LUCOZADE’ which is derived by the DEVIL from the words ‘APE ZOAN 7’ in which the number ‘7’ stands for HEAVEN.

“Turn ‘apezoan7’ upside down and you get ‘Lucozade’…”

OK, will do…


Er… Except, that actually you DON’T…

Oh, hang on a minute… There’s a postscript:

“You can pronounce it if the letter ‘c’ is an ‘a’.”

Which, unfortunately it ISN’T, and - even it were - that, very regrettably, is still not how you spell 'ZONE'!

Oh, well, the Devil, as they say, is in the detail…

And, anyway, quibbling with such uninhibited wildness of the imagination really does seem a tad petty.

Thursday, 6 July 2006

SING A SONG OF DISNEY

My new radio series, Ain’t No Mickey Mouse Music begins tomorrow, Friday, night at 7.00 pm on BBC Radio 2, 88-91 FM or live online at www.bbc.co.uk/radio2

This, my latest collaboration with producer Malcolm Prince, explores the words and music of the Disney Songbook - a melodic legacy that has endured for almost eighty years from the cranky little tunes accompanying Mickey Mouse’s earliest escapades through to Randy Newman’s score for the latest Disney/Pixar release Cars.

I’m not much given to blowing my own trumpet, but I have to admit to being really rather delighted that the series has received enthusiastic previews - especially one describing it as, “Brian Sibley’s gorgeous four-part celebration of the musical heritage of the Walt Disney studio.”

I’ve never made a programme that anyone has called “gorgeous” before!

It’s just, well, GORGEOUS really!

Of course, I've been a Disney fan now for more years than I care to remember and have an excessively large hoard of collectibles and memorabilia - from tawdry knick-knacks to rather more desirable items such as original Disney art.

On my Ex Libris blog I have recently posted an account of what is probably my most prized Disney possession: a genuine autograph of the Big Cheese himself - the Number One Mouseketeer!

LOVE WILL FIND A WAY... NOT!

From the daily morass of spam, a tragic voice cried out to me…


“I am a lovely and lonely lady who is looking for the man who will make me happy.

Without my beloved one, my soul mate, my King, my life is not complete.

I wish I could find him very soon so that we might share together every moment of a lifetime of romance!

What about you? Could you be my King, my beautiful Hero who will save me from this loneliness, find me and wake me with a kiss.

If the answer is ‘Yes’ - you can find out more about me on www.blankety-blank-blank [website details withheld]

Au revoir,

Galinka...”


Oh, poor, lovely, lonely Galinka, how can I break it to you?

I do not require my web site being publicised; I am not looking for competitively-priced supplies of Viagra; and, no, I really don’t need a replica Rolex, just now!

Which sadly, dear lady, is why you are going into-------

J U N K !


[Image: digital dreemz photographics]

Wednesday, 5 July 2006

WHAT DREAMS MAY COME

Last night I dreamed that I had a visit from Margaret Rutherford.

She arrived wearing a lime-green tweed suit and a bizarre shell-shaped hat that made her look as if she’d been doing a photographic shoot for Angus McBean.

In reality - or what passes for it in Dreamland - my guest looked so unlike the late Margaret Rutherford (right), being as thin as a string-bean and completely bald, that I now wonder how I recognised her. I think I merely assumed that, when acting in movies, she wore a wig and a great deal of padding.

I had some difficulty in getting her up to my flat as she got waylaid by a West Indian family downstairs who insisted on having autographs and photographs and only let her go after they had made a formal presentation of a bottle of very dubious-looking wine.

I cooked a pizza, which my guest picked at politely whilst sitting on the edge of my bed. We talked, but she didn’t seem to remember very much about her career and displayed a rather surprising hostility towards the character of Miss Jane Marple.

I kept meaning to ask for an autograph but kept forgetting and suddenly it was time for her to leave.

As I escorted Margaret Rutherford down to the Thames where her boat was to collect her, she said that she might like me to write her life story but would rather wait and see what she thought of my biography of Peter Jackson, if and when it was ever published.

At the riverbank, she was accosted by a local uniformed policeman who allegedly wanted her advice on some crime he was investigating. This, however, proved merely a ruse to get her autograph, which he did - in a copy of a child’s picture book about 'Andy Pandy'.

Eventually, a speedboat careered into sight with my guest’s husband, Stringer Davis, at the wheel. She stepped aboard - still clutching the bottle of West Indian wine - and away they sped up the Thames with her waving her shell-hat in a majestic salute…


Sometimes I wonder: what if we’ve got it all wrong and things are really the other way about, so that what we THINK is waking is actually the DREAMING…?

Tuesday, 4 July 2006

ANOTHER REASON TO CELEBRATE…

As well as being American Independence Day, July 4th is a day in the literary calendar worthy of much jubilation and celebration.

It was 144 years ago, today, that an Oxford don, the Reverend Charles Lutwidge Dodgson, together with a friend set off in a boat up-river from Oxford to Godstow, accompanied by Alice, Lorina and Edith Liddell, the three daughters of the Dean of Christ Church.

“On which occasion,” Mr Dodgson later recorded in his diary, “I told them the fairy-tale of ‘Alice’s Adventures Underground’, which I undertook to write out for Alice…”

“A boat beneath a sunny sky,
Lingering onward dreamily 

In an evening of July -

“Children three that nestle near, 

Eager eye and willing ear, 

Pleased a simple tale to hear…”

That "simple tale" eventually grew to become ‘Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland’ and was published, two years later, under the nom de plume ‘Lewis Carroll’ and with incomparable illustrations by Sir John Tenniel.

As a result, the world of children’s literature - and, in fact, the world in general - would never be quite the same again…


‘Alice’s Adventures’ also features on my new blog ‘Ex Libris’, where I’ll occasionally be writing about interesting volumes taken at idle moments from my bookshelves…

THE "BLESSINGS OF LIBERTY"




















Fond greetings on this Independence Day - July 4th, 2006 - to our many good friends in America.

May all of us - whatever our race, nationality or creed - remember the words of Thomas Jefferson:

"We hold these truths to be sacred and undeniable; that all men are created equal and independent, that from that equal creation they derive rights inherent and inalienable, among which are the preservation of life, and liberty, and the pursuit of happiness."

And also the proviso set down by Daniel Webster:

"God grants liberty only to those who love it, and are always ready to guard it and defend it."

For surely such wisdom belongs to the whole world as truly as it belongs to those who live the land of the free and the home of the brave.

[Image: © Brian Sibley]

Monday, 3 July 2006

THE MOTH WITH DREAMS

There was once a Moth whom the other moths dismissed as a hopeless dreamer.

Every evening when the candles were lit, all the moths - except one - flew straight for the light, fluttering around the dancing flames, drawn to the warm, glowing brilliance and totally oblivious to the dangers they risked until, that is, their bodies became charred and their wings were singed and caught fire.

One by one the moths would immolate and fall to the ground in tiny heaps of ash, except for the Moth who was a dreamer. He was never seduced by the candle-flames because he was drawn to another light: the pale, cold, creamy-blue disc of the moon which slowly crossed the sky and which the Moth, entranced, would watch through the glass of the windowpane.

Each night new moths would appear and rush towards the candles and certain death, while the dreamer Moth fluttered up and down against the glass, gazing at the moon and wishing that a day would come when he might find a way to fly to the beautiful pale light in the velvet-black night sky.

Of course, he never achieved his dream, but at least he knew what it was to dream; and, at any rate, he lived a good deal longer than any of the other moths…


© Brian Sibley 2006

[Image: clippix.com]

Read more of Brian's Fables and Likely Tales in 'Just Stories'.

Saturday, 1 July 2006

THE PENALTY FOR BEING INGURLISH

Oh, well. That’s that then…

What can one say? As an exit, it hardly seems unexpected...

Anyway, we can now toss all those made-in-Hong-Kong St George's flags away for another four years, go back to eating plain old 'Mars' (rather than 'Believe') bars and spare a few moments to ask ourselves how the hell we ever managed to get it right in 1966.

Nevertheless, I vote that it's really time to tell Becks & Co that, in future, they'll be paid on a strictly 'performance-related' basis!

No goals, no millionaire life-style.

Who knows, it might provide a bit of necessary stimulus and focus...

THE PERFECT FOOL

Having supper last evening in The Saint, our favourite Brighton restaurant, I overheard one of the people at the next table say:

“You see, he has to remember this instruction; ‘The pellet with the poison's in the vessel with the pestle; the chalice from the palace has the brew that is true!’ Then something happens and he has to forget it and remember something else... but the trouble is I can't now remember what it was…”

I readily admit to habitually eavesdropping on other people’s conversations in restaurants, but I seldom if ever ‘join in’… However, on this occasion (having already briefly - but passionately - spoken up in favour of the chilled beetroot and cucumber soup when they were debating what to order), I felt comfortable enough to lean over and say:

“I can tell you what happened… They broke the chalice from the palace and replaced it with a flagon with a dragon! And now the pellet with the poison's in the flagon with the dragon and the vessel with the pestle has the brew that is true!”

Immediate smiles of recognition! Gales of laughter!

No doubt, had any of the other diners heard this exchange, they would have put it down to a touch of the sun - or just the usual kind of eccentricities one runs across in Brighton!


But WE knew what we were talking about! This was the most quotable quote from one of the most hilarious films ever made: The Court Jester (1956) with the incomparable Danny Kaye as Hubert Hawkins, an inept member of a Robin Hood-style gang of medieval freedom-fighters, who impersonates a jester (and assassin) called Giacomo in order to infiltrate the castle of bad King Roderick.

Songs by Sylvia Fine and Sammy Cahn, gorgeous costumes by the great Edith Head and a classic cast - Glynis Johns, Basil Rathbone, Angela Lansbury, Cecil Parker and Mildred Natwick - effortless managing to play high-camp farce with total straight-faced seriousness!

In the case of Rathbone, as the villainous Ravenshurst, he also simultaneously succeeds in engaging the lunatic Kaye in one of the finest, fastest (and funniest) sword fights ever put on film.

If you’ve seen it, you’ll undoubtedly not only agree but already be chuckling at the memory of scriptwriters Melvin Frank and Norman Panama’s string of witty bon mots - such as Hawkins' observation: “A jester unemployed is nobody’s fool!” - and their rapid-fire comic dialogue:

KING RODERICK: The Duke. What did the Duke do?

HUBERT HAWKINS: Eh... the Duke do?

KING RODERICK: Yes. And what about the Doge?

HUBERT HAWKINS: Oh, the Doge!

KING RODERICK: Well what did the Doge do?


HUBERT HAWKINS: The Doge do?

KING RODERICK: Yes, the Doge do.

HUBERT HAWKINS: Well, uh, the Doge did what the Doge does. Eh, uh, when the Doge does his duty to the Duke, that is.

KING RODERICK: What? What's that?

HUBERT HAWKINS: Oh, it's very simple, sire. When the Doge did his duty and the Duke didn't, that's when the Duchess did the dirt to the Duke with the Doge.

KING RODERICK: Who did what to what?

HUBERT HAWKINS: Oh, they all did, sire. There they were in the dark; the Duke with his dagger, the Doge with his dart, Duchess with her dirk.

KING RODERICK: Duchess with her dirk?

HUBERT HAWKINS: Yes! The Duchess dove at the Duke just when the Duke dove at the Doge. Now the Duke ducked, the Doge dodged, and the Duchess didn't. So the Duke got the Duchess, the Duchess got the Doge, and the Doge got the Duke!

KING RODERICK: Curious… All I heard was that the Duchess had a siege of rheumatism. She's 83, you know.

Brilliant stuff!

And if it just so happens that you HAVEN’T seen it, well, what are you waiting for? It’s a gem! Hire it - better still, BUY it - immediately!

It’ll certainly provide a far less stressful way of passing the afternoon than sitting through the England v Portugal World Cup match!

MORE FORTUNE-COOKIE WISDOM

This is my ‘All-Time-Favourite’ fortune-cookie fortune!





But just supposing it were actually TRUE?!