My article for the Retail Newsagent appeared in this week’s edition. I’ll PDF a version of it when I have the time. It is a good edit according to The Missus. This pleases me as I rarely ever read anything again that I’ve written (how poncey is that?). The article is entitled “Diary of a Disaster” and explains exactly what we’ve been through, though I have excluded a lot of the shitty, nasty, personal stuff.
Category: Diary
Well a new year is upon us and I know it has to be better than the last one? Plans are drawn, the future is pretty much mapped out for the first quarter of the year. For the first time ever, we have a good idea of what we are trying to achieve in the coming year and my new year’s resolution should be easy (and a joy) to keep.
Who knows? Maybe I’ll even get around to recording some more music!!!
The idiots of the village continue to snicker and bicker and spread all manner of untruths about our situation. As our neighbour remarked to us: “It doesn’t matter if you have anything to do with these people, even if you keep yourselves to yourselves – they’ll still make things up about you.”
Ahh, the petty small-mindedness of village life. So the first rumour that emerged since the incident was that my mother had died of a heart attack as a result of it. This I find amusing as her condition as “unhurt” had been reported in the local press, so I put it down to the local kids’ wishful thinking.
Another good rumour was that my mother had stormed into the Co-Op store (which like every good unethical business has decided to profit on our misery by starting to stock newspapers for the first time, but claiming that they are helping us as we can’t keep our regular hours. Not true, you mealy-mouthed cunts, you are stealing my trade for ourselves. Kick a man while he’s down, why don’t ya?”) and thrown all their newspapers into the street.
The source of that rumour was my mother herself. She remarked, cheefully laughing, that if she had it in her she would go into the Co-Op and do the self-same thing: throw all their papers into the street, such was her consternation at our plight. It’s an off-the-cuff remark, but the drooling idiots that populate this place grab hold of it and spread it as truth. Morons.
So now the newest rumour was that in fact a body had been found in the rubble. A body had been buried in the walls. My mother heard this from a customer and a day later a different customer came in with a much more macabre variation of this: it was a baby’s body buried in the walls that had been discovered by the police. Whoever is spreading this shit is sick in the head.
No-one died, no newspapers have been thrown into the street and, more importantly, no baby’s remains have been found on site.
Twats…
In the past week I’ve finally “gotten my shit together” and gone about replacing the lost rear speakers and speaker stands from my home cinema system. They fell out of the window/disappeared after the recent incident and it is a good lesson to make sure you have all four walls attached to your home. Remember people, losing a wall isn’t cool or clever. You can go around saying that your property is “open plan” but losing a wall is dangerous as your worldly possession can fall out and worst of all, numpty little scrotes can stare in.
I like to say that our house is in “mint” condition – in that, it has a hole in it. (Of course, that joke won’t make sense to anyone who hasn’t come into contact with the humble Polo mint).
Anyway, speakers, stands and replacement cable were purchased and I set up my system again. At the beginning of this month, I’d purchased the Genesis 1970-1975 boxset, the final in the series that features the band’s first five albums all remixed and remastered in 5.1 surround sound. I had been looking forward to this for a long time and, in the case of The Lamb Lies Down on Broadway album, nearly a decade since the first idea of a surround sound mix was mooted by the band. So forget about the near death experience, forget about the damage and the emotional turmoil – no, the thing that’s really pissed me off lately is not being able to hear these albums as I’d intended.
Today, I found myself working through the said boxset with baby Verity snuggled up against my incredible bulk and then I realised that this was bliss. My first moment of true serenity and stillness in the past month and do you know what? It felt good, my friend, it felt very good indeed.
Here’s a clip of the band talking about their first “proper” album, Trespass:
Anthony Phillips is my hero – swoon!
DG writes about my entry describing the tragic fate of Iggle Piggle in the childrens’ TV programme “In the Night Garden…”:
This is a kids program i think you read to much into it.i would suggest you find more constructive things to do with your time.”
True, but that is like saying that “The Wasteland” by TS Eliot is “just a poem”. The interesting thing about “In the Night Garden…” over other childrens’ TV shows is the various levels of meaning that are put into it.
I don’t have much choice when watching the show as I am often attending my young daughter and she loves to watch Iggle Piggle and co. So instead of just vegetating, I started to take notice of it and certain themes became apparent. Whereas the concept of “The Teletubbies” is fairly simple: there’s a group of four aliens who may or may not be on Earth, but who are monitoring the planet and learning our ways thanks to repitition and regular broadcasts from children of Earth to them via their viddy-screen stomachs. Easy. “In the Night Garden…” is more complicated than that and has more symbolism.
We already know that Iggle Piggle is living within a dream when he enters the Night Garden, or the place of dreams. We can also deduce that Iggle Piggle and co are constructs of a higher intelligence, the baby at the beginning of the show who each night falls asleep and dreams of Iggle Piggle alone on the sea. But did you realise that the constellations are the key to some of the major characters in the show?
When the camera pans up at the start of the show (and down at the end), each constellation in the sky represents a different element of the show. And if you pay close attention some of the elemnts have flashing lights on them that spell them out in the sky. For example, the Pinky Ponk. the Ninky Nonk and the bridge all have lights on them which can be taken as true physical representations in the night sky.
Whereas we would look up and see the constellation of Orion (and his belt) or Ursa Major – the Big Dipper or the Plough – we give these constellations names because they follow a rough outline of similar items on Earth. In these examples, a man or a plough. So we can assume that the characters in the TV show are named and dreamt up by Iggle Piggle as he lies in his boat and looks up into the night sky. He sees the Ninky Nonk et al – even the Tombliboos house – in the night sky as starry representations and when he falls asleep they become physical representations to him when he enters the dream world of the Night Garden.
Meanwhile, lets look at the characters themselves. What is Iggle Piggle? Is he real or does he represent one of the human baby’s soft toys come to life? This is a tricky question to answer but I am of the mind that he is in fact a toy come to life and this probably relates to some clever marketing by the creator. The toy exists outside the programme and also exists inside the show, so you have this natural exophoric relationship between character and his soft toy alter-ego. The same can be said of Upsy-Daisy – Iggle Piggle’s fictional girlfriend (because in his real world, he is alone, but in his dream world he has a girlfriend) is obviously not of the same species and features what appears to be a drawstring device near her belt. This is a similar device that you would find on a doll to pull to make them speak – so therefore Upsy-Daisy is definitely a toy come to life. They also share a common language and dialogue.
The character of Makka-Pakka represents the parental role combined and made reality. This androgenous creature is Ma-Pa rolled into one and cares for those in the garden, cleaning, washing and tidying. It is easy to think of him as a subservient role, but in the child’s world this is mother and father rolled into one, the slave to the child. And this is the behaviour that Ma(kka)-Pa(kka) has to emulate. Who else would tend the garden.
The Tombliboos represent the opposite to Makka-Pakka and these creatures are obviously meant to represent the younger child and the baby. Their strange behaviour and tendancy for complete unawareness and their reponse to constant prompts means that they haven’t yet developed to the level of Upsy-Daisy or Iggle Piggle. They are to be nurtured and cared for. Hence the constant repitition of daily chores like cleaning teeth and changing Tombliboo trousers.
The Pontipines and their neighbours, the lesser seen Wottingers, represent the formal family unit where strict discipline and rules are evident. They appear and return home to the sound of a bell and the parents are keen to keep an eye on any wandering children. Where as Iggle Piggle and Upsy Daisy represent randomness of behaviour, these characters are order in the chaos. They have certain predictable behaviours and often can been seen as a microcosm of our own world and the frustrations that modern life brings: for example, they always seem to be chasing the Ninky Nonk and failing to get aboard on time.
Music plays a very important part to the show with each character having a theme and a song to sing. This aids the watching child’s language development through repitition. Each theme often appears elsewhere in the show and sometimes is echoed by the Tittifer birds, who also signal the end of the show and time for the characters to return to sleep (and for Iggle Piggle to wake up in his world).
The two major characters aren’t actually living creatures but apparently sentient vehicles in the shape of the Ninky Nonk train, which appears to defy the laws of gravity and have separate travelling sections for each of the characters of the show, and the Pinky Ponk, which appears to be modelled on a zeppellin airship. Both these vehicles are adorned with lights which are meant to represent their stellar appearance in the “real” night sky as constellations.
Of course, like the Teletubbies, Iggle Piggle is the innocent abroad, the visitor to the Night Garden and the child can relate to him, discovering new things at the same time in this dream world. Unusually, at the beginning of the show he is ordered to take down his sail in order to travel to the Night Garden – the idea of stopping the boat to travel is an oxymoron, but of course he’s not travelling at all, he’s dreaming. That takes us back to the beginning.
But what of the Narrator? Is this the voice of god? This character I have the most problem with as he appears in all three worlds: the world of the real, the child at the beginning; the dream world of Iggle Piggle in his boat; and the hyper-dream world of Iggle Piggle’s Night Garden. Of course, he is just a narrative construct to move the story along, but the romantic idea of Derek Jacobi as the voice of God in the Night Garden is too tantalising to resist.
So there you are: there’s plenty of other things to spot in the programme and the more you watch and the more you question, the more things become revealed. If you have any thoughts or ideas about the show, drop me a line via the comment link.
Of course, it is only a TV show, but I’ve got ten minutes to kill and I can’t think of anything else better to write about as my life is pretty dull at the moment!
Here’s a link to my thoughts about the Tragedy of Iggle Piggle.
Today, we had a visit from the local Environmental Health Officer. Apparently, some snidey sod from the village made an anonymous complaint against us because we don’t have any permanent lighting in the shop (we are open during daylight hours and close when it gets dark. Any customers unwilling to come into the shop are served at the door and we’ve made plenty of signs to warn people about the darkness “danger”).
Luckily, the officer was very sympathetic and understood my plight. Nonetheless, I’ve still had to invest in a petrol generator and some halogen lighting. Hopefully, I can get this money back from the insurers (ha ha!).
You soon realise that there are plenty of nasty people about and it appears most of them inhabit the village of misery, known as Horsford.
Sometimes, when you are your lowest ebb, when all hope seems to have faded and you wonder exactly how you can even begin to think about carrying on, a small token arrives that rekindles that fire. Firstly, an e-acquaintance sent me a donation to the Darren Lock Benevolent Fund, which reduced this big fat idiot to a blubber of tears. The cash donation will buy Verity a Xmas present. I’ve had some nice messages of support from the various e-pals I’ve met on my virtual travels and while they are comforting and go to restore your faith in humankind, they also put it all into stark relief and make you realise what an impossible position you are stuck in. But I am very grateful for their concern and warmed by their words – if only real people were as nice.
On a separate note, I received a short, but very sweet, email from Miltos from Greece who appears to be digging my tunes:
“You are fantastic, man.Thanks for the music”
It’s a pleasure. I’m in the process of rebuilding my recording rig so that it is more portable and it means that I can be creative and move everything really quickly for the next time I have to up sticks and ski-daddle off to pastures new. I am hoping to return to recording really soon and have some new things for you to enjoy.