Merry Christmas!
Wotcha. Dr. Who is on, and I’m no watching it on principle. I dunno if I’m even going to get back to it when the new series comes out but I can’t help but feel that any form of direct or indirect interraction with things involving Catherine Tate, short of shooting the cretinious troll, is only going to encourage her.
One day I sincerely hope that people will discover that catchprases do not, of themselves, create teh funny. Back in the days of radio, the logic behind a catchphrase was something like “It’s the radio, we’ve got a cast of six, and we need to know if Kenneth Williams is playing Julian or J. Peasmould Gruntfuttock in this sketch, so let’s have him say ‘The voices, the voices they told me “Go Forth, Gruntfuttock,” etc’ nice an’ early on.”
And then we got the telly, and bigger casts and, what’s more, could use costume to help show if you was being a bent shopkeeper or a silly old codger and so you didn’t really need catchprases anymore. Certainly you didn’t need ’em shoehorned into the space where the punchline was supposed to go…
Still, that’s how come I’m wafting round the Internet.
I travel North on the 29th (sounds very Period Novel, dunnit), (“…on business, and I fear I shall not return to the overseeing of my estates in Shropshire for some time…” etc.) so I’m hoping to cath up with Newport people on the 27th, which I think is a Wednesday.
In other news, today’s xkcd is very sweet.
Have a Merry Christmas, a Happy New Year, and similarsuch festive humbuggery,
with best wishes from JTA.