Forget What Did

Three people I sat near this week.

2012-02-18T12:13:00.001Z

Click to embiggen.

(Personal note for people who know my friend Greg: the third guy is not my friend Greg. He's an Australian barman who must absolutely play my friend Greg if (when) Hollywood make a movie of the My Friend Greg Story. I have no idea if he can act. Nor do I care.)

Also, I'm on the Now Show again today - 12.30 on Radio 4, and iPlayer for a week thereafter - trying to work out whether sanctimonious atheists or mock-persecuted Christians are more irritating. It's basically a draw.

Too much of a mediocre thing.

2012-02-08T17:43:00.000Z

I came across an excellent book the other day. It was called 'What Will I Do With All Those Courgettes?' That's what I call a title. Straight away, the author has asked a question that demands to be answered. The potential reader may try to move on to read the spines of other books on the shelf, but a part of him or her will be unable to stop thinking. 'Yes... but what will she do with all those courgettes?

That's what happened to me, so I took the book down from the shelf. The front cover was... everything I could have hoped for.

So, I had a look in the book, so that I'll be fore-warned and fore-armed if - when - the courgettes come for me.

Now, perhaps you, like me, have at this point assumed that this is an eye-catching title for a book of recipes about dealing with all sorts of seasonal gluts. Courgettes, certainly, but also blackberries, tomatoes, apples... After all, this was a proper book-sized book - about 200 pages - it could hardly ALL be courgette recipes, could it?

Oh yes. It could.

Though that's not to say the author didn't have to, er, stretch a little at times. Here are some of my favourites:

I like the note about it being possible to use other vegetables in place of 'the ones mentioned' (SPOILER: courgettes.) So, basically, this courgette omelette recipe boils down to 'Make an omelette. Put courgettes in it. (You don't have to put courgettes in it.)' And from there it's only a short step to...

So, that's 'Pizza-with-anything', featuring as the primary ingredient 'basic pizza shell'.

1) Buy a pizza. 2) Put stuff on it. 3) Yeah, including courgettes. If you must.

But the piece de resistance is surely...

...you know, I think they will. I think by the time you are rendered so desperate by the unstoppable influx of courgettes that you're reduced to sticking them in a chocolate cake, your friends will be pretty damn familiar with your 'secret ingredient'. Also, you won't have any friends. You'll be the weird courgette lady. Kids will throw stones at your house. And you will throw courgettes at the kids.

1 thing I drew this week - Thing One

2012-01-29T13:50:00.000Z

Occasional drawing posts are for life, not just for advent. So here, have a Dame Maggie Smith.

Why don't you get yourself a little trophy?

2012-01-24T01:47:00.000Z

More good news - there is to be a second series of John Finnemore's Souvenir Programme! We don't know precisely when yet; but we do know that there will be six episodes this time round. Which means that, along with series four of Cabin Pressure, I now have twelve half hours of radio comedy to write. Gulp.

Also, the lovely people at the British Comedy Guide Awards have voted C.P. best radio sitcom of 2011, and J.F's S.P. best radio sketch-show. Thank you, them!

Filthy lucre.

2012-01-18T14:35:00.000Z

No, it's fine, really. If anything, I'm glad it's out of service...

Shameless self-publicity. (Warning- may contain traces of shame.)

2012-01-11T17:56:00.000Z

Two quick bits of news: firstly, I was on The Unbelievable Truth earlier this week, mostly lying about crocodiles. I am very proud of my triumphant final score of No Points. What a magnificent achievement! Mind you, it wasn't easy to concentrate with all the wounded, terrified quail flapping about the theatre.

Anyway, that should still be on the iPlayer for a bit; and then I did another one which will go out in three weeks' time. And in between, I'm on the News Quiz next week. So, good news for people who enjoy my half-baked opinions, or my fully baked lies about pasta. Mmmmm. Pasta bake.

The other piece of news is that Cabin Pressure has been nominated for an audio drama award for best comedy. So, that's nice.

The best thing before sliced bread...

2012-01-07T12:19:00.000Z

...was, it turns out, wrapped bread. Here's the proof:

Just thought you'd like to know.

That's what it says on his business cards.

2012-01-05T16:44:00.000Z

A new entry in my occasional, and very niche, series: Favourite Guess In The Game 'Articulate' Played Over Christmas. (If you don't know it, 'Articulate' is a board game where you try to get your team-mates to say as many of the words on the card as possible without using those words yourself.)

Describer: [Trying to get the guesser to say the word 'Adder'] 'Black (pause) Rowan Atkinson...'
Guesser: 'Lenny Henry!'

24 Things I drew this month - Thing Twenty Four. Plus...Cabin Pressure news.

2011-12-31T23:48:00.003Z

Click for paramount version

Happy New Year! From me, and from all the crew at MJN Air. Which, I am happy to be able to tell you, WILL be returning for a fourth series. We don't know when yet, but my best guess is sometime in the second half of this year.

Thank you for reading, and for all your nice comments about my drawings this month. Normal service will now be resumed.

Oh yes it is.

2011-12-30T14:58:00.000Z

Hello, hope you had the merriest of Christmasses. If you are wondering where the twenty-forth thing I drew this month is, it will be here tomorrow. In the meantime, you might enjoy listening to the Radio Four Panto I wrote with my friend and ex double act partner Kevin Baker. It's on at 6.15 tonight, stars Sandi Toksvig and Andy Hamilton, and features loads and loads of other Radio Four names, from Kirsty Young to Nicholas Parsons. If you like Radio Four, I think you'll enjoy it. If you don't listen to Radio Four much, it will be largely incomprehensible.

24 things I drew this month - Thing Twenty Three

2011-12-24T18:37:00.000Z

Something a little jollier today...

24 Things I drew this month - Thing Twenty Two

2011-12-23T23:55:00.001Z

Bah, Humbug.

24 things I drew this month - Thing Twenty One

2011-12-22T23:51:00.001Z

Also woof.

24 Things I drew this month - Thing Twenty

2011-12-21T17:35:00.000Z

Woof.

24 Things I drew this month - Thing Nineteen

2011-12-20T23:41:00.001Z

Here, have a scribbly opera house.

Buildings are really dull to draw, it turns out. Glad I'm not an architect.

24 Things I drew this month - Thing Eighteen

2011-12-19T12:37:00.000Z

Whoops, late again. So, first today, here's something to make you glad it's not summer.

24 things I drew this month - Thing Seventeen

2011-12-17T23:51:00.002Z

There is actually a perfectly good explanation for why I have spent some of this evening making a paper model of a tube train driven by Queen Victoria, and carrying, among others, Isaac Newton, Morecambe and Wise, Henry VIII and Winnie the Pooh.

Hard though I accept that may be to believe.

24 things I drew this month - Thing Sixteen

2011-12-16T22:36:00.000Z

24 things I drew this month - Thing Fifteen

2011-12-15T23:54:00.001Z

I've only drawn one line today; but in fairness it is quite a complicated line.

Click for bigger (actually, that goes for any of these drawings)

Team A

Team B

24 things I drew this month - Thing Fourteen

2011-12-14T23:25:00.002Z

24 things I drew this month - Thing Thirteen

2011-12-13T18:35:00.000Z

Another scribbly one, but I thought it was time I tried drawing something that wasn't a face or an animal. Or the face of an animal. So, here's this.

24 things I drew this month - Things Twelve a, Twelve b, Twelve c and Twelve d.

2011-12-12T23:33:00.002Z

I was away at the weekend, so I took a sketchbook, and tried doing some quick, rough sketches of people unlucky enough to sit near me, before they either moved or noticed. Also, to encourage me to be fast and loose, I tried not rubbing anything out; with mixed results, as you'll see.

On the train up:

In a cafe: (That's a tumbler of orange juice in front of him; he's not a giant with a pint.)

At the barber's:

In the pub:

24 things I drew this month - Thing Eleven

2011-12-11T16:15:00.001Z

Yes, that last one was meant to be Stephen Fry, but it didn't quite come off. The mouth is all wrong. Similarly, this one is meant to be William Hague, and has also not quite come off. Caricature is hard. You see, this is why I normally make faces up - then you can't get them wrong.

24 things I drew this month - Thing Ten

2011-12-11T12:59:00.001Z

Oh dear - missed a day again. I'll put two up today to compensate. Here's the first.

24 things I drew this month - Thing Nine

2011-12-09T23:58:00.001Z

Funny how one thing leads to another. The monsters came from the buffalo, but then I had such fun drawing the big guy at the back that I spent an hour today doodling thugs and villains. This one's my favourite.

...but he's ever so good to his dear old Mum.

24 things I drew this month - Thing Eight

2011-12-08T23:54:00.000Z

Monsters! (Part 2)

My scanner's not quite big enough for it, but you get the gist. Monsters. That's the gist.

24 things I drew this month - Thing Seven

2011-12-07T23:56:00.000Z

Monsters! (Part One)

24 things I drew this month - Thing Six

2011-12-06T23:28:00.000Z

Work in progress.

24 things I drew this month - Thing Five

2011-12-05T23:54:00.001Z

...and, hopefully just sneaking in under the wire of midnight, please accept this complimentary dodo.

24 things I drew this month - Thing Four

2011-12-05T18:27:00.000Z

Hello, sorry, I was at the Winter Festival in Hay on Wye yesterday; without my scanner or indeed my computer. So, here's yesterday's Thing, a quick caricature of someone I saw at the festival:

...And I'll put today's up later tonight, and we'll be on track again.

24 things I drew this month - Thing Three

2011-12-03T09:04:00.000Z

Given that the word 'buffalo' is the name of an animal, a city in America where that animal could theoretically be found and a verb meaning to bully; the following sentence, invented by linguist William J. Rapaport, is grammatically correct: 'Buffalo buffalo Buffalo buffalo buffalo buffalo Buffalo buffalo.' The meaning is that buffalo from Buffalo who are buffaloed by other buffalo from Buffalo, themselves go on to buffalo a third group of buffalo from Buffalo. A tragic glimpse there into the vicious cycle of abuse rife in the bison community of upstate New York. William J. Rapaport, by the way, is an associate professor at the University of Buffalo. So, presumably, this is all based on an eye-witness account. Anyway, the point is... here is a drawing of a buffalo.

24 things I drew this month - Thing Two

2011-12-02T18:06:00.001Z

Pip pip.

By the way, if you happen to be going to the Hay on Wye Winter Festival this weekend, I will be there, doing this. Do come along.

24 things I drew this month - Thing One

2011-12-01T23:55:00.000Z

Ok, this blog needs a bit of a kick to get it moving again, so just for a month I'm going to turn it into a sketchbook-blog. Every day from today until Christmas Eve, I'm going to post something I've drawn that day. Like a sort of horrible advent calendar, only instead of charming pictures of robins and snowmen; dodgily shaded pictures of grumpy old men. Speaking of which...

It's of a man I sat opposite on the tube. I call it 'Man I Sat Opposite On The Tube'.

Interlude

2011-11-21T14:19:00.000Z

Sometimes in life, I feel it's important, as we are borne along by a constant tide of events; as we are bombarded with information and opinion on all sides, and try hopelessly to synthesise from it some sort of reasonably coherent personal philosophy; as we wrestle with our worries, our hopes and our fears for ourselves, our families, for mankind itself... that we find a moment to pause amidst the hurley-burley, and say, simply:

'Wow. That's a really big leaf.'

I mean, just look at it. It's huge!

And what's more, I got to meet Bernard Cribbins.

2011-11-18T00:07:00.001Z

Sorry for the pause - I will be back doing this more regularly soon. In the meantime, some quick Cabin Pressure / Own Trumpet Blowing news: I'm delighted to say that last night Cabin Pressure won the Writers' Guild award for Best Radio Comedy. Hooray!

Hooray also for the terrific Sam Bain, Jesse Armstrong and Simon Blackwell, who won the TV comedy award for Peep Show; and Howard Read, who won Best Children's Programme with this piece of brilliance.

I celebrated by eating far too many tiny spicy fishcakes, and taking home ten of the golden envelopes the nominations came in, for reasons that are now obscure to me. Good times.

I've told Douglas. He's over the moon.

I had a coffee in the end. 100% coffee.

2011-11-04T15:16:00.000Z

This was at the top of a dessert menu the other day:

I did, just about, manage to resist the temptation to ask the waiter if they had anything chocolatey.

Yet when I said the exact same thing in Tottenham three months ago, apparently THAT'S a criminal offence...

2011-10-31T23:55:00.001Z

Today, I heard a mother say this to her son:

'Look, a policeman! Go on, run up to him and give him a scare!'

Now, there's an example of a sentence which is only good parenting under certain very specific circumstances. About seven pm on Halloween; in a leafy middle-class bit of London, and when the son is four years old, and dressed as an adorable lion - OK. Pretty much any other time or place... not so great.

The other memorable sentence I overheard on my walk was: 'Ethan! Never mind about your sweets - just put your willy away!'

Conversations with robots.

2011-10-25T07:26:00.004+01:00

I have only just discovered that Blogger has a Spam folder, in which it filters out, but stores, the more obvious spam that is posted in the comments of these posts. However, reading through it, some of the comments there are so personal and human that they can't possibly be spam, and so I can only apologise for the error, and make amends by answering them here now.

Your site is great, and your story gives many other people strength. I marched on up to Post 1 just expecting the usual, but this hit the nail on the head

You're too kind! I hope you have now been given the strength to march right on up to post 2.

Drop in on us at times to grasp more information and facts in the matter.

I certainly will. Interestingly, this was very nearly the official slogan of the BBC News website.

We Really Should Get In Toch. Have you been an energetic person on leading social networking sites like Digg, Facebook, or Stumble Upon?

No, I haven't. You may be thinking of someone else. But I hope this doesn't make you reconsider Getting In Toch. (Also noteworthy: this person was selling ‘New Era Hats’ and ‘Canada Goose Coats’)

I definitely like the road you are posting! You receive an engaging sharp end of estimate!

I do, yes. Thank you for noticing. And you have a very nice road, too.

Do you think anyone will be champion of Euro 2012?

Yes, I think someone will.

Collection of some of your personal information is essential for completion of some of the functions and activities of this Website.

Oh, really? I mean... you do realise this is my website? You’re the one visiting me? But still, I expect you know best. Will my bank details, PIN, and mother’s maiden name be enough?

Someone told me to go onto the website www.dodgywebsite.con What exactly is this website and will it give me viruses?

Well, you certainly did the right thing by coming here to ask me. Safety first. Tell you what, I’ll just go to that website myself, and then let you know if I get any viruses. How does that sound?

You pretty much said what i could not effectively communicate.

Thank you, I’m touched. Though given what I said in this case was to announce the date and venue of a show I was doing, I’m not surprised you had trouble communicating it.

You most definitely have made this blog into something thats eye opening and important. You clearly know so much about the subject, you’ve covered so many bases. Great stuff from this part of the internet.

Aw, I'm blushing. Thank you very much, from this part of the internet.

Great article, but it would be better if in future you can share more about this subject. Keep rocking.

Excellent - good to get some constructive advice. Both about how to make my article better - share more about the subject! Of course! It seems so obvious now you say it! - and of course about whether or not I should continue to rock.

This is my first message. Please don't delete it.

Do not throw stones at this notice.

Others say it was laid out by the dinosaurs.

2011-10-16T11:40:00.000+01:00

This is from a leaflet about the small Portugese town I am in today:

'The year in which Loule was founded is unsure. There are historians who attribute its foundation to the Carthaginians (404 BC), while others defend a more contemporary origin, accrediting responsibility to the Romans.'

Wow. Like most unbearably smug Englishmen, I have in my time scoffed at American or Australian 'historic buildings' from the 1920s. But the boot's on the other foot now. Round here, if your town only dates back to Roman times, it is disappointingly contemporary...

(The leaflet also tells me, to my inexpressible disappointment, that the town's Museum of Dried Fruit is not open on Sundays.)

How to tell Scouts apart

2011-10-08T17:12:00.000+01:00

Before I go any further, I think the Scouts are basically a good thing. But I'm not so sure about this recruitment poster for them:

Is that actually a thing people say about the Scouts? That they all look the same? 'Oh, I was thinking of joining the Scouts, but I don't like the way they all look the same. Because if I don't look the way they all look, I might not fit in; but on the other hand if the way it works is that as soon as you're invested your face morphs to take on the standard Scout look, my parents might get confused, and pick up the wrong Scout from the milling hordes of identical Scouts outside the Scout hut.' No, I don't think it is, and I don't think the Scout Association should just make up things they pretend people think to debunk: 'Brownies are all allergic to feathers? Think again!' 'Cubs are all two foot tall with square heads and feet made of glass? Think again!'

Except, obviously, I know what this poster is really getting at. And to be honest, I think they should have the courage to come out and say it explicitly:

'All Scouts look the same? Think again! This one's black!'

Who would have thought a biscuit could be punchable?

2011-10-06T15:49:00.000+01:00

Hello, sorry it's been so long.

Now, I am a staunch biscuit supporter. Biscuits and me go way back. Biscuits can rely upon me as one of their staunchest supporters / devourers. Which makes it all the more painful when a biscuit betrays this trust by having something this nauseating written on it:

Oh, god. That's so hateful I very nearly didn't eat the biscuit.

Very nearly.

I somehow don't think there'd be many giant pink sea-snails

2011-09-22T23:47:00.000+01:00

I am planning a trip away at the moment, but haven't decided where yet. On a whim, and with memories of Rex Harrison sticking a pin in a globe in 'Dr Doolittle', I thought I'd try a modern version: put my birth date and today's date into Google Earth as global co-ordinates, and go wherever in the world the virtual pin popped up:

Yeah. Or, I might not do that.

John Finnemore's Souvenir Programme - Episode One

2011-09-19T16:15:00.002+01:00

Right. This is it, then. The one thing I have always most wanted to do in comedy is write and perform my own radio sketch show, and… now I have. I really hope I haven’t messed it up. (To find out if I have, and if so how much, listen to Radio 4 at 7.15 on Sunday nights, or go here.) It was always specifically a radio sketch show I wanted to do - much as I loved TV comedy growing up, it was listening to things like On The Hour, People Like Us and Harry Hill’s Fruit Corner on the radio; and cassettes of things like I’m Sorry I’ll Read That Again, Hitchhiker’s Guide, and Pete and Dud, that really made me wish I could find a way to be allowed to do that when I grew up, as opposed to, say, a proper job. There’s something about the idea of a gang of people clustered round a microphone trying to make the audience and each other laugh that I particularly loved - in fact, we recorded this show round one central mike, rather than the usual method these days of having one each, more or less entirely (whatever I might have said to the cast at the time) so that I could pretend I was in The Goon Show.

There’s no theme to the show - I felt that if I was going to write every sketch myself, which I was egomaniacally keen to do, I couldn’t really afford to restrict myself to one subject area or even style. So, there are sketches, like Before You're Thirty, which, if not exactly satirical, at least have a point to make; there are sketches like To Rerecord Your Message which come entirely from character, and there are sketches like Three Guards, which are just silly and fun. I hope. Also, there are no returning characters. The rule is that one sketch can return up to three times in an episode, but nothing appears in more than one episode… with the exception of the stories at the end.

The stories at the end are something I’ve been doing on the live sketch circuit in London for a while, and started as a parody of the great ghost story writer M.R. James, and in particular an audiobook of his stories read by Derek Jacobi, which I urge you to download if you like that sort of thing. Jacobi reads it perfectly, and part of reading it perfectly is that he - I’m sure deliberately - invests the narrator with an incredibly pompous cosiness which I find very funny. As I’ve written more of them, the style has widened out to be a bit John Buchan, a bit H.G.Wells, and a bit R.L.Stevenson - in fact any of those writers between about 1885 and 1939 who wrote stories in which chaps who only ever refer to one another by their surnames are reluctantly persuaded by other chaps at the club to tell tall stories in which, despite their apparent modesty, they feel able to say things like this (from a Buchan short story):

‘I learnt to walk in the Himalayas, and the little Saxon hills seemed to me inconsiderable, but they were too much for most of the men.’

Mainly though, let’s be honest, these sketches are a homage (rip-off) of the Round the Horne or ISIRTA tradition of ending with a daft gang-show ‘play’: an opportunity for the cast to do even more than usually stupid voices, and me to do even more than usually stupid jokes and puns - and let me straight away acknowledge the glaringly obvious influences of Police Squad, Mark Evans’ Bleak Expectations, and Stephen Fry’s famous ‘Letter’ sketch: ‘Of all the hideous disfigured spectacles I have ever beheld, those perched on the end of this man’s nose remain forever pasted into the album of my memory.’

What else? Well, since people seemed to like the notebook photos when I blogged Cabin Pressure episodes, here is the page of my notebook in which I came up with the ‘Tardis Noise’ sketch - which I did, as I often do, by writing something that annoys me in the middle of the page, and seeing what happened next. Two things I find interesting about what happened in this case - firstly, the false start with the princess who wants to be a police dog handler, which is a perfectly decent starting point, but didn’t seem to go anywhere. Had I written it, that one would have been a more straight-forward attack on the Follow Your Dream thing that annoyed me in the first place, whereas the Tardis one isn’t really about that at all, it’s a character-driven story. Secondly, how late in the construction of the sketch the Tardis noise itself entered the picture - for most of its development, it seems to have been a sketch about dodgem cars.

That’s it. I can’t quite believe my luck in having got the chance to do this show; I’m really proud of it; and I very much hope you enjoy it.

Stuff I'm doing, have done, will do, or have seen.

2011-09-16T19:27:00.002+01:00

So, I haven't posted here for ages, and now I'm here it's just to plug things and show off. This is not, I realise, the way to win friends and influence people. Sorry. Still, here goes.

Firstly. The reason I haven't been here this week is that I have been filming a pilot for a TV sitcom, which, if it gets made, will be incredibly exciting, at least for me. But what a big if that 'if' is. Also, I have fallen in love with two of the cast. This is pretty awkward, as you can imagine, but what can I say - the heart wants what it wants.

Secondly. My sketch show is about to start on Radio Four! It's called John Finnemore's Souvenir Programme, it begins on Sunday at 19.15, and I really hope you like it. I will try to do a blog for each episode, the way I did for Cabin Pressure.

Speaking of which... thirdly, Cabin Pressure has been nominated for a Writer's Guild Award. Hooray.

And now, as a small reward for making it through all the self-promotion, here is a sign from the pub we filmed in on day two.

The five kisses / censorship of the five letter place you're not allowed to put a pet in is pretty good, but the exclamation mark before 'pet' is twisted genius. And don't tell me the author is a native Spanish speaker. It's not upside down, it's in the middle of the sentence, and there's none at the end.
Can you ?explain that XXXXX

Mwarrhahahahaharrr Inc.

2011-09-04T00:00:00.000+01:00

Look, I'm not saying that the organisation within the imposing central London building which has these lamps flanking its entranceway is definitely evil. All I'm saying is, they're clearly very relaxed indeed about giving that impression.

In case it's not clear from that picture, this is what's going on at the bottom:

Nice touch with the cloven hooves there, guys. And this is what's going on at the top:

Mm. Welcoming.

Everything in the garden is rosy.

2011-08-29T05:42:00.001+01:00

You might imagine that being the spring on a garden gate would be a rather boring, cheerless existence, which over the years would crush the spirit of even the most joyful soul.

But apparently not.

Extra Souvenir Programme try-out this Saturday!

2011-08-25T15:34:00.000+01:00

Hooray, the venue have confirmed - there WILL be an extra try-out date for my sketch show: 5pm this Saturday (the 27th) at the Albany, Great Portland Street, W1W 5QU. (I know, matinee! Classy, huh?) Better still, I'm trying out a new way of taking bookings that doesn't involve massive booking fees: go here to book.

And even then, only if things get more delicious if there's more of them. Which they don't.

2011-08-24T23:56:00.000+01:00

Sorry for the silence - it's still unusually busy around here. For instance, this Saturday, there will be another informal try-out of new material for my sketch show. It will be earlier than usual, starting at 5pm, and it will almost certainly be at the Albany, unless I find out tomorrow (Thursday) that it will have to be somewhere else. Watch this space for confirmation, and instructions how to get tickets - the good news is it won't be through that place with the exorbitant booking charges.

In the meantime, here's something spotted by my friend Karl:

...As opposed, presumably, to their previous policy of putting two thirds of a bar in each pack.

By the way...

2011-08-10T17:59:00.001+01:00

My Radio 4 sketch show, John Finnemore's Souvenir Programme, is being recorded on the 16th August and the 6th September at Broadcasting House. The tickets for the first recording have gone now; the tickets for the second haven't been released yet, BUT free tickets for the try-out show this Saturday, 13th August, at the Albany are available here. Come along!

UPDATE

Ooh. Those went quickly. If I know you, and you would like to come to either of the recordings, please email me on my personal email. If I don't know you, but you came to two or more of the Albany try-outs, applied for tickets to the recordings, and didn't get them; email me on cabin pressure (all one word) at john finnemore (all one word) dot com, and I'll see what can be done. No promises...

Goose smoothies all round.

2011-08-05T18:01:00.001+01:00

St Petersburg, the final episode of the third series of Cabin Pressure, is now available here. Spoilers for it follow.

Well, I thought it was about time I did an exciting final episode. Both the final episodes of the first two series were 'shut-in' ones; the main characters alone, passing the time, annoying each other, playing games, and with a bit of character revelation. I really like episodes like that, but this time I fancied doing a proper finale, with actual peril, both with the emergency at the beginning, and with the threat to the company. One thing I like about it is that when Douglas says he hasn't got any ideas, and can't save them, he's telling the truth. It's only when he realises Gordon's plan that he sees how to turn it to his advantage. I also like that in an actual bona fide emergency, Martin is capable of coping with it, and Douglas is capable of letting him.

God, wasn't Timothy West good? I wanted someone who could equally well do genial and disarming at first, to make the guys (and us) wonder what Carolyn and Arthur are making such a fuss about - and then suddenly drop into sheer bastardry for his big speech. Trying to describe the character to David the producer before he'd seen the script, I believe I said: 'Well, if it was a film, you'd get Timothy West'. Still can't believe we actually did! And Paul Shearer! Only about six words to say as Tommo, but got a laugh on every single one! I felt at the time it was a terrible waste of such a funny actor (though he was also St. Pete ATC), but you can't argue with a laugh-per-utterance average like that.

Not much in the way of deleted scenes this time - or rather, there was one massive one: a four page long conversation between Martin and Douglas in the canteen about their fathers, but losing that meant we were able to keep everything else more or less intact. I won't post that, because I might use it in the future. The only other thing I slightly regret losing is the bit where Gordon, when he still seemed nice and reasonable, conned Carolyn not only into letting him book the office where they meet in MJN's name, but into thinking he was making a concession to her in so doing. I won't put that up either, though- instead I'll put up this very small cut from Gordon's first scene.

GORDON: Just got in. Bloody hell, the crosswind, eh? Hairiest landing I’ve had for years!

MARTIN: Yeah! You should try doing it on one engine!

GORDON: Jeez, I wouldn’t want to! Did you?

MARTIN: No, I didn’t!

GORDON: Oh. Right, I was gonna say!

MARTIN: No, I mean, I didn’t want to either.

DOUGLAS: ...However, he absolutely did. Rather well, actually.

Anywhere but home.

2011-08-04T22:53:00.001+01:00

Ok, it's looking suspiciously like there will not, in fact, be a Rotterdam blog - there just hasn't been enough time and energy this week. Sorry about that if you were looking forward to it - I will definitely do a St. Petersburg one tomorrow. And if time and energy permits, I may do Rotterdam another time.

Also, if you would like to come and see the first recording of my new, and STILL untitled, Radio 4 sketch show, you can apply for free tickets here. It's at 7.15 on the 16th August, in, I'm afraid, London. (I'm not really afraid. I'm glad it's in London. That's where I live.)

But I have learnt something: the plural of cheetah.

2011-07-29T21:46:00.001+01:00

There will be a Rotterdam post, but I'm afraid probably not for a few days. These are busy times, for both good and bad reasons. In the meantime, here's a sign I saw in a zoo recently. You'll probably have to click it to read it.

'A number of methods to find out where the cheetah live'. Impressive. Including method 1: Seeing where the cheetah are; and method 4: asking if anyone else have seen where the cheetah are.

I wish I could find the setting for 'Jelly Babies to Automatic'...

2011-07-22T14:44:00.002+01:00

Ottery St Mary is now available here. I have to say, I do like this episode. It might be my favourite this series, or that might be St. Petersburg; but for very different reasons. This one I like because it's silly and cheerful and fun; and for most of it, everyone gets on rather well and enjoys one another's company. You can't do that often in a sitcom, or it gets dull, but it's nice once in a while.

In the first draft, it was designed to be the counterpart to Johannesburg, in which the cast are for half the episode split Douglas and Carolyn / Martin and Arthur. And of course there are several episodes where the split is Martin and Douglas / Carolyn and Arthur; so I thought I'd try the other possible pairing. The version I wrote worked fine, but it just seemed such a shame to do a 'Martin's van' episode without Martin in the van. So I took it apart, rewrote the road trip section to include Martin, and came up with a new plot for Carolyn. Then, at the recordings, this was the other episode recorded the week Benedict was ill. However, the cast all very kindly agreed to re-do the Martin scenes at the end of the third recording - and Tom very very kindly agreed to perform Martin on stage, even though he knew it wouldn't go out. Which meant I got to hear the script performed as if for real, in front of an audience... but with two weeks to improve it with rewrites and cuts, which was an incredible luxury. So, this has had more rewriting time than any other episode, and not coincidentally it's one of my favourites. You just cannot rewrite too much. Even now I'd like another pass at it - why on earth did I make Herc's sports car green rather than yellow? Idiot.

Another rewriting story - the design of the Herc / Carolyn story was always that they would alternate having the upper hand in their skirmishes, and first time round this meant when it got to the sheep scene, it needed to be Carolyn with the phobia, and Herc mocking her. Which didn't work at all - Carolyn seemed out-of-character, and Herc seemed bullying and unpleasant. But when I finally realised what the problem was, and restructured it so they could swap, it worked fine. Interesting that even with a female character you've spent two and a half series establishing as strong to the point of fearsome; 'woman is scared of sheep' just fundamentally isn't as funny as 'man is scared of sheep'.

When I was first creating the show, in 2005 (!), my working title for MJN Air was 'Icarus Airways'. Once Carolyn's character became more developed, I realised reluctantly she'd never be daft enough to call it that. But I know a man who would...

For the origin of the otter-imagining game, have a look at this blog post I wrote three years ago. I like that I titled it 'I am supposed to be writing a sitcom.' Little did I know I was bunking off writing Cabin Pressure series one to write a bit of Cabin Pressure series three.

I like that, although I know 99.9% of the audience wouldn't remember, Snoopadoop's name (and Carolyn's soppiness about her) is actually mentioned in the very first episode. Snoopadoop, by the way, is named after a poodle puppy I met at the Edinburgh festival in about 2004, and so whom is probably still around. So if you're here because you got bored and googled your dog's name, hello, and thank you!

This week's 'deleted scene' is from near the end, when they're at Ottery St Mary's (non-existant, by the way) airfield, and realise the pub is a mile away:

DOUGLAS: ...yes, yes, alright. Let’s start pushing.

MARTIN: Thank you so much! Except of course... I can’t really push. Because of my ankle?

DOUGLAS: Alright. Arthur and I will push. You can walk alongside

MARTIN: ...I don’t think I can. Not for a mile. Again, the ankle.

DOUGLAS Then what do you suggest?

MARTIN Well… I thought perhaps, if I were to do this…

FX INDISTINCT NOISE

DOUGLAS: Ah. I see. ‘Hello Ottery St Mary. Please welcome Douglas Richardson and Arthur Shappey, and joining them, on the piano, Martin Crieff.’

Newcastle

2011-07-19T23:48:00.001+01:00

Just a quick-ish and late one on Newcastle (available here ), I'm afraid, because real life is still in the way a bit.

Every series, it seems, one episode causes me more trouble and hair-tearing than any two and a half of the others combined. In series one it was Cremona - my God that plot took some wrestling to get down to twenty-eight minutes. In series two it was Kuala Lumpur, which if I'm honest I still don't think I ever got quite right. This series it was Newcastle. And it's always the same problem: way, way too much plot, resulting in a nine thousand word monster of a draft which I somehow have to boil down to about 5,600. I didn't quite manage it with Newcastle, either, so there's a lot on the cutting room floor this week. What annoys me about it is that I realised when it was too late that actually, the problem was that there's the material for two perfectly good episodes in it - one based around flying Herc and Linda; and one based around Martin getting on the wrong side of an engineer. Apart from anything else, it's a shame to cram three such brilliant guest stars all into one episode, rather than giving them room to breathe. Oh well. I'll know better next time. (I won't.) This is all sounding very negative, isn't it - I still really like the episode.

And then, of course, the morning before the recording, we got the call from Benedict's agent saying she was terribly sorry, but he simply had no voice left at all (you can hear he's suffering a bit in some of the other episodes). So hooray for the tremendous Tom Goodman-Hill, who I think does a terrific job of being a Martin that's not just a pale copy of Benedict's, but on the other hand doesn't feel like a jarring leap away from his. And hooray for Benedict, Roger and Stephanie for very decently agreeing to re-record Martin's scenes in the next episode, Ottery St. Mary, so that Ben-Martin could appear in five out of the six episodes. Isn't everyone great? Arthur's right: other people are brilliant.

Speaking of Arthur, here's some more of his Monopoly game:

CAROLYN: He also once did a deal whereby he gave Martin Mayfair, so long as he was also allowed to give him the Electric Company.

ARTHUR: Well, I kept having to times things by four! That’s not fun, that’s maths! Anyway, I’m still playing!

CAROLYN: Of course you are. Indeed it’s your go.

FX: DICE THROWN

ARTHUR: Twenty-forth go in jail. Are you sure I can’t just pay fifty pounds to get out, Herc?

HERC: You wanted to be the little dog.

ARTHUR: I’m always the little dog.

HERC: And everyone knows the little dog can’t pay to get out of prison. You just have to wait till you get a Get Out Of Jail Free card.

ARTHUR: But how can I get one when I’m in jail?

HERC: Well, that’s exactly why you should never be the little dog.

Also, Allington Nursery and... what?

2011-07-15T19:52:00.000+01:00

Hello. There will be a 'Newcastle' post, but not until Monday. Real life is in the way. In the meantime, though, and from the same cycle ride as the Salad Depot, the most English 'advert' imaginable.

I was going to crop it to just the top half, which is the bit that made me take the photo. But actually, I like the bottom half as well. 'Showroom'?

Ever wondered where salad comes from?

2011-07-14T14:07:00.000+01:00

Well, now you know.

(By the way, it's almost time for my sketch night again. 8pm. The Albany, Great Portland Street. Sketches, by me, in a show. Come!)

Preaching to the choir.

2011-07-11T12:29:00.001+01:00

This is a transcript of a piece I recorded for The Now Show on Thursday 7th July, the day it was announced the News of the World was closing. For the full show, go here. This transcript includes material which was recorded but not broadcast, for reasons of time.

Corrections:

1) It's not News International itself that is seeking to own BSkyB, rather its parent company News Corporation.

2) The government has to decide whether the takeover threatens media plurality; Ofcom alone will judge whether News Corps are 'fit and proper persons'.

It seems more honest to put these corrections here rather than changing the text of the piece. I regret the errors, but don't believe either materially affect the argument I'm making.

JOHN So. Does anyone remember the News of the World? No? It was a newspaper that was around when I was a kid, and also an adult. Tabloid, came out on a Sunday, a bit like the Sun on Sunday, but obviously totally different and separate and not the same at all. Anyway, I seem to remember it had to close in the end, after some scandal about hacking a murdered schoolgirl’s phone. And it was a News International paper, I think, so it’s a good job it’s not around this week, when the Government and Ofcom have to decide if News International are ‘fit and proper persons’ to own BSkyB! That would be awful for them! But it’s not, it’s closed and over and done with and finished and shut and in the past and not relevant to anything any more. Which is lucky.

Now, I’m aware, as I start this piece, of something Tom Lehrer once said about protest song singers: that it takes a certain amount of courage to get up in a coffee house and come out in favour of the things everyone else is against, like peace and love and brotherhood and so on. I feel a bit like that now; here I am on Radio Four to register my controversial view that hacking and / or deleting messages from the phones of murder victims, terrorism survivors or dead soldiers is... a bit off. I mean, that is very much my opinion, but I fear I might be preaching to the choir. And what a choir it is! From Ed Miliband...

MILLIBAND Immoral!

JOHN …David Cameron…

CAMERON Disgusting!

JOHN ...Rebekah Brooks...

BROOKS Disgraceful!

JOHN ...to Rupert Murdoch

MURDOCH Deplorable!

JOHN ...it seemed this week as if no-one had a good word to say for the practice of eavesdropping on murder victims. Honestly, we’re all so united in hating it, it’s surprising really it ever happened. No-one seems in favour, not even Rebekah Brooks, whom I assume as editor of the paper that paid for it, must have…? No! No, apparently I’m wrong. She’s totally unconnected with it, and didn’t know, and didn’t see, and no-one told her, and she was on holiday, and anyway she had a different name then so it doesn’t count. In fact, she went to far as to say to her employees:

BROOKS I hope that you all realise it is inconceivable that I knew or worse, sanctioned these appalling allegations.’

JOHN So, there you go - it is inconceivable. It actually cannot be conceived. The imagination, faced with the challenge of inventing some kind of madcap fictional world in which Rebekah Brooks knew where a story in the paper she edited came from, just gives up. It’s like trying to imagine an undiscovered colour or five dimensional space. We can demonstrate this now, actually. Try, just as a thought experiment, try to conceive that Rebekah Brooks, as her former employee Paul McMullan maintains, knew full well that Glenn Mulcaire was illegally hacking phones. [PAUSE] Any luck? No, me neither. Interesting, by the way, that ‘I hope you realise it is inconceivable that I knew…’ is not quite the same, legally, as ‘I didn’t know’. And of course that’s not all - it’s also being alleged that News International have in the past paid the police for information. Presumably Rebekah Brooks thinks this is inconceivable as well. Certainly, when asked about it by Chris Bryant MP in 2003, she was less then candid. This is what she said:

BROOKS We have paid the police for information in the past.

JOHN Oh, I’m sorry, I meant she was totally candid. She told the government select committee that that illegal act is what she did. Just to remind you, the government have to decide if News International are fit and proper persons to own BSkyB. Now, to be fair, Andy Coulson was also there, and he leapt in to clarify:

COULSON We operate within the code and within the law.

JOHN He said. Oh, within the law? Phew! That’s a relief! But Chris Bryant is a bit slow, and said:

BRYANT It’s illegal for police officers to receive payments.

JOHN To which Coulson replied:

COULSON No no no, we don’t- As I said, within the law.

JOHN Yes, he said it was within the law! Weren’t you listening, Chris Bryant? It can’t be illegal if it was done within the law, by definition. You’re thinking of those illegal police bribes everyone else does, this was a police bribe within the law. They’re fine! Out of interest, though, I wonder which law it was done within? Because obviously it wasn’t done within the hundred year old law against making or accepting a payment to a police officer for information collected in the course of duty. It must be within some other law, maybe that one about abating a smoky chimney.

Anyway, something, the whole of the choir agree, was deeply wrong at the News of the World - you remember, the ancient and historical paper which used to exist once, but doesn’t now, so that’s fine - under the editorship of Rebekah Wade. And who better to investigate it than the chief executive of News International, Rebekah Brooks? No-one. No-one knows Rebekah Wade better than Rebekah Brooks. They go way back. In the words of comedy henchman Simon Greenberg, when Jon Snow asked how she could investigate herself:

GREENBERG When we’ve got the facts, we’ll investigate how that can be possible.

JOHN It’s as simple as that. She’ll investigate, get the facts, and when she’s got the facts, she can investigate how it’s possible for her to have investigated them. I mean, it certainly saves on manpower. I just worry she’s working too hard, poor girl. Because she’s going to have to ask herself some tough questions, really rake herself over the coals. Naturally, at first she’ll try to evade herself, but she knows all her tricks, and once she sees she means business, she’ll crack, and before long she’ll tell her everything she knows about what she did, and she’ll listen very carefully, and write it all down in a little book.

The only problem is, there surely can’t be anything to discover, because after all News International looked into it two years ago when the first Guardian reports came out, and they told the PCC quite clearly that these were the actions of one rogue reporter, and there was no evidence anyone else at the News of the World was involved in phone hacking. (By the way, the government have to decide if News International are fit and proper persons to run BSkyB.) And if there’s no evidence, there’s no evidence. I mean, where else could they look? Well, comedy henchman Greenberg had an answer to that too, this time on the Today Programme, where he was at pains to stress that News International was:

GREENBERG ‘in a fully co-operative mode with the police, as we have been since January.’

JOHN Is it me, or doesn’t that slightly raises the question of what sort of mode they were in before January? Although, to be fair, it is beginning to sound like their relationship with the police has for some time been very co-operative… almost to a fault. Anyway, Mr Greenberg has had a bright idea where to look for this evidence which News International were adamant in 2009 did not exist. He said:

GREENBERG ‘The Milly Dowler information, that’s something we weren’t aware of, we obviously want to see what information we might have in our archives’

JOHN Oh, the archives! Of course! The place where we put the records of stuff that happened in the past! Now you mention it, that’s the very place to look! The dusty old News International archives, [ANCIENT ARCHIVIST VOICE] wherein we repose the huge leather-bound volumes of sent emails, which can in no way [VOICE OUT] be searched electronically for the word ‘Dowler’ or ‘hack into the murdered girl’s phone’, but must instead [VOICE BACK IN] be searched very very slowly by the senior archivist with his trusty magnifying glass.

And they’d better do a good job, because if they don’t, they will face the wrath of the mighty Press Complaints Commission, which has already done so much to prevent this situation, and which is now prepared to savage them as only a voluntary self-regulating body with no legal powers or sanctions can. Their chairman, Lady Buscombe, has been all over the place this week, defending the PCC from charges that they have basically the same powers and influence as Father Ted and Dougal outside that cinema.

TED Down with this sort of thing!

DOUGAL Careful now!

JOHN When Andrew Neill asked her to name ‘one useful thing’ she’d done since the scandal broke, she replied that she had ‘demanded to see all the proprietors’. Which ought to do the trick nicely, if, as I assume, the proprietors all share a debilitating phobia of seeing Lady Buscombe. Though of course if they do… they can just refuse to see her. Whereas Ofcom, the statuary regulator that controls broadcast media, can impose heavy fines, or even refuse to grant a licence to a broadcaster if it feels they are not fit and proper persons to have one. Something that’s being decided right now, as it happens, about News International, as I may have said.

But anyway, isn’t it all academic now? The News of the World has gone! We won! They made the supreme sacrifice and killed it off. Yeah, they have. In other, unrelated news, here’s what Rebekah Brooks said on the 28th June this year, announcing the appointment of Richard Caseby in the new role of managing editor of the Sun and the News of the World.

BROOKS We will take a comprehensive look at where there is common ground across our titles. Where there is common ground we will find ways of implementing efficiencies and, where appropriate, we will find ways of introducing seven day working.

JOHN ‘Seven day working’. Now, a cynic might read that as evidence News International were already planning to merge the papers at least a fortnight before this happened, and this announcement is just disguising a pre-made decision as sack-cloth and ashes, whilst clearing the way for the launch of a Sun on Sunday with no baggage, in which all the advertisers they’ve lost this week can cheerfully re-advertise with clean hands. Not to say that this isn’t a huge deal, with the loss of hundreds of jobs - though of course largely the jobs of people who had nothing to do with phone-hacking, rather than the job of, say, to pick an example at random, Rebekah Brooks; who also had nothing to do with it, as we’ve established, but perhaps in a slightly more pointed way than some. What it certainly doesn’t prove is that News International are very very sorry. What it proves is that they really, really want BSkyB.

JOHN So, there we are, I’ve stood in front of a Radio Four audience and told them hacking into the phones of murdered children isn’t very nice, and nor is Rebekah Brooks, which are two things you all thought already. What was the point of that? Well, actually, this time, I think there is a point. I often complain about how politicians endlessly go on about ‘listening to the people’, as if the people always speak with one voice, and as if the politicians hadn’t already made up their minds what they were going to hear.

But this time is different, and unusual, and important. The stark, undeniable wrongness of the Milly Dowler case has unified our voice, and this time they really are listening to us. Most of the people concerned, broadly speaking, didn’t and don’t want to do anything about this. Milliband didn’t want to make an enemy of Murdoch; Cameron didn’t want to have an inquiry; James Murdoch didn’t want to end the News of the World just yet, though he would have done soon. But they all changed their minds this week, because we shouted louder than they expected. And now, they’re waiting to see if that’s enough. Are we going to take the nice neat ending to the story that’s been offered to us, and go on to the next shiny thing nest week, or do they actually have to do something significant?

So this is a moment in time where I think there is actually a point to being like Tom Lehrer’s protest singer, and loudly making a fuss about what we already know we all believe, because people who didn’t think we actually cared that much are listening. So, let’s keep it up. Let’s not get distracted. Let’s not fall for the ‘The paper you hated… has gone! Behold the totally fresh and uncontaminated Sun on Sunday!’ trick. Let’s keep signing petitions, keep pestering advertisers. Let’s remember no-one has denied Milly Dowler’s messages were listened to and deleted by a man paid by News International, let’s not forget the chief exec of that company has told the House of Commons she paid the police for information; let’s chip in with our helpful opinions about whether she and it are therefore fit and proper persons to own the largest commercial broadcaster in the country. Let’s keep the pressure up, keep the chorus of disapproval going, because right now we have a rare and genuine opportunity to tell the people who influence our lives, elected or not, what sort of media ethics we’re prepared to tolerate, right now we can make a difference, right now - if we don’t lose our focus- the choir get to preach back.

Stage direction: [DING] Ding! [DING] Ding! [DING] Ding!

2011-07-09T20:23:00.000+01:00

Paris, episode two of Cabin Pressure, is available here for the next six days. Massive spoilers for this episode follow. Don't read on if you haven't heard the episode, and think you might want to.

First, to give those guys time to leave, thank you so much for all the nice comments about my piece about the News of the World on The Now Show this week. I cannot think of anything I've ever written that's got quite such a reaction. Tomorrow, outrageously big-headed though it seems, I'll put a transcript of it up here, including some of the bits that didn't make the edit.

But back in Paris, or at least on the way to Paris... did I fool you? I hope so. I love whodunnits, they are my trashy fiction of choice, especially the 'golden age' thirties and forties ones, and I've wanted to do a whodunnit episode of Cabin Pressure for ages - even before Captain Crieff took on his secret identity on BBC1. For a long time, this episode had a totally different plot and solution, and was all about Mr Alyakhin (from the Christmas special) and his party of rich yacht buyers losing some sort of priceless jewel on a trip to look at massive yachts in Palma. But the problem was, I always knew I wanted Douglas to be the culprit; and I couldn't quite believe in him actually stealing a valuable thing from a passenger, however unpleasant I made them. And then I remembered Birling Day, which meant I could also bring back Geoffrey Whitehead as a guest star, who is simply one of my favourite comedy actors.

I decided early on there would be no mention of the S word, or indeed the H word, still less the 'E, MDW' phrase. But that didn't mean there couldn't be, maybe, a couple of sly references... Benedict was an incredibly good sport about it all, especially given the audience was full of Sherlock fans. Though he did give me quite a look at the first read-through when we got to 'Wow, Skip! You're just like Miss Marple!'

A few people have asked me about Martin's money situation at the end - I did explain this in the script at one point, but as always I had to cut loads to fit it to 28 minutes. Anyway, yes, it's possible that Martin does not have to tell Carolyn that he lost the bet, given that Birling got the whisky in the end, and can claim his hundred pounds off her. However, personally, I think Martin's too decent; Douglas too boastful; and Arthur too incapable of lying for her not to find out the truth pretty quickly. However, Martin gets a thousand pound pearl off Birling, plus a fifty pound tip, so even if he pays up to Carolyn he comes out £950 ahead on the trip, which should buy him plenty of baked potatoes. So I think it's a happy ending for him.

Somebody asked why Carolyn opened the bottle at the start - so that she (and we) could be absolutely certain it was the genuine whisky seconds before being put into Martin's hands. After that, only Martin and Arthur touch the bottle before it's poured.

I'm very pleased a couple of people said they thought the guilty party was Mr Birling's wife. That's absolutely what she was there for. I hoped a lot of people trying to guess the solution would hit upon the Carolyn solution Douglas tries to sell Martin, and that others, if I introduced one other character early on, who was studiously never accused by anyone, would go for them. But really, of course, once Douglas has said he's going to steal a bottle of whisky... it always had to be Douglas. Hence this bit of dialogue which didn't make the edit:

MARTIN Stop doing that! I admit you have a sort of underhand sneakiness…

DOUGLAS A brilliant flair for strategy and subterfuge.

MARTIN ...at your disposal, but what I have that you don’t, and which you always underestimate, is that I am meticulous and methodical. And it seems to me that so long as I make sure there is never even a moment on the trip when I’m not watching you, or the whisky, or both; then however clever you are, I can’t see how you’ll take it.

DOUGLAS Of course you can’t ‘see how I’ll take it’! I’d hardly be a criminal mastermind if you could ‘see how I’ll take it’! But I will take it.

Happy Birling Day

2011-07-08T10:05:00.002+01:00

Just a quick one, to say there's plenty of me on Radio Four today. Perhaps too much. New Cabin Pressure at 11:30, featuring the return of the mighty and hilarious Geoffrey Whitehead as Mr Birling; and then on the Now Show at 6:30 I get to express my important opinions about the News of the World hacking Milly Dowler's phone. Sneak preview: I'm broadly against it.

Family stuff to do today, so I'll put my 'Paris' post up tomorrow. Hope you enjoy it!

He also invented the petard.

2011-07-04T14:36:00.001+01:00

This is Sir Robert Watson-Watt, who described himself in his autobiography as:

'a sixth rate mathematician, a second rate physicist, a second rate engineer, and a bit of a meteorologist, something of a journalist, a plausible salesman of ideas, interested in politics, liking to believe there is some poetry in my physics, some physics in my politics.'

He may have been a little modest there. Watson-Watt is generally credited with the invention of radar; and certainly with the system of detecting aircraft with it, and the chain of radar stations on the south coast of England, which is often cited as the reason the British won the Battle of Britain; which in turn is often cited as the turning point of the war. Imagine what he might have achieved if he'd been a fifth rate mathematician...

Anyway, I bring him to your attention today because later in life he was stopped for speeding by a policeman, using a radar gun. I think it's safe to say the irony was not lost on him.

ROUGH JUSTICE

by Robert Watson-Watt.

Pity Sir Robert Watson-Watt,
strange target of this radar plot

And thus, with others I can mention,
victim of his own invention.

His magical all-seeing eye
enabled cloud-bound planes to fly

but now by some ironic twist
it spots the speeding motorist

and bites, no doubt with legal wit,
the hand that once created it.

And so, all you courageous boffins
who may be nailing up your coffins,
(particularly those whose mission
is in the realm of nuclear fission)
pause and mull fate’s counter plot
and learn with us what’s Watson-Watt.

'Ours Blanc'. Or 'Ours Polaire'

2011-07-01T14:44:00.000+01:00

Qikiqtarjuaq, the first episode in the new series of Cabin Pressure, is available here for the next seven days.

It wasn't written as the first episode, but unfortunately Benedict Cumberbatch lost his voice for the recording of the one that was meant to be first. And brilliant though Tom Goodman-Hill was in the part, it seemed odd to begin the series without one of the usual cast, so we tinkered with the episode order. It was between this one and Paris for episode one, but I think this is a more typical 'in the plane, taking some people to a place' story, which is a useful way to begin. Also, because Martin and Douglas fall out, their relationship in this episode is more like the prickly one they had in series one, rather than the increasingly friendly one in series two, which again I like as a way of introducing new listeners to what is supposed to be funny about the sit of this com.

Martin's polar bear lecture is one of the very few times a whole piece has just come to me quite naturally and fluently. I usually find writing very difficult indeed - every sentence has to be dragged out of me, and then endlessly rewritten. But this time I was out walking along the canal, trying to think of ideas for the speech to write up when I got home, and instead I ended up practically dictating it into my phone, comedy French accent and all. Even when I hear it now, I can picture where along the canal I was when I said that bit. Here's an extra couple of lines from it that we had to cut in the edit to fit:

DOUGLAS: Remind me, who was it the French were fighting in Alaska?

MARTIN: ... Ah'm afraid zis information is still classified.

Oh, and doing the credits in the accent was entirely Benedict's idea! I love it, especially 'D'veed Tylar'

Prepare boarding passes.

2011-06-30T16:01:00.002+01:00

So, tomorrow at 11:30am on BBC Radio 4, and thereafter on iPlayer, it is finally time for this:

Hope you enjoy it. I'm going to try to put up a little post about each episode on the day of each episode. Let's see how well I manage to stick to that.

And the day after, Saturday July 2nd, it's time for this again:

Hope you can come. And if you do, hope you enjoy that too.

With soundtrack by zombie Whitney Houston.

2011-06-23T18:42:00.001+01:00

At the moment, the BBC news website is grouping these two stories together:

Nothing especially noteworthy about that, though it's fun to imagine the first story will not be about a type of wasp which has been discovered to do this; but is news of a particular wasp, and a particular ladybird.

But then, with both headlines rattling round in your brain, you click the second story, and see this:

Now, I've never seen a zombie bodyguard, but my God, that is surely pretty much exactly what one would look like in action (click photo to see the full effect.) Which, I suppose, raises a challenging and important question.

Is the Queen a wasp?

Just 'partly', though?

2011-06-19T15:23:00.000+01:00

Turned on the radio just now, and heard this exchange:

'What is it about these limestone pavements that makes them so endangered? Why are they so threatened?'

'Well, partly it's because there aren't many of them.'

...Yep. His story checks out.

Next on the agenda: my autumn wardrobe.

2011-06-14T16:37:00.000+01:00

Awful advert I saw yesterday but couldn't take a picture of:

Picture of the drink in question. Slogan:

Your summer refreshment. Nailed.

Well, thank the ruddy God for that. I don't mind telling you, this whole issue of my summer refreshment was shaping up to be a major balls ache, which is basically the last thing I bloody need right now, and I'm frankly deeply chuffed to hear the issue's been well and truly nailed before it could become a major trauma.

Sandra, get that useless bugger Mike on the blower, tell him to call in the summer refreshment task force and fire their sorry arses. The thing's been nailed.

Admin

2011-06-10T17:54:00.001+01:00

I am on the Now Show on Radio Four tonight at 6:30 (repeated tomorrow at 12.25). I mention Henry Campbell-Bannerman. I wonder if he'll make the edit?

Also, some people have asked me about the 'Over 18s only' notice on the website for tickets for my sketch show. Ignore it! All ages are welcome, and there are no swears, and only moderate drinking of alcohol. (During the show, at any rate.) We had a ten year old in last week, and he seemed to survive the experience pretty much unscathed. I'm not sure he will totally have got the sketch based on the black and white Alfred Hitchcock film, but who knows, maybe he did.

And now, for people not in Britain, for whom this post has so far been a total waste of time: a picture of a puffin. (If you ARE in Britain, you're not allowed to look at it.)

Not that there's anything wrong with that.

2011-06-08T16:25:00.000+01:00

This is the start of the dust-jacket blurb for a 1956 novel called Thin Ice, by Compton Mackenzie (of Whisky Galore fame)

'Perhaps it was strange that George Gaymer should have become a friend of Henry Fortescue at Oxford in the last years of the nineteenth century. Politically they were poles apart. Henry, already president of the Union, had a brilliant future ahead of him; George was good-hearted but mediocre. Above all, Henry was a homosexual, George was not. Yet George's loyal friendship stood many test across more than forty years, and was reliable when that of Henry's own kind proved transitory or even treacherous.'

Wow. Bear in mind this is meant to be a bold and progressive novel, in which homosexuals are treated with daring sympathy. Despite their inherently treacherous nature.

I also enjoy the ways in which early twentieth century authors let you know a character is gay without actually using the word. Any word.

This is from James Thurber: 'Winney was, by a familiar caprice of nature, incapable of emotional interest in females'.

And this is from Ngaio Marsh: 'Bertie was a bachelor, and most understandably so.'

Winnie the Git

2011-06-03T18:48:00.000+01:00

There's a great tradition of anti-heroes in literature; evil bastards you can't help liking. Richard III. Heathcliff. Flashman. And, of course...Winnie the Pooh. At least, so I assume from the poster for the new Winnie the Pooh movie:

....What? Now, I'm not one of those people who think Disney ruined Pooh - I love the Milne and Shepherd books, and I like the Disney films (the ones I grew up with, at least - I haven't seen the new ones.) There's room for both. (I also absolutely love the crazy Russian version my friend Simon Kane introduced me to. )

But surely, in all versions, the main thing about Pooh is he's nice. He's not the sort of bear who would, say, rig up a see-saw in such a way as to catapult his little friend Piglet headfirst into a bee-hive. I mean, there's no other way to interpret this picture, is there? Pooh's tower of pots has brought him as high as the beehive, so if he just wanted to get at the honey, he could do. That's not what he wants. He wants Piglet to be engulfed in angry bees. And Piglet knows. There he stands, awaiting his fate, turning to us in anguish, and murmuring 'Oh Pooh.' Oh Pooh. How did it come to this? What happened to you, Pooh? We used to hunt monsters together, Pooh, remember that? And now you've become one. It's like Christopher Robin told us... you were the Woozle all along.'

(P.S. Coincidentally, both Winnie the Pooh and Simon Kane will feature in my Sketch night at The Albany tomorrow night. You can come if you like.)

Whoops

2011-06-01T17:04:00.000+01:00

It has been pointed out by people less stupid than me that I didn't include any instructions about how to actually buy a ticket to see my sketch show. Well, you can buy them on the door, or better yet you can buy them online. I hope you do. Today I wrote a sketch about why, during world war two, the RAF kept a top secret room below Whitehall filled with cats. Coming along on Saturday is literally the only way to find out.

John Finnemore's Sketch Night

2011-05-31T16:31:00.000+01:00

Exciting news! Well, for me, anyway. I will be writing and performing a new sketch show for BBC Radio 4 this Autumn. What will it be called? Who else will be in it? When exactly will it be on? These are just some of the questions science simply cannot yet answer.

What science can tell us, though, is that in order to prepare for it, I will be doing a fortnightly sketch show at the Albany in Great Portland Street over the summer, and the first show is this very Saturday! It would be great to see you there.

To read the titchy writing, click the image to embiggen it, or click here for the show's website (which is currently just the same information, only bigger, and with a map. But in the future - wondrous things.)

Twinned with St-Bernard-mais-D'oh!

2011-05-29T19:46:00.007+01:00

Westward Ho! is a small village in Devon, which was named after Charles Kingsley's book, and is the only place in Britain to have an exclamation mark as an official part of its name. Which is a shame, because imagine how much more exciting it would be to visit, say, 'Birmingham!'.

Anyway, until yesterday, I thought it was the only such place in the world, but that's when I learnt of the existence of the small Quebecois town of...

Fantastic. Double the exclamation marks, double the fun. Apparently the Commission du Toponymie (and kudos to the Canadians for having such a thing) maintains the 'Ha! Ha!' relates to a nearby lake being an unexpected obstacle, like a Ha-ha... but I think we all know the event it actually commemorates.

But, you know, if they're all full...

2011-05-28T18:07:00.000+01:00

Rather a bleak thing I found on Google Maps:

I hope that's just a review, and not actually their slogan.

I think Lykke Li and I probably shouldn't get married. Which is a shame, because I imagine I'm just her type.

2011-05-22T13:20:00.001+01:00

Sorry for the poor quality picture - if you can't read it, it represents a privileged glimpse into the philosophy of Lykke Li; who is, apparently, one of Sweden's leading Slight Curves. The creed by which she lives is as follows: "I believe life's too short for compromises and bad fitting jeans."

As it happens, I was approached to do this ad first - I would have been identified as a Bulgy Slab. The quote I submitted was "I believe that life is impossible without compromises, and indeed that developing the art of compromise, with others and one's self, is life's most vital skill; but that what life is far, far too short for is having a 'custom jeans fitting at a Levi's store near you'."

I never heard back.

Aslan was probably the same.

2011-05-20T15:47:00.000+01:00

Sorry for the unannounced break, I've been on holiday.

While I was there, I took this picture of a feral cat which snuck up to drink from the swimming pool just before sunset; because I felt it looked so much like - and was acting so much like - a lion coming to the water-hole in the evening. Obviously, I took care not to get too close, because after all this was a wild animal, and I had no doubt that if I disturbed him, or even encroached on his territory, he would attack with all the murderous ferocity of the lion he so closely resembled.

Conceive of my terror, therefore, when having finished his drink, he did not slink back to his lair, but turned and made straight for me!

Just look into those cruel tawny eyes! Clearly, his thirst slaked, this fearsome descendant of the King of the Beasts had but one thing on his mind...

Ah.

Does the mighty pussy cat want his tummy tickled, then?

Grrr.

Still looking like a lion, I think you'll agree; only now a lion after it's been shot and turned into a hearthrug.

Hidden fires.

2011-05-11T01:42:00.001+01:00

Sat opposite this chap on the train at the weekend. Balding, glasses, fawn jacket over quiet check shirt, doing the Independent crossword. Maybe not one of life's hellraisers.

But now, if you didn't spot it immediately, have another look at the gap at the top of his shirt...

Do judge a book by its cover, that's very much what the cover is there for. But don't judge a man by his fawn jacket...

Queen Leer

2011-05-08T13:42:00.000+01:00

A little late with this, but of all the beautiful tributes to the Royal Wedding couple, I think this one, in a shop window on Oxford Street, was the finest:

Doesn't she look radiant?

No, I don't know what happens when you press the button with a fish on it.

2011-05-05T16:55:00.002+01:00

Thanks to Plenty More Fish for directing me to this amazing guy who has created book covers based on famous albums. My favourite is Horses. And Surfer Rosa. And Abbey Road. I have lots of favourites. (Simon Kane has also done a great one, but it's on Facebook and I can't work out how to link to it.)

Anyway, it looks like too fun a game not to join in just because I'm rubbish at Photoshop, so here's a couple from me, done with horse-drawn pen and paper.

Not all they're cracked up to be.

2011-05-03T17:16:00.002+01:00

Oh dear, Sainsbury's. Are you having trouble with your Easter crackers? Were your Easter crackers not as big a seller as you hoped? Do you find yourself with a lot of Easter crackers left over? I wonder what went wrong. After all, your Easter crackers are very nice, with all the pretty springtime colours and chick and bunny labels one expects to find on Easter crackers. I really don't understand why your customers have apparently gone elsewhere to buy their traditional Easter crackers. Oh, no, wait a minute, I think I've got it... there's no such thing as Easter Crackers! There's your problem, Mr. Sainsbury, right there - Easter crackers are not a thing. And you can't turn them into a thing just by making them and assuming everyone will go 'Oh, we have to have Easter crackers now, do we? Ok then, here's a fiver'.

(And good luck with selling off the Easter crackers no-one wanted at Easter now that it's not even Easter. I'm not sure 70% off is enough. I think you'd have to pay me.)

Sadly 'Arthur's Egyptology Lecture (Dustbuster)' didn't make the cut.

2011-04-30T10:12:00.005+01:00

Qikiqtarjuaq. In case you were wondering.

Sorry for the gap - it's been all Cabin Pressure, all the time, round here lately. Apologies also if you are one of the many people to whom I owe a letter, email, phone-call or visit. But as of yesterday, series three is now not only written but recorded, and I now find myself in a strange new world where I must learn what it is humans do when they're not writing radio sitcoms. Answer their emails and visit their parents, possibly. The first thing I did this morning, though, was dismantle the huge and oppressive wall of multi-coloured post-its with bits of plot on them which has grown up round my desk. Here are a few of them:

- Eddie immovable.
- Carolyn retrieves the lemon.
- Arthur's phantom fire.
- Otter in fridge?
- Martin grills Martin
- No toblerones!
- Apple juice confiscated.
- Hercules scared of sheep.
- Yellow car III
- Douglas chases bears.

The odd thing is, these are all reasonable descriptions of moments in the series. You should have seen Roger Allam chasing those bears last night. Magnificent.

Nailbiter.

2011-04-20T11:15:00.001+01:00

Strapline to historical novel I've just seen:

'1804. Napoleon has all of Europe in his sights. Wellington will do anything to stop him. Who will win?'

Well, look, I don't want to spoil the ending for anyone, but if you're taking bets....

Mind you, I'm one to talk. I recently looked up a reference in Julius Caesar; and then hurriedly stopped reading when I saw that Cicero was one of the characters. This is because I have enjoyed the two Robert Harris novels about Cicero, and don't want to find out how things worked out for him under Caesar's rule before the third novel in the trilogy comes out. That's me - so woefully lacking in classical education that I fear spoilers from Shakespeare.

...and taller than her five feet and six inches would have you believe.

2011-04-08T17:10:00.002+01:00

Character description in a script breakdown:

'Naomi is older than her 21 years suggest.'

Is she really? That's a good trick. How much older? Eleven months?

Cabin Pressure - Extra Date

2011-04-05T18:10:00.001+01:00

A few people have asked me why there were only five episodes being recorded in the new series. Well, it was because we made the foolish mistake of casting incredibly talented and therefore in demand actors (present company excepted) in the main roles, and therefore it's increasingly difficult to find days when they can all be in the same room together. However, because they are also all incredibly generous about working at times and on days they really shouldn't be expected to, I'm happy to say we've found another day we can record. It's the 29th April, and you can enter the draw for tickets here.

Also, check that they're apple trees. Or you'll be there a while.

2011-04-03T23:28:00.001+01:00

...No, I don't think so. I'm pretty sure when you want a eureka moment, you need to take a few baths. I believe what you're thinking of is what you should do when you want a few apples. Happy to help.

G. Boycott in mean-spirited big-headedness shock. Nation reels.

2011-04-01T11:42:00.000+01:00

On Radio Four's excellent obituary programme Last Word this week, the first speaker commemorating England spin bowler Fred Titmus was Geoffrey Boycott. Well, I say commemorating: in fact the first thing he said was:

'Well, I played against him many times, for Yorkshire against Middlesex, and I think, I'm pleased to say, he never got me out.'

Yeah, that's the spirit Geoff. The important thing is that everyone is very clear straight away that he wasn't as good as you.

First swear in this blog ever, I think. But it's worth it.

2011-03-26T13:35:00.001Z

Overheard yesterday:

A woman is serving a customer at her flower stall outside a tube station. She greets a friend, a man in his early forties. They both have proper cockney accents - not just estuary, but full on cockney. Yes, I know this is now a story about a cockney flower seller, but I can't help it - that's what she sounded like, and that was her job. Anyway:

Her: Hiya! You alright?

Him: Yeah, yeah, alright. But my Grandad died.

Her: Oh, love! I'm sorry!

Him: No, he's alright, he's alright. Well, he's not alright. He's dead.

She breaks off to finish with her customer, then goes back to him, and gives him a hug.

Her: I'm really sorry.

Him: No, he's alright, he's alright, he's alright. (Pause). Nah, he's fucked.

Bing Bong

2011-03-21T22:45:00.003Z

MJN Air would like to apologise for the late arrival of Series Three of Cabin Pressure. However, we have now loaded all the baggage; taken delivery of a fresh supply of lemon-scented paper napkins; retrieved the steward from the baggage carousel he'd got his tie caught in; and are ready to depart from the Drill Hall, London, on the 11th and 13th of April. Tickets are available here:

Departure Lounge

Our estimated time of arrival to BBC Radio Four is 11:30, July 1st.

We wish you a pleasant and comfortable radio show. We will now go back to finishing writing it.

But not least.

2011-03-12T22:45:00.002Z

This is Cuthbert Lempriere Holthouse. Doubtless you've always wondered what Cuthbert Lempriere Holthouse looked like - well, he looked like this.

The object he is holding is the last ever of the original Wooden Spoons, in the sense of a mocking award for finishing last. It began as a tradition amongst the Mathematics faculty at Cambridge University, from at least 1803 until 1909, of awarding a wooden spoon to the student who graduated with the lowest passing mark. The spoons got bigger and more elaborate over time, culminating in this one, which was converted from a rowing blade, as it was apparently Cuthbert's devotion to the college boat which cost him greater academic success.

(Were you surprised a maths student named Cuthbert turned out to be such a jock? Me too. Shame on us for our lazy preconceptions.)

The reason the tradition ended in 1909 is apparently because 'the system was changed so that the results were announced in alphabetical order rather than by exam mark.' Though really, if that little manoeuvre successfully rendered an entire graduating class of Cambridge mathematicians unable to work out who had come bottom, I can’t help but think wooden spoons were due all round.

I should probably have said...

2011-03-05T20:38:00.002Z

...I was on the Now Show again today, being all cross about Prince Andrew. You've missed it now, but it'll be on Listen Again for the next week.

Here, in fact.

It was next to the corner shop, just opposite the prison.

2011-02-28T16:34:00.001Z

Today, I walked past a small faded-grandeur Victorian hotel in an out-of-season south coast seaside town, and I genuinely thought to myself 'That would make a really good setting for a sitcom.' Well done me. Now I just need to get it written before some bastard steals the idea.

And everywhere that Cio-Cio went, the ship was sure to go.

2011-02-26T14:03:00.001Z

'For goodness' sake, Madame Butterfly!' cried Madame Butterfly's mother 'That's the third time you've left the Titanic on the bus this month! Well I'm sorry, but from now on, I'm going to have to tie it to your wrist.'

Whatever my faults...

2011-02-22T14:14:00.002Z

...and they are many; I am absolutely not the sort of person who would ever wish a heart attack on anyone.

Therefore I have nothing to say about this 'advert' for Cheltenham race course. Nothing at all.

Nothing. At all.

Foo Foo update; and the military career of Colonel Sir Nils Olav.

2011-02-13T13:44:00.002Z

Oh, and do you know who else has a white miniature poodle named Foo Foo? I'll tell you who:

That's who. Which raises two equally exciting possibilities: that the Crown Prince of Thailand is a Muppet fan, and named his Air Chief Marshal after Miss Piggy's poodle; or, that he's never heard of the Muppets, but just happens to share a taste in poodle names with Miss Piggy. I can't decide which I want to be true more.

Now, let's forget all this silliness, and study instead the distinguished career of a proper soldier - Colonel-in-Chief Sir Nils Olav of the Norwegian King's Guard. Olav joined the army in 1972 as a humble Lance Corporal, but gradually rose through the ranks until 2005, when he was appointed Colonel-in-Chief. In 2008, he was knighted by King Harald V. He has won several medals, and statues in his honour have been erected in both Oslo and Edinburgh, where he lives.

Here he is inspecting his troops.

And here he is receiving his knighthood:

I wonder who would win a battle between the Norwegian King's Guard and the Royal Thai Air Force? Or between their commanders?

Hail to the Foo Foo.

2011-02-09T23:11:00.001Z

Air Chief Marshal is a military rank in the air forces of several countries, including Great Britain. It is a four star rank, equivalent in seniority to a General in the Army, or an Admiral in the Navy. Thailand, apparently, has two currently serving Air Chief Marshals: Air Chief Marshal Itthaporn Subhawong, the 21st commander-in-chief of the Royal Thai Air Force, who looks like this:

...and Air Chief Marshal Foo Foo, who looks like this:

The second of the country's Air Chief Marshals - well, I say that; I don't actually know which of them has superiority over the other - is a miniature poodle belonging to the Crown Prince of Thailand. This is according to one of the Wikileaks cables, in this case from former US ambassador Ralph Boyce, who went on to describe his own leaving do:

“Foo Foo was present at the event, dressed in formal evening attire complete with paw mitts, and at one point during the band’s second number, he jumped up on to the head table and began lapping from the guests’ water glasses, including my own. The Air Chief Marshal’s antics drew the full attention of the 600-plus audience members, and remains the talk of the town to this day.”

Foo Foo has, in fact, previously been in the news: in 2009, when a video leaked of a lavish birthday party the Prince threw for him, during which he required his wife, Her Royal Highness Princess Consort Srirasmi, to be topless throughout.

It is a crime in Thailand to make any criticism of the actions of the Royal Family. You can see why it would have to be.

Or possibly 'Linnaeus'?

2011-02-05T23:55:00.000Z

It probably means I've been doing too many cryptic crosswords lately that when I saw this sign on an aeroplane...

...I automatically tried to solve it.

(I think it's 'Bandwidth'; but why 'class'...?)

Trouser bugles.

2011-02-01T12:03:00.000Z

I wonder if there will ever come a time when I am so blase about staying in hotels that I am no longer delighted by: i) the existence of the trouserpress; ii) the first and last panels in the series of pictures illustrating the use of the trouserpress:

...or iii) the fact that the German for trouserpress is apparently 'Hosenbügler'?

I think not.

When paleontologists grow whimsical.

2011-01-25T18:50:00.004Z

Here are the dinosaur names I have most enjoyed today.

Bambiraptor.

Named after Bambi; because it's small, long-legged and 'cute'.

Qantassaurus.

Named after the national airline of Australia. (And cuter than the Bambiraptor, for my money, but that might just be the expression this artist has given it.)

Irritator

The only extant fossil of this dinosaur is a skull which the paleontologists who classified it eventually discovered had been doctored with plaster by the fossil-dealer in an effort to make it seem more impressive, and therefore valuable. Hence the name: "from irritation, the feeling the authors felt (understated here) when discovering that the snout had been artificially elongated."

And my favourite - because sometimes the well of inspiration simply runs dry:

Megapnosaurus

From the Greek, meaning 'Big Dead Lizard'.

Things I'm doing.

2011-01-20T21:15:00.001Z

Thing One

I'm being a programme associate in just under an hour. I've never been that before, and always wondered what one did. Now I know, of course, I'm sworn to secrecy; but I can tell you it involves a computer, and coffee. Anyway, the programme with which I am associating myself with is 10 O'Clock Live, with David Mitchell, Charlie Brooker, Jimmy Carr and Lauren Laverne; and from what I've seen today, I think it's going to be rather good. It's Thursdays on Channel 4 from tonight for 15 weeks (though I'm not doing it every week.) I shall leave what time it's on as an exercise for the class.

Thing Two.

We now know when the third series of Cabin Pressure will be broadcast: Fridays from the 1st July. Still don't know when it will be recorded, I'm afraid, but sources close to, well, me indicate it's unlikely to be before March. (The delay is not my fault, by the way. It's not anyone's fault. But one of the people whose fault it's not is mine.)

Cheer up, it might never happen!

2011-01-16T21:03:00.004Z

No, actually, I'm working quite hard at the moment, and getting a lot done. Why do you ask?

If it turns out there's such a thing as a Trisketiger, I'll reconsider.

2011-01-14T20:43:00.002Z

Today, I noticed that there is a village on the Isle of Man called Kirk Michael. The island's capital, of course, is Douglas.

Also, I learnt that the motto of the Isle of Man is 'Whithersoever you throw it, it will stand', referring to the emblem on their flag, the triskelion.

I have two things to say about this. Firstly, I'm pretty sure that a more accurate, if less rousing, motto would be 'Whithersoever you throw it, it will fall on its side'. Secondly, of the two new words I've learnt today, 'triskelion' is good, but 'whithersoever' is great.

Cats at sea

2011-01-11T12:22:00.001Z

The Royal Navy used to actively encourage its ships to adopt a ship's cat, believing they were good for morale and vermin control, though sadly since 1975 they have been forbidden.

- Simon, ship's cat of the HMS Amethyst, was wounded by shrapnel in the Yangtze Incident of 1948. In recognition of his valour, he was awarded three medals, and promoted to the rank of Able Seacat.

- Oscar was rescued from the wreckage of the German battleship Bismarck by the HMS Cossack. They adopted him as their ship's cat, until, five months later, the Cossack too was sunk. Oscar survived, and was transferred to the HMS Ark Royal... which was sunk two weeks later. This time, Oscar was found clinging to a floating board 'angry, but quite unharmed.' He was renamed 'Unsinkable Sam', and retired to Belfast, where he eventually died, ten years after the end of the war, of old age.

- Beauty, ship's cat of the HMS Black Prince, was present at the Normandy landings, during which she occupied herself giving birth to three kittens.

- Unusually, the gunship HMSGB-7 was never named, and nor was its cat, who was known as 'TBC'. Which stood for 'That Bloody Cat'.

- In 1924, the HMS Hood did not have a ship's cat. It had Joey... the ship's wallaby.