The Great British Phone-in

We Brits are really good at stereotypes, from "all immigrants are illegal and only here to milk the NHS and the benefits system" to " all ManU fans live in the home counties and Asia". The former is bigoted and reactionary and especially so the latter. Yes there are plenty of Cockney Reds and the foreign following is is massive, but in my experience of trips to OT the accents are local

One of the posts I've often planned and never done is an analysis of 606 as the Liverpool fan from Swindon calls in, or someone with a West Country burr waxes about Arsenal. It isn't scientific (yet) but the only accents I recall talking about their local team in the Premiership were those from the North East, the Midlands and the lesser London clubs.

But that is by the by. The purpose of this post, pre-rant, was stereotyping. Don't you just love it? So here is one of my occasional posts on clasic comedy, this time from the Million Pound Radio Show in which Andy Hamilton hosts a phone-in with Harry Enfield as George from Hendon and Felicity Montagu as Jean. You can almost hear the pages of the Daily Mail rustling in the background. Here it is. A bit dated, hence the reference to Bernie Grant, but enjoy enjoy.

Clue Two

I think I'm in danger of becoming a Cymruphile. Yes, it is as rude as it sounds apparently when you Google it (explicitness warning) although I meant it it in the sense of Cymru (Wales) and phile, as in liking something.

The reason is Rob Drydon. I've mentioned him before (not in a Cyrmuphile context) and his excellent voice in ISIHAC. This time from just a few weeks ago -- "Who do you think you're kidding Mr Hitler" to the tune of "Yesterday Once More" by The Carpenters.

Give it a listen. I especially like "Mr Hit-it-ler" and and Mr Brown going to "Tow-ow-ow-n."

He Has Got a Clue

I'm a big fan of I'm Sorry I Haven't A Clue, not least because of the complex and devious nature of the rules of the games the teams play. But perhaps the most arcane is One Song to the Tune of Another. The towering intellect that is Humph has tried many times, likening a song to a car, a jam roly poly, nuclear physics and, my personal favourite, the sandwich.

The outcome can be both chaotic and harmonious, often at the same time. Who can forget the words of Love Me Tender to the tune of the Archers? believe me, it works sublimely well. However, I felt I had to share this one with you and damn the expense, bother and my lack of technical know-wots. Rob Brydon sings Anarchy in the UK to the tune of Just When I Needed You Most.

Here it is. Sorry about the poor quality. A recording of a recording and all that. He can sing though. Then he is Welsh.

Class

I was listening to Hancock's Half Hour in the car this morning, along with Master P who was on his way to the last day of his work placement, and this bit made us chuckle.

It was The Smugglers in which Anthony Aloyisius St John, Bill Kerr and Sid James areon the cross channel ferry after a holiday -- 19 countires in six days on a scooter -- with Sid getting nervous on behalf of his 'friend' who needs to sneak intothe country unobserved.

He wonders whether his 'friend' could jump ship just before Dover and swim ashore without being seen and how far his 'friend' could swim if weighed down with several parcels. Finally he admits that his 'friend' can't swim and could Tony teach him how to in 20 minutes, or rather can he teach Sid who will pass it on to his 'friend'.

This wonderfully surreal and strangely logical patter follows:

Bill Kerr: "I've been thinking.
Tony Hancock: "What?"
BK: "If Sid's friend can't swim, why doesn't he wait until after dark before he jumps overboard?" (Silence, then audience laughter)
TH: "Why?" (Exasperated)
BK: "Well, then nobody will be able to se that he can't swim."
TH: "Go on."
BK: "That's it!"
TH: "That's what?"
BK: "That's what I've been thinking about."
TH: "What difference does it make when he jumps overboard, it's not going to stop him drownin' is it?"
BK: "Ah, no."
TH: "Well what are you talking about then?"
BK: "He says he doesn't want anyone to see him."
TH: "But if he were drowning he'd be grateful for people to see him."
BK: "Ahh! But he didn't mention that did he?"
TH: "He doesn't care if people can see that he can't swim! He just wants to go ashore without anyone seeing him."
BK: "That's what I said. Why doesn't he jump over at night time?"
TH: "Because he can't swim!!!"
BK: "Exactly! Now if he's going to drown anyway, he might as well do it at night time so that the people he doesn't want to see him won't see him and will wonder what's happened to him.
"Well... at least it would be a sort of moral victory wouldn't it? I mean, they'll be at Dover waiting for him for years and all the while he'd be under the water safely drowned. That way the laugh'd be on them, won't it?
"I'm sorry I spoke I'm sure."
TH: "And so am I mate. I've been sittin' here botherin'. I haven't the slightest idea what you're talking about. How does your mind work? This fascinates me. When you get an idea, what happens to it?
BK: "Well, I..."
TH: "I hadn't finished had I? Look, you get an idea. Now what happens to it en route to your mouth? It goes through a sort of threshing machine doesn't it? It gets chewed up into little pieces and gets thrown out willy nilly."
BK: "Well, we've all got our own methods haven't we?"

Galton and Simpson. Pure class.