Enya

Enya

Enya Brennan (the anglicised version of Eithne Patricia Ní Bhraonáin) is a massively successful Irish singer, composer and instrumentalist, the second biggest Irish musical export after U2 and undoubtedly Ireland's best-selling solo artist. Although Enya herself dislikes the term, New Age describes her music best: heavily layered vocals (layered up to eighty times in some cases) and an almost wickedly excessive use of the Roland D-50's strings and pads. She's rather reclusive and has a habit of releasing music to massive sales and her own relaxed schedule, years apart.

Enya: The Group

The musical group Enya is actually a partnership. There's Enya, who composes and performs; the music is all hers, although guest musicians are occasionally roped in to perform specific parts. Roma Ryan creates lyrics, utilising a dizzying range of languages including her own invented language Loxian. English, Irish and Latin feature most prominently, but Welsh, French, Spanish, Japanese and one or two Tolkien languages have appeared. Nicky Ryan (yes, Roma's husband) produces.

Origins

Enya was born in 1961 to a musical family, and from a heavily musically-influenced childhood went on to form Clannad with various siblings and two twin uncles. A slightly acrimonious split led producer Nicky Ryan and Enya to the formation of the Aigle Studio and the kickstarting of Enya's solo career.

Two instrumental pieces appeared on the 2-track cassette album Touch Travel (Good luck finding that one; console yourself with the second track which re-appeared on Watermark.) and various tracks appeared on the soundtrack to The Frog Prince, a 1984 movie. The 1986 BBC documentary The Celts provided an opportunity for Enya's first real solo album, the self-titled Enya. It didn't attract much attention at the time, but in 1988 the album Watermark produced the hit single Orinoco Flow, familiar to many for its repeated chorus of 'Sail Away' and heavy use of the Roland D-50 pizzicato strings sound, 'Pizzagogo'. The Watermark album sold eight million copies.

Success

From then onwards, Enya continued to enjoy massive success. Shepherd Moons sold ten million copies and earned a Grammy Award. The Celts was re-released, and followed some years later by The Memory Of Trees. Enya's work is used extensively in films of all kinds, sampled by bands as incongruous as The Fugees and P. Diddy, and is instantly recognisable as Enya. Enya currently has four Grammy awards under her belt, and (it probably goes without saying) is massively rich.

As with all things musical, Enya has her fair share of passionate loathers. At first listen, some may complain, the distinctive 'Enya sound' means that if you own one Enya album you own them all. In South Park. the soporific, stultifying air of Enya induces grandpa to insert a fork in a nearby electrical socket. You are, of course, free to make your own mind up, and throw Enya's music onto the still warm ashes of Chris de Burgh's massively successful Lady In Red. It'd be a sad world if we all liked the same things, now, wouldn't it?

Album Discography

1987

Enya (later re-issued with slight modifications as The Celts)

1988

Watermark

1991

Shepherd Moons

1992

The Celts (a re-issue of the first album)

1995

The Memory Of Trees

1997

Paint The Sky With Stars (A best-of collection with two new songs)

2000

A Day Without Rain

2005

Amarantine

2008

And Winter Came...

2016

Dark Sky Island 

Sinclair MK14

As with so many Sinclair projects, 1979's MK14 was a miniature computer with an equally diminutive price tag: £39.95. Notable for bringing cheap computing into our homes, those of us used to current technology may well be disappointed by the MK14's specification. Rest assured that while little more than a circuit board with a keypad and calculator-style nine-digit display, the MK14 was cheap and groundbreaking, simply by virtue of allowing anyone - not just those computer scientist boffins - to get their hands on a real, live computer. Selling over 50,000 in its time, the MK14 has since become incredibly rare, and a working MK14 is highly-prized amongst Sinclair collectors.

This single board computer didn't even have a case - there simply wasn't the option available. A tall, narrow circuit board held the various chips, which varied depending on the skill and enthusiasm of the owner: the MK14 came in kit form, so while every MK14 featured the SC/MP 2 processor, the amount of memory on there varied from 256 bytes all the way up to 640. How did this work? 256 bytes came as standard, but another 256 could be soldered onto the board, giving a grand total of half a kilobyte. And if 512 bytes just weren't enough, the optional 8154 I/O controller chip provided a further 128 bytes. In addition to this overwhelming bounty of RAM, the MK14 was also equipped with 512 bytes of ROM. The MK14 also had two edge connectors, one for attaching a better keyboard to the machine, the other simply allowing the user access to the processor's signals: an expansion port, in other words; the fore-runner to the similar feature of the ZX series.

Sir Clive was already into membrane keyboards at this point, and the 20-key membrane has much in common with the dodgy input methods that plagued early users of the ZX80, ZX81 and ZX Spectrum computers. Just to the left of the keypad was a red push button, which would reset the machine. The twenty keys were shared out into the sixteen characters necesssary for hexadecimal input, while the remaining four keys were assigned as 'Go', 'Mem', 'Abort' and 'Term'. 'Go' began program execution at the current address, 'Mem' moved on to the next address and allowed the user to assign it a hexadecimal value. 'Abort' moved to address entry mode, where the user could quickly change to a different address, rather than cycling through, and 'Term' provided a data entry mode, where memory contents could be quickly changed using the keypad.

At the heart of the MK14 was National Semiconductor's SC/MP 2 - the Simple Cost-effective Micro-Processor, running at 4.4MHz. Intended for use in control applications, the SC/MP chip was cheap, and perfect for learning about programming. Interaction with the user took place through a nine-digit display, although the machine required some hardware modification to actually use the ninth digit.

Veterans of the early ZX computers will remember how the processor would halt the display routines whilst calculating. Although the MK14 could be expanded to use a CRT, it also suffered from this peculiar but necessary design feature. Nevertheless, a 32x16 text mode and 64x64 graphics mode, although monochrome, was impressive for the time, and undoubtedly paved the way for the ZX80.

Up Pompeii!

'A sort of Carry On Up The Forum' (Radio Times Magazine)

Up Pompeii combined saucy Carry On style comedy with elements of farce to produce a well-loved vehicle for Frankie Howerd, in the role of Lurcio, to 'tickle the fancy' of the entire British public.

Beginning with a 1969 pilot episode, running through 1970 and culminating in the 1971 film version, Up Pompeii was a runaway success. Fourteen BBC episodes were made, featuring a regular cast and guest stars such as Barbara Windsor, Pat Coombs, Geoffrey Hughes and Mollie Sugden. It is for Frankie Howerd's impeccably smutty delivery that the show is truly remembered, however, proving once again that there's always room on British television for plenty of sexual innuendo and camp capers.

The format of the show was simple but effective. Lurcio was the slave of government senator Ludicrus and his buxom wife, Ammonia. Every episode, despite its innocent beginnings, would expand into a complex, usually life (or at the very least job) threatening mess, from which Lurcio would escape only through the most ingenious wriggling. Howerd toyed with the role mercilessly, dropping in an out of character as he pleased, making mocking asides to the camera, playing along with the audience in his own distinctive way. Even the plot was subject to Howerd's good-natured mockery, as he'd call the viewer's attention to the implausibility of what was going on, questioning the standard of his fellow actors and the ability of the script-writers. Far from detracting from the comedy value, Howerd's presence made the show what it was, and was, in all probability, essential to the BBC being allowed to get away with the cheap polystyrene sets and dodgy-looking costumes. When they're pointed out to you by the star of the show and you're invited to laugh along, it's difficult to find anything to complain about.

The writers of the show, Talbot Rothwell and Sid Colin, were both writers for the Carry On series of films, which explains the smut and innuendo that found its way into Up Pompeii  Furthermore, the series itself owes much to the Sondheim musical A Funny Thing Happened On The Way To the Forum, in which Frankie Howerd had already taken two roles - that of Prologus and Pseudolus. Radio Times, in fact, accurately described Up Pompeii as 'a sort of Carry On Up The Forum'.

Following the success of Up Pompeii  the writers, along with Howerd, retained the format of the show but, in a move similar to that of the later Blackadder series, shifted to a different historical period. The film Up The Chastity Belt, 1971, featured the writing skills of comedy veterans Alan Simpson and Ray Galton in collaboration with Sid Colin, and repositioned Lurcio as Lurkalot, hapless serf in the Crusades. Up The Front, from 1972, pushed Howerd forwards as the under-footman Lurk. Back on the BBC, Whoops Baghdad attempted to set Up Pompeii in an Arabian Nights scenario, whilst a 1975 Up Pompeii special really signified the end of the franchise's success, though not the end of further cashing-in attempts.

There is no doubt, however, that Up Pompeii was, and indeed still is, a classic British comedy. With Howerd's larger than life stage presence, limitless supply of saucy catchphrases and an entire legion of risqué and witty names (Ambi Dextrus, Pussus Galoria, Scrophulus, Scrubba and Tittia are but five which spring to mind...), the show was pretty much bound for success, and well worth half an hour's hilarity out of anyone's busy schedule...

' As Cleopatra said to Marc Antony: if you liked it, tell your friends!' (Lurch)

Sources: BBC Website, IMDb, Beebfun

Hot Water Pastry

Hot water pastry is a strangely-made but traditional pastry used for making raised pies. This includes the venerable pork pie, most popular in the UK (and one or two other places), but also extends to include veal or game pies. What distinguishes a raised pie from an everyday pie is the lack of pie dish. The pie itself is placed on a baking tray, and the sturdy walls of pastry are left to hold in the filling as best they can. Correctly made hot water pastry is easily up to the job, however, and constructing a hand-raised pork pie is an excellent excuse to melt a block of lard and stir in some flour.

Okay, there's a little more to it than that, but not much. Hot water pastry is simple, perhaps because it seems to break all the rules held most dear to the experienced pastry chef. Keeping it cool, refraining from overworking the mixture - all of that means nothing when it comes to hot water pastry. Something of a masochist, this pastry likes it hot and will thank you kindly for a good beating...

You'll need:
350g (12 oz) plain flour
A pinch of salt
1 egg yolk
4 tablespoons of milk
4 tablespoons of water
25g (1 oz) butter
75g (3 oz) lard

Begin by sifting the flour and salt into a bowl and making a well in the centre. Mix the egg yolk with one tablespoon of the milk and pour it into the well. Don't worry about it needing to be cold; warm milk and flour is perfectly acceptable for hot water pastry, mainly because in a moment you're going to heat the lard, butter and remaining milk and water in a saucepan.

Only heat it gently at first, just to allow the lard to melt, and then bring it to a brisk boil. Pour this into the well and mix until everything is completely blended. By this time your mixture should have cooled to the point where you can comfortably handle it, in which case it's time to tip it onto a floured work surface.

Knead it thoroughly until the pastry is smooth, at which point the pastry needs to rest for about half an hour. Keep it warm as it rests - the best way being to place in a bowl over a saucepan of hot water. Covering it with a clean cloth at this point is also beneficial.

Following this the pastry can be rolled out to a thickness of about 5 mm (quarter of an inch) and used as required. To create a pie case the pastry can be moulded around the bottom of a jar. Upon removing the jar it can be filled with whatever takes your fancy - rich pork and onion filling or a beef and gravy mixture - and topped off with a pastry lid before baking. Delicious!

Hot Water Pastry: Merely one of a series of adventures in the peculiar realms of British cuisine!

C5

'Sir Clive may seem an unlikely candidate for the Henry Ford of the 80s but if nobody ever took those risks, we would still be riding horses. There is a lot to praise in the C5, and many questions which only experience can answer in full. In the meantime, you have to admire his nerve.' Sinclair User review, Issue 36.

The tenth of January, 2005, saw the 20th birthday of the Sinclair C5, a revolutionary electric vehicle. Looking at the technology behind the C5, the vision that was the foundation for its creation, it's hard to believe the simple truth: The Sinclair C5 was a complete commercial disaster.

Let's go back to 1985. Sir Clive Sinclair was considered to be a genius. His entrepreneurial ventures into the world of electronics had quickly brought him to the attention of the world, and his products were, in a nutshell, intensely popular. Calculators, watches and miniature televisions were introduced, often in kit form, from Sinclair Research as early as 1975. By 1980 he had branched out into microcomputing, and 1982 saw him branch into home computing. The ZX Spectrum, hot on the heels of the ZX80 and 81, had already changed the world.

By 1985, Clive was into a new game. Recent changes to the British road laws included legislation concerning electrically-assisted cycles. Provided the vehicle was incapable of exceeding 15 miles per hour, anyone above the age of 14 was welcome to drive it on British roads. No insurance, no tax, no crash helmet and no driving licence required; a tempting prospect for some, that's if you didn't mind piloting a milk float. But, no - classed as a 'pedal-assisted tricycle', the Sinclair C5 was designed to fill that niche, whilst netting the newly-created Sinclair Vehicles as much money as possible in the process.

Advance speculation was rife. Woolworth's lent backing, as did the Electricity Council, for whom the idea of a rechargable electric vehicle was more than a little exciting. The occasional leak provided rumour-mills with enough information to speculate with admirable accuracy, and a much-publicised launch took place.

The result? Utter disaster. Held in the middle of winter, the C5's batteries performed badly in the near-freezing temperatures, and its wheels skated alarmingly in the snow. Safety and advertising standards bodies rose to the challenge, and the press were not slow to indulge in a frenzy of mocking. To this day, the C5 is ably villified at a moments notice, and even the enthusiastic user groups that still exist today are hard pressed to defend its many flaws. It was quickly noted that the manufacturers of the C5's motor also produced large volumes of washing-machine motors, and since nobody cared to mention that the company in question also produced the motors which power torpedoes the C5 was all too easy to mock.

Sales took a nosedive and production followed suit. After only a few months, with an impressive-sounding but ultimately disappointing 17,000 units sold mainly within the UK, the C5 project came to an end. Sir Clive took the 8.6 million pound loss squarely on the chin, shut down Sinclair Vehicles and moved his attention and enthusiasm to other projects. The intended follow-ups, the C10 and C15 were, sadly, never to see the light of day.

Technical Specifications

The Sinclair C5, at its simplest, was a 99lb, battery-powered, one-seater tricycle with a white, plastic body. Original specifications called for a radical new form of battery, since a heavy, traditional battery would be a considerable proportion of the vehicle's overall weight. In the end, the C5 shipped with a traditional 33lb lead-acid battery, doubling the weight of the vehicle instantly, and reducing battery life (and thus range) considerably. According to Sinclair Vehicles, twenty miles was the maximum range, though practically this did, of course, vary.

The sleek, futuristic design of the C5s body was the result of a collaboration with Lotus, providing room for one passenger and space for a handlebar steering system, situated beneath the passenger's thighs. The braking system provided had much in common with a standard cycle, and a button on one of the handlebars controlled acceleration, up to the maximum speed of fifteen miles per hour.

Measurement-wise, the C5 was 76cm (2'6") wide, 76cm (2'6") high and 2m (6'6") long. It featured a boot with a cubic capacity of one foot (approximately 28 litres); little more than a rucksack's-worth of space. A light at the front and rear of the vehicle completed the range of standard features, save for a liquid crystal display, described (at the time) as 'futuristic'. This basic package would set one back £399, and was only available via mail order. (Notably, the price dropped sharply to £199 as desperation set in.) Woolworth's did, initially, intend to stock the vehicle, but pulled out smartly when the road became too rocky for the C5 to comfortably travel...

Deluxe options, for those with the cash, included wing mirrors, a lengthy pole with a red flag attached, described by The Royal Society For The Prevention Of Accidents as 'essential': the low height of the C5 caused one reviewer to note that his '...head was on a level with the top of a juggernaut's tyres, the exhaust fumes blasted into my face.' Pressure from consumers and consumer groups alike forced Sinclair to include the high-visibility aerial as a standard option before long, though this did little to enhance the beleaguered tricycle's status.

C5s are now considered to be collector's items, selling for up to £900. Rumours of turbo-charged C5s are common, and one stuntman is said to have accelerated his to 70mph, at which point it is, apparently, suitable for racing through tunnels of fire.

Jeff Wayne's Musical Version of the War of the Worlds

The chances of anything coming from Mars

Are a million to one, he said.

Are a million to one, but still - they come...

A Brief History

On the 9th of June, 1978, accompanied by a glittering multimedia launch at the London Planetarium, Jeff Wayne's musical version of The War Of The Worlds was unleashed. Taken from a slightly modified version of H.G. Wells' 1898 science fiction book, the album could in no way hope to equal the success of Wells' seminal novel, considered by many to have begun the modern sci-fi genre. Nevertheless, the musical version immediately entered the UK Album Charts and stayed there for over six years, going multi-platinum in the process.

Its success is not limited merely to the UK, either. The standard release was available around the world, and in Australia it performed particularly well, achieving 12 times platinum status and managing a seven week stretch at number one. The American Billboard Charts featured War Of The Worlds for seven months, and produced sales in excess of 475,000 albums.

Add to this a variety of other versions, including a Latin American version featuring Anthony Quinn, a Spanish version and a German edition with Curt Jurgens, all of which were released three years after the original work, and all of which went on to promote the original album's success. In Spain, with the original language version of number seven and the new Spanish version at number one, the related single release of The Eve Of The War shot into the singles chart at number one.

The Eve Of The War was not the only single release: Forever Autumn also made an independent outing, and even enjoyed a slight revival as Ben Liebrand offered a remixed and revamped version for the 1989 dance scene. Indeed, since 1978, the album has offered considerable material for artists wishing to cover not only The Eve Of The War, but many other aspects of the album. Indeed, a recent release, ULLAdubULLA, offered a remix of the entire album, featuring contemporary DJs such as Hybrid and Todd Terry, presided over and compiled by none other than Jeff Wayne himself.

Between these two extremes, however, lies a success story that can be measured by the plethora of awards received by Wayne and the album itself, including Best Recording In Science Fiction, Horror and Fantasy (awarded in 1979) and number 30 of the Best Selling 100 Albums Of The Past 25 Years from BBC Radio 1. Recent re-releases on the CD format have done unexpectedly well, and the album seems to have an enduring appeal despite its occasionally dated prog-rock sound.

The Performance And The Performers

The actual music of the War Of The Worlds was composed, orchestrated, conducted and produced entirely by Jeff Wayne. Assistance with the libretto was provided by Gary Osborne and Paul Vigrass, and the actual script was based, by Doreen Wayne upon H.G. Wells' original novel.

The album consists of long instrumental pieces, linked with short vignettes of spoken narrative and the occasional song. Richard Burton plays the part of the journalist, the witness to the events of the martian invasion of earth. Other roles in the story include an Artilleryman, played by David Essex and the parson, Nathaniel, who is played by Phil Lynott, familiar to many from his involvement with Thin Lizzy. Julie Covington played the brief but important role of Beth, and further vocals were provided by Chris Thompson and Justin Hayward, the latter of whom released a single version of Forever Autumn.

The story itself is remarkably faithful to Wells' original, though there is an unusual inclusion of Carrie, the journalist's sweetheart and reason for travelling to London. Similarly, there are minor differences with the scene involving the parson, though none of these differences are as great as those made in, for example, the 1953movie. As a whole, the album hangs together coherently, and Wells' vision remains intact.

Originally a two-LP set, the War Of The Worlds is split into two discs: The Coming Of The Martians and Earth Under The Martians. The first side tells of the cylinder arriving on Earth, unscrewing to reveal a terrible creature, glistening like wet leather, rising up to sweep the surrounding countryside with its terrible, deadly heat ray. The cylinder unscrews, slowly and ominously, pumped straight into our ears, and Wayne wastes no opportunity to link the music and events together perfectly.

Side two opens with The Artilleryman and the Fighting Machine, in which we learn of the terrible power of the Martian fighting machines, and the journalist meets the young artilleryman. It is here, too, that the danger to Carrie becomes apparent, and the journalist makes his way down to London where he witnesses her escape on a steamer, and the subsequent defeat of the war ship Thunderchild by Martian fighting machines. Thus at the end of this second side the earth is enslaved to the Martians.

Side three, the second LP, introduces the red weed with slow, New World Symphony-like themes, before spilling into the frenzied, desperate encounter with the parson and Beth. A reprise of the red weed theme ends the third side with a despondent, futile feel. On the final side we meet the artilleryman once more, who this time has grand plans for a underground society. Alas, his plans do not match his work ethic, and the piece Dead London leaves us with a chilled vision of the Earth under the rule of the Martians.

The ending of the book must be familiar to all. If the reader is unfamiliar with the final outcome of the tale then it would be unwise to read further. It is at this point that bacteria come to mankind's rescue, and the first epilogue rounds the album off with a triumphant return to everyday life.

At this point, the story itself is finished. And yet with a touch of genius, Wayne moves us on to 1999, and the second part of the epilogue takes place: an incredibly chilling radio broadcast from NASA as their mission to Mars goes terribly, terribly wrong, and green flares once more erupt from the surface of the planet. It's an ending with the potential for disaster - a classic bad sci-fi film ending, but in this case it works, and it works well.

Tracklist:

1. The Eve of the War (9:06)
2. Horsell Common and the Heat Ray (11:36)

3. The Artilleryman and the Fighting Machine (10:28)
4. Forever Autumn (7:55)
5. Thunder Child (6:02)

6. The Red Weed (Part 1) (5:51)
7. The Spirit of Man (11:36)
8. The Red Weed (Part 2) (7:00)

9. Brave New World (12:08)
10. Dead London (8:37)
11. Epilogue (Parts 1 and 2) (4:35)

The tracklist as above, split into four sections, indicates the four original LPs. For the later CD releases, tracks 1 to 5 appeared on CD one, and the remaining tracks on CD two. Later, a further CD version with three extra remixes also appeared, further complicating the track arrangement. For good measure, a highlights CD is also available, edited down to a single compact disc. The recent remix album, ULLAdubULLA is also available as a double CD set, though original promo CDs featured an entirely different single compact disc.

The torment was ended. The people scattered over the country, desperate, leaderless, starved,

the thousands who had fled by sea including the one most dear to me;

all could return, the pulse of life growing stronger and stronger would beat again.

Sitting Ducks

Sitting Ducks is a children's picture book by Michael Bedard, originally published in the United States in 1998 by the Puttnam And Grosset Group, and later given a UK publication in 2000 by Walker Books, a company well known for high-quality picture book publishing. Several computer animated spin-off films have been released or are in the production process, and a tasteful number of merchandise products aimed, uncharacteristically, at art collectors, are available.

The book concerns an accident at the Colossal Duck Factory, where every day newly-hatched ducks roll off the assembly line, the first step on their journey to the plates of hungry alligators via the food-filled streets of Ducktown. One day, an unhatched egg rolls gently off one of the conveyor belts, leading to a most unusual friendship. Rather than hand the duck in, the worker alligator who discovers the little duck, his head no doubt filled with visions of duck à l'orange and hoi sin sauce, slips him into his lunchbox and sneaks him home.

Left with an array of tasty snacks each day, the alligator's plan goes extremely well, until that fateful moment the alligator realises that their growing friendship precludes the possibility of a tasty, duck-based meal later on. Of course, later on in the book the little duck wanders merrily through town, encountering something nasty in the Decoy Café along the way, thus discovering the horrible truth about Ducktown, alligators and the cruel reality of the food chain.

One cunning plan later, and the liberation of Ducktown begins. Fly or die! is the message, and eventually, after plenty of hard work, that's just what happens, and the Southern decadence of the Flapping Arms Seaside Resort becomes the new home of several thousand ducks and one (just one!) alligator.

The story, though witty and fantastic, pales into insignificance beside Bedard's art work. With smooth, airbrushed photo-realistic look, each page adds immeasurably to the story. Take, for example, the vastness of the factory, in the midst of which is a small, curious duck, his two black dot eyes somehow conveying utter astonishment and completely guilelessness. And speaking of facial expression, don't forget to take in the other diners at the restaurant when, in an awkward moment, the two friends are offered today's special: duck soup.

The best images in the book, however, surely has to be those which pay tribute to other, well-known works of art. Poker-playing dogs are replaced by a table of anthropomorphised ducks, expressing utter disbelief at the Decoy Café menu, and the little duck with his small bowl of popcorn is only missing a duck hide in the corner to be a perfect tribute to Gary Larson's The Far Side cartoon.

Of course, such in-jokes tempt one to believe that the book is not aimed at children at all. The closer look at the theme which, though extremely amusing on the surface, is suspiciously well-crafted adds to the suspicion that that the whole story is some sort of samizdat manifesto for change. It has everything: oppressed minorities, a powerful worker caste controlling the means of production, segregated ghettos for the minority and, what's more, the duck and the alligator sleep in the same bed with their arms round each other. Like Mao Tse Duck said, change must come at the barrel of a gun...

But, no, it's just a children's book, surely? Just a children's book... but a damn good one at at that.

The Tall Man

'I now understand that the Tall Man is even more enterprising than I could ever have imagined, as I have come to believe he wants nothing less than world domination and the annihilation of our species." - Don Coscarelli, creator of The Tall Man.

The Tall Man is the role for which actor Angus Scrimm was best known. Definite villain of the Phantasm series of films, while the Tall Man may not have achieved the worldwide fame that, say, Pinhead from Hellraiser has, the guy is still pretty popular amongst connoisseurs of horror.

The Tall Man, as featured in Phantasm I to III and Phantasm: Oblivion, is a complex character whose method of operation has increased in complexity throughout the films. Explanations for his behaviour, including his origin and purpose, has been covered, notably in Phantasm IV, though never truly explained. As quoted above, Don Coscarelli, writer and director of the Phantasm films, has evolved his own ideas of who (or what) the Tall Man is, eventually reaching the conclusion that he is, quite simply, the nemesis of humanity.

In Phantasm (1979), the Tall Man is introduced. Of reasonably impressive height, as you might expect, and with grey hair, Angus Scrimm goes to great lengths to screw up one side of his face, producing a surprisingly effective air of menace and dread. Mike, a young boy, recently bereaved, sees the Tall Man display inhuman strength as he removes a coffin from a grave and places it into the back of a hearse. Later in the film, the Tall Man's finger, though severed from his body, is clearly still alive, allowing Mike to convince his brother Jody and friend Reggie of the Tall Man's existence.

The Tall Man, upon further investigation, is not alone. It appears that he is stealing the bodies to create an army of evil dwarves, clad in strange blankets and with unpleasantly yellow blood. To add to this, the Tall Man is armed with shining steel spheres, which fly through the air and hook themselves into their victims. In this film, the spheres then swiftly drill into the individual's skull, pumping blood out behind them. Despite a severe crushing at the end of film one, the Tall Man returns for film two and is killed by Mike, Jody and Reggie, who inject him with his own supply of the mysterious fluids used to re-animate the corpses.

Despite even this, the Tall Man returns again, developing his trademark booming cry of 'Boy!', drawn out menacingly. By the third film, too, we understand a little more about the Tall Man's purposes. His army of spheres has increased in complexity, sporting a range of deadly gadgets to augment the Tall Man's array of dwarf-minions.

As the cycle of films progresses further, it becomes apparent to us that there is more than one Tall Man, as though his existence in our universe is merely as a representative of an entire race. Indeed, dimensional portals appear in the film, two silver poles, through which the characters are occasionally and, thankfully, briefly drawn. In the Tall Man's home dimension, barrels are stacked against a desolate, windswept desert. It is clear that the Tall Man's purpose, at this point, is to procure corpses, convert them into the dwarf people and return them to his home dimension. If, for some reason, the Tall Man dies, he is replaced immediately by another Tall Man, who appears through the same portal.

All is well by now. We have reached film three, and while we may not fully understand the Tall Man, we are happy with the explanation as given. Film four, unfortunately, titled Phantasm: Oblivion simply so that the IV can be capitalised in the sub-title, leads us a merry dance which simply confuses the issue. Mike's brother, killed long ago in the second film, appears once more, trapped inside a silver sphere. Jody somehow passes back in time, witnessing the true origins of the Tall Man: a meek, mild inventor involved in early experiments generating electricity, who somehow invents the dimensional gateway to the other dimension. It does not, it must be said, make sense, and even ardent fans of the film struggle to explain how the fourth film's mythology meshes with that of the first three.

Despite this, the Tall Man stands as a classic example of popular horror villain. Mysterious, unpleasant and quite deadly, we are somehow drawn to this depiction. Angus Scrimm may have gone on to other roles (now, alas those fabled roles in the sky…), but his continued appearances at conventions (concerning which Angus was renowned for his good humour and patience with fans, once they got over the eerie experience of meeting the Tall Man face-to-face) and other sci-fi or horror gatherings clearly showed that the Tall Man was his crowning achievement.

'I am continually amazed that the fans have so much affection for such a dark character whose trade is essentially death. Audiences enjoy laughing with the Tall Man as he does his appalling deeds." - Angus Scrimm, The Tall Man.

Sources: imdb, www.phantasm.com, Amazon, the films.

Curly Wurly

Delicious milk chocolate with a caramel centre, produced by one of the UK's leading manufacturers of confectionery - Cadbury Limited. The curly wurly is long and thin with a vaguely pretzel-like shape: imagine two long railway-lines of chewy caramel with a zig-zag crossing from one track to the other and you've pretty much got the basic idea. Furthermore, imagine a delicious coating of creamy milk chocolate and you're probably wanting one already.

The curly wurly, of course, has suffered slightly over the years, mainly due to nostalgia. The one I've just opened is around twenty centimetres long and three centimetres across. It might just be that my hands and mouth are bigger nowadays, but I'm sure that the average curly wurly was a good ten centimetres longer a couple of decades ago. And the shape - at one time they really were curly and, well... wurly, too. There was none of this zig-zag-railway-track business; there were shapes lurking in the caramel that were so weird and unearthly they would have grown men quaking with fear. There was, undoubtedly, something almost Lovecraftian about that innocent bar of sugary indulgence. Certainly the wrapper has changed; the public likes things fresh nowadays, and apparently wrapping everything in shiny plastic foil is the way to achieve this. The old waxy white paper has gone, and the curly wurly now comes resplendent in its own bubble-lettered wrapper with a rather pretty drop shadow and some swirly spirals in the background. Not that the wrapper matters; it's what's inside you really want...

But while we're discussing the wrapper, we must acknowledge the inevitable dilemma. Is it really curly wurly? There is no gap on the wrapper, thus one might assume it to be a curlywurly. However, Cadbury's own website uses the space, and anyway, you'd probably rather know more about the sweet itself than worry about a space. Speaking of Cadbury's website, a nice man called Charlie took the trouble to respond to my rather strange email ("Hey, Charlie - we've got another curly wurly obsessive here..."), and I can now share with authority that Curly Wurly has been made since at least the early 70s, has always been between twenty-five and thirty-grams, and the pattern is made in exactly the same way it's always been. This either hints at a dread conspiracy to delude the curly wurly enjoying public, or proves once and for all that the sweets you loved as a child really were exactly the same as they are now; you just remember them being three times as long and a lot more chewy.

Regardless, nowadays the Curly Wurly weighs precisely twenty-six grams, of which sixty-nine percent is soft, chewy caramel. That's glucose syrup, sweetened condensed skimmed milk, sugar, hydrogenated vegetable oil, dried whey, some emulsifiers, soya lecithin and E471, along with a bit of salt and some mysterious flavourings. Mmm! E471, by the way, is glyceryl monostearate and glyceryl distearate, but it's okay - they're just more emulsifiers and apparently a perfectly normal part of digestion anyway. (Note: If I told you height of the bar is approximately five millimetres you could even work out the density of the caramel. If you find yourself wanting to do that, seek professional help.)

The rest of it, of course, is chocolate. Lovely chocolate, with fourteen percent milk solids, and an unspecified quantity of cocoa solids. And, in the twenty seconds it takes you to bite and chew you'll be pleased to hear that the delightful sum of 115 calories will become yours. Frankly, it's worth it.

Fischerspooner

Fischerspooner: New York Retro-Electro Performance Artists
'Fischerspooner is probably the strangest band ever' - Vanity Fair

When it comes to Fischerspooner there are two prevalent views. Firstly, that they are a triumph of style over substance. Alternately, they are a triumph of substance who just happen to have a great sense of style. That said, there are those who love (or hate) Fischerspooner simply for the music and don't even stop to consider their hidden depths.

The music is blatantly electronic and manipulated to the extreme with samplers, computers and pro tools. Rarely does an entire verse of song go by without some vocal effect taking the lyrics and stretching them out into an ecstasy of robotic noise. Pulsing, eighties-style basslines prove that Giorgio Moroder was truly a genius, and that the description 'Flashdance meets Kraftwerk' isn't too far from the mark. But there's more than just the music... Vanity Fair isn't wrong when they say that Fischerspooner is probably the strangest band ever...

The Two Sides Of Fischerspooner

Fischerspooner are, at their most complex, a group of New York performance artists who combine elaborate costumes and complex choreography with retro electronic music. They are, according to Casey Spooner, an 'experiment in entertainment and all the things that entertainment entails, from image to publicity to live events...', and he and Warren Fischer are joined by an entire troupe of dancers and wardrobe personnel to produce their all-encompassing live show.

Simplifying this a little, we have the Fischerspooner that most people are familiar with. Stripped down to Casey Spooner and Warren Fischer, this version of Fischerspooner have so far produced one album, remixed Kylie's Come Into My World and made a name for themselves with the track Emerge, now remixed a myriad times, as only a band's flagship song can be.

Fischerspooner: The Performance Art Aspect

Fischerspooner have a problem with the truth. As Casey Spooner puts it, 'If there's anything you want to write, lie. It would be great to read a whole load of press cuttings that didn't resemble each other'. Which explains, quite neatly, why it's virtually impossible to pin down the members of Fischerspooner's live show: some reports list around fifteen members, others as many as twenty-five. What is clear, however, is the central core: five main members, accompanied by however many dancers, choreographers, filmmakers, photographers and graphic designers as are necessary.

Warren Fischer and Casey Spooner form the main impetus for the performance, ably assisted by Jeremiah Clancy, more often known as Peanuts. The two final members of the inner circle are Lizzy Yoder and Cindy Greene.

The Fischerspooner Five: A Little More Detail:

Warren Fischer: The son of a psychology professor and an opera diva, Warren grew up in Los Angeles and Wisconsin. He spent much of his youth performing as a violinist and, eventually, headed for the Art Institute of Chicago where, in a video arts class he ran into Casey Spooner.

Casey Spooner: Brought up in Athens, Georgia in South Carolina, Casey Spooner is a self-confessed art fag. Attending the same school as Warren Fischer, he originally started out with an experimental theatrical group, leading to a fledgling band, Table and an eventual collaboration with Warren Fischer.

Peanuts: An attendee of Marquette University, Wisconsin, Peanuts was inspired by a cassette of Fischerspooner playing live. Peanuts' main task is to assist Casey with his costume changes whilst onstage.

Lizzy Yoder / Cindy Greene: Lizzy and Cindy's tasks are very similar to Casey's. More than backup singers but not quite lead performers, Lizzy and Cindy enjoy the same attention to costume as Casey, and are an integral part of the Fischerspooner live performance.

Fischerspooner: The Retro-Electro Aspect

Electroclash is now a dirty word. Founder Larry Tee verged on genius when he coined the phrase, but nodes like How To Make Electroclash are perfect examples of just how low a genre can go.

It is unfortunate for Fischerspooner, then, that following a couple of self-funded releases and an under-noticed release under International Deejay Gigolos, they were quickly snapped up by Ministry Of Sound and touted as pure electroclash. It worked well at the time, but even stalwarts of the scene like Miss Kittin and DJ Hell are eschewing its virtues for a more rounded, modern style of music.

Regardless, Fischerspooner's demurely titled initial album '#1' - either a logical choice of name intended to be followed by '#2' or a rather hopeful bid for a chart position - rapidly made an impression and their popularity seems to have endured beyond the brief electroclash scene. Hailed by NME as the 'best thing to happen to music since electricity', Fischerspooner have had no trouble eliciting similar responses from a whole range of journalists. The release of a successful album and a well-known single, Emerge, is an important time for any band. It was at this point, rather strangely, that Fischerspooner elected to go quiet for a while.

And so it is that Fischerspooner have, since #1's 2002 release, remained virtually silent, popping up once more in late 2002 to give Kylie the retro electronic treatment on Top Of The Pops. Recent activity (a cover of the Pink Panther theme and a mashed-up remix of Emerge on the Queer Eye For The Straight Guy soundtrack) along with the odd press release shows, however, that this time is coming to an end. With finishing touches from French producer Mirwais, Fischerspooner have collaborated with David Byrne, Susan Sontag and Tony Hoffer to produce their follow-up album. Just Let Go was released as a single, for which many fans were truly thankful, and the album Odyssey was finally released into the wild in 2005.

The Wolves Of Willoughby Chase

"A masterpiece... a copybook lesson in those virtues that a classic children's book must possess." (Time Magazine)

So, Joan Aiken's The Wolves of Willoughby Chase is considered to be a classic children's book. Do not allow this to put you off. Even when you pick up the book and read the back cover, do not be put off. Yes, it involves a cruel governess, an ancestral home, running away and orphanages. Put like that, it sounds dreadful and makes you want to brace yourself for an onslaught of dense, Victorian-esque prose.

But the Wolves of Willoughby Chase is far from dreadful. Set in an alternate version of the 18th century, England is chock-full of wolves, who have entered Britain through the Channel Tunnel. (Yes, Aiken was well aware of the usefulness of connecting France and England way back in 1962.) The wolves are everywhere, and make travel dangerous - even the train does not afford complete safety. More practically, the wolves provide another aspect of tension and horror to the story, as if that provided by the adult characters were not enough...

The story centres around two little girls, Bonnie and Sylvia. Sylvia is an orphan cousin, who arrives at the stunning home of Lord Willoughby and Lady Green just in time for the two adults to vanish off to sea in an attempt to improve Lady Green's health. The house is left in the charge of yet another distant relative, the grimly-named Letitia Slighcarp. Rapidly, the idyllic plot thickens and turns rather sour. With her accomplice, Mr Grimshaw, Slighcarp despatches the two children to a distant orphanage and sets about claiming Willoughby Chase as her own.

Inevitably, the two girls are keen for Bonnie's parents to return. With the aid of Simon, an independent and resourceful young lad, they escape from the orphanage and, as you'd expect, set about ensuring a happy ending.

The Wolves of Willoughby Chase is, at its simplest, a classic Victorian romance. Orphans and vicious criminals abound, there are sudden deaths, miraculous resurrections and forged wills all over the place. It could have, quite easily, turned into a seething miasma of overly-plotted rubbish, yet Aiken, with undeniable skill, draws the whole thing together into a classic, readable children's story which has stood the test of time. Readers will wish to move onto the sequel, the intriguingly-titled 'Black Hearts In Battersea'.

Those of a less literary nature will wish to check out the film version, a 1988 UK production which features a young Jane Horrocks and an intensely creepy Stephanie Beacham as Slighcarp. There's even a soundtrack CD available.

Kalonji

Found throughout India, kalonji bushes grow to approximately half a meter and possess blue flowers. Originally from Turkey and Italy, particular effort has been made to cultivate the plant in Asia. After flowering the plant produces small black seeds about the same size as sesame seeds - they are slightly triangular in shape, and are about 40% oil, along with albumen, sugar, organic acids, glucoside melanthin metarbin and other bitter subtances, all of which combine to give a slightly peppery, vaguely nutty flavour.This explains kalonjis use in curries, dahls, as a topping for naan bread and other Indian dishes. A quarter of a tablespoon of kalonji, dry roasted in a pan for a few minutes, will add a delicious flavour to almost anything.

However, by far the most interesting thing about kalonji is its medicinal qualities, which really are quite legendary, though almost certainly apocryphal. The tongue-in-cheek declaration that kalonji is a cure for everything except death is a grand, if rather unlikely, claim. However, kalonji is rumoured to be an emmenagogue, lactogogue and diuretic. When taken with vinegar it is an anti-helminthic and its smell is rumoured to help with the common cold. Kalonji oil supposedly makes short work of alopecia, and asthmatics may find it helpful to make tea out of half a teaspoon. The toxic effects of bee and wasp stings are neutralised along with, hopefully, those less common but just as pesky mad dog bites. Paralysis, facial palsy, migraine, amnesia and palpitation have no chance against kalonji, and its use as an expectorant and antipyretic is legendary, too. Jaundice, kidney stones, inflamed gums - even haemorrhoids. Having rounded off all those, you are left wondering just what's so complicated about death that a spoonful of kalonji couldn't get you back on your feet.

The kalonji bush's Latin name is Nigella sativa, leading to the seeds sometimes being known as Nigella, though they are also sometimes known as black onion seeds. They need to be kept away from light, really, if they are to maintain their flavour. The most enjoyable way to do this is to hide them in Bombay potatoes and mercilessly devour them.

Heart Of Glass

Heart Of Glass is one of Blondie's most popular and well-known tracks, first appearing as track ten of the album Parallel Lines alongside four other well known Blondie hits: Hanging On the Telephone, One Way Or Another, Picture This and Sunday Girl.

The album Parallel Lines is considered by many to be Blondie's best album, and it must be said that if the Parallel Lines album was the one that catapulted Blondie into the public eye on both sides of the Atlantic, then Heart Of Glass was the song that made it all happen. A departure from previous styles, the driving bass and glimmering synths all layered beautifully over Debbie Harry's voice to produce a storming disco hit. Released as a single in April 1979, following the album release in September of the previous year, Heart Of Glass went to number one, leading bass guitarist Nigel Harrison to apologise for the sound, calling it a compromise with commerciality. Debbie Harry didn't see it that way, particularly since the phrase pain in the ass caused objections from some radiostations. (These radio stations were eventually issued with an alternate version missing the offending line...)

The song itself was given a reggae twist to produce the bonus track Once I Had A Love, and was also taken to greater extremes of synth-heaven with the Disco Version. What's more, Debbie took to opportunity to showcase her new haircut, and more extreme quantities of lipgloss than should ever appear in a pop video.

A 1995 re-release offered the opportunity for new single releases taken from the Blondie Beautiful remix album; one of the three songs chosen was Heart Of Glass. This remixed version (Diddy's Adorable Illusion Edit) reached 15 in the UK charts, though it stayed there for only three weeks. Also included were the full version of Diddy's Adorable Illusion Mix, Richie Jones Club Mix, MK 12" Mix and the Original 12" Mix.

Of course, such a popular song has appeared on a thousand compilation CDs, and has been covered many times, by such diverse bands as Erasure (who performed the track live before releasing it as a b-side, and went on to cover Rapture, complete with Vince Clarke rap), The Shadows, Lunachicks and a veritable range of cut-price Blondie-wannabe drag queens.

Once I had a love and it was a gas
Soon turned out had a heart of glass
Seemed like the real thing only to find
Mucho mistrust, love's gone behind

In between what I find is pleasing
And I'm feeling fine, love is so confusing
There's no peace of mind if I fear I'm losin' you
It's just no good, you teasin' like you do

Once I had a love and it was divine
Soon found out I was losing my mind
It seemed like the real thing but I was so blind
Mucho mistrust, love's gone blind

Lost inside adorable illusion and I cannot hide
I'm the one you're using, please don't push me aside
We coulda made it cruisin', yeah
Coulda made it cruisin', yeah

Once I had a love and it was a gas
Soon turned out to be a pain in the ass
But I was so blind
Mucho mistrust, love's gone behind

Yeah, riding high on love's true bluish light...

Heart Of Glass was produced by Mike Chapman and was given a UK release in January 1979 and a US release in April of the same year. It reached number one in both countries, and spent twelve weeks in the UK chart. A July 1995 UK re-release reached only 15, spending three weeks in the chart.

Cheese Scones

Cheese scones were always regarded as a bit of a luxury when I was a child. The reasoning behind this was the cheese, you see, which cost money. And despite this, the cheese scones were never very cheesy. Presumably it was the cost. Recipes for cheese scones abound with the cheese weighing in at about one ninth of the weight of the recipe. The rest is self-raising flour, which is cheap, cheap, cheap.

But, to my mind, if you're going to make cheese scones then the damn things should taste of cheese. And I don't mean just the top half a centimetre where someone's sprinkled some grated cheese prior to slamming them in the oven. There are a couple of practical ways of doing this. Firstly, you could add more cheese. Or, secondly, you could chop the cheese coarsely and add it to the mixture rather than grating it. Then you get chunks of intense cheese flavour rather than a diluted cheesy vagueness. Apparently.

Ingredients

225g of self raising flour. We have this here in the UK. It's plain flour with a bit of baking powder in it. Consult a chef or the side of a tub of baking powder if you want to make your own; they'll give you proper instructions.

55g of butter. Add a bit more if you're feeling generous.

25g of cheese. But no - let's ignore that. Double it. And add some more. But don't go wild. Let's say 75g of good tasty cheese, keeping a bit to scatter on top.

150ml milk. Cow's, usually, but feel free to experiment with soya, rice, almond, goat or whatever comes to hand.

Method

Quite literally easier than pie. Rub the butter into the flour, add a pinch of salt to season and then add the cheese. Make a dough with the milk and it's all ready to roll out to about 2cm thick (about 3/4 of an inch) and cut into little circles with an appropriately sized cutter. Aim for about twelve.

Pop them in the oven at 220°C (or 425°F) and wait for about 15 minutes until they're golden brown, maybe a little less. I made some and they were very brown by the time quarter of an hour had gone past. Oh, and they'll rise during cooking, as well.

A word about 'scones'

Now you've finished, was that what you were expecting? We call them scones over here in the UK, and they seem to originate from Scotland. Most of us pronounce it 'sc-on' and some of us pronounce it 'sc-oh!-n'. It's a bit like bread buns, tea cakes, barm cakes, rollsand baps; all the same thing, just pronounced differently.

Perhaps you call them biscuits, in which case what do you call proper biscuits? Probably cookies. Over here, we call cookies biscuits and biscuits scones, then. Exciting, isn't it?

Regardless of nomenclature: make... and enjoy.

Lord of Illusions

In brief:

The Lord Of Illusions is a 1995 film from Clive Barker which attempts to blend the horror and film noir genres. It stars Scott Bakula, most famed for his time-travelling adventures in 80s sci-fi series Quantum Leap, and Daniel von Bargen. Bakula, at the time not an obvious choice for the role of detective Harry d'Amour, is now enjoying some success in Enterprise, and his performance in the film is certainly competent enough. Von Bargen, d'Amour's opposite, offers a similarly appropriate performance as Nix, a misguided and murderous cult leader, determined to destroy the world one piece at a time.

Plot Summary:

As is common with Barker's film work (see Nightbreed and Hellraiser), the script is based upon Barker's writing. In this case a short story, The Last Illusion, provides the basis for the screenplay, although it has undergone significant changes. Best thought of as variations on a theme, both versions are based upon a simple premise: there are two worlds of magic. One, the domain of the conjuror, based on trickery and sleight of hand. The other is real. Real in the sense of blood, grit, power and a sinister desire to take over the world. Nix, as is so common in such films, has both the necessary power to destroy and a lust for destruction to go with it. Early on in the film he is shot, bound and buried by a young ex-cult member, Swann, yet still presents a threat to the world. His loyal cult members, though disbanded, patiently await his resurrection. Their efforts are hampered only by Swann, who has used Nix's teachings to become a highly successful stage magician. Through Swann d'Amour becomes drawn into this shadowy world and, ultimately, must battle to stop the resurrection taking place.

Comments:

As is unfortunately becoming common with Barker's film work since Nightbreed, a glittering, promise-filled launch led to mediocre reviews and poor viewing figures. Such poor performance is ultimately blamed on unneccessary cuts, lack of specific genre and too much intelligent script. To be fair, the cinematic release did feature many minutes of cuts which entirely altered the structure of the story; with the director's cut a whole plethora of background information is restored, and the rather strange actions of Nix's cultsuddenly become much easier to understand. As is standard with Barker, a whole host of torn flesh and gore was removed. Barker himself muses during the DVD commentary on how certain scenes were only allowed by the censors if they were rendered in black and white to dull the effect of the blood.

The movie was accompanied by a haunting Simon Boswell soundtrack, and also featured songs by Diamanda Galas, Joshua White, Brave Combo and a rather sinister version of Magic Moments by Erasure. The soundtrack CD is available on Mute Records.

A sterling performance in the movie, one which must be acknowledged, is that of Barry Del Sherman, whose rendition of Butterfield is astounding. Sexually ambiguous and possessed of cold, calculating cruelty, the scene in which he tortures Swann's right hand man for vital information about Nix's grave is both chilling and terrifying.

Those familiar with Barker's work will, of course, recognise the character of d'Amour, who is the nearest thing Barker has to a recurring character. His appearances throughout Clive's work are few but interesting: thus far he has appeared in the short story The Last Illusion and has bit-parts in The Great And Secret Show and Everville.

Release Details:

Lord Of Illusions was directed by Clive Barker, and released by MGM in 1995.

Video and DVD versions of Lord Of Illusions are easily available, both of which contain the superior Director's Cut. Additionally, the DVD features a commentary by Clive Barker, various deleted scenes and an opportunity to hear the isolated music score, which is also available on CD.

Cast Details:

Scott Bakula: Harry D'Amour
Kevin J. O'Connor: Philip Swann
Famke Janssen: Dorothea Swann
Vincent Schiavelli: Valentin Vinovich
Barry Del Sherman: Butterfield
Sheila Tousey: Jennifer Desiderio
Joel Swetow: Valentin
Joseph Latimore: Caspar Quaid
Susan Traylor: Maureen Pimm
Daniel von Bargen: Nix

Nighty Night

Nighty Night is a rather dark British comedy which was originally broadcast on the BBC from January 2004 onwards. There have been two series, and it would seem from the ending of the second series that while it's not entirely out of the question, it's unlikely to be back for a third.

The show's writer and star is Julia Davis, who'll be familiar to many comedy fans from Chris Morris' Jam series, Human Remains in which she starred with Rob Brydon, and the sketch programme Big Train. The programme, actually, has much in common with the Jam style of humour - when I said 'dark British comedy', I meant it.

Jill Tyrell, the focus of the series, is essentially a sociopath. She manipulates those around her ruthlessly, and by the end of the first series she's been instrumental in the murder of an increasing number of people. I don't want to spoil anything, so we'll be vague about the exact number. Regardless, things continue: by the end of the second series, she's kidnapped a baby, hacked a young girl's nose off, run down and subsequently impersonated an innocent woman, and accused an eleven year old boy of rape. She manages to tear apart a couple of relationships, systematically bullies and abuses a woman with MS, and holds an elaborate funeral for her still-living husband, whose slow recovery from cancer doesn't quite fit in with Jill's plans for a bachelorette lifestyle.

It doesn't sound that funny, actually, does it? Cancer, murder, rape and a large carrier bag full of dog poo. But, oh, it is! Honestly - if you've enjoyed the slightly off the wall humour of The League Of Gentlemen or Jam, you'll take to Nighty Night like a duck to a particularly dark and menacing body of water.

Series 1 and 2 are both available on DVD here in the UK, and Amazon.com carries a region 1 version aimed at the US market. Indeed, there are rumoured plans for a US version, directed by the guy who does Sex And The City, Darren Star. So far it hasn't materialised, and given the track record for taking successful UK comedies and remaking them in the US, that might not be a bad thing.

Cast

Julia Davis - Jill Tyrell
Kevin Eldon - Terry Tyrell
Angus Deayton - Don Cole
Rebecca Front - Cathy Cole
Mark Gatiss - Glen Bulb
Ruth Jones - Linda
Michael Fenton Stevens - Gordon Fox
Felicity Montagu - Sue Fox

Nebulous

Nebulous is a science fiction radio comedy which was first broadcast in 2005. There are currently three series, the first of which is available on CD from BBC Audio.

The comedy of Nebulous is mainly parody and clever wordplay, although the series does feature recurring jokes and numerous catchphrases. It clearly pays homage to Doctor Who, right from the first bars of the swirling, retro-electronic theme tune, but there are hints of Professor Quatermass in there. I'm even told it bears elements in common with Doomwatch, though I'm unfamiliar with the programme and so usually shrug and say 'Oh, really?'. Which is a shame, because Wikipedia says Doomwatch 'dealt with a scientific government agency led by Doctor Spencer Quist, responsible for investigating and combating various ecological and technological dangers'.

The world of Nebulous is on a post-apocalyptic Earth, in 2099 after 'the Withering'. During the Withering, much of human knowledge was destroyed, and a dreadful cattle-clasm destroyed almost all livestock. The Earth's geography has been altered, and there is a new season called Hamble - permanently dark, cold and drizzly. Information pieced together since the Withering is distorted - the knowledge of the vacuum cleaner has been lost forever, and children's television programme Bod is now worshipped as the creator of the universe, along with three other mistakenly-identified gods.

To cope with this trauma, K.E.N.T. (the Key Environmental Non-Judgemental Taskforce) was formed, its goal to ensure natural balance and harmony on Earth. They're not very good at it, yet every episode manage to come out on top. Tragically underfunded, K.E.N.T. are forced to supplement their economy with laundry services.

I could ramble on like this forever, so lets just put it this way: Did you like Red Dwarf, but wouldn't have minded it being a little less childish and a bit more intelligent? Did you enjoy Hitchhikers but wouldn't have minded it being a little less meaning-of-life and a bit more childish? Then here's Nebulous - it's bloody brilliant.

The programme is written by Graham Duff, who also stars as Rory Lawson. Professor Nebulous is none other than the simply divinely splendid Mark Gatiss, and there's Paul Putner and Rosie Cavaliero in there as Harry and Paula. Harry was disfigured in an awful accident while Nebulous tried to move the Isle Of Wight just a bit to the left, and Paula is as thick as two short planks and hopelessly in love with the professor. Graham Crowden is as sublimely dry as ever, and David Warner makes a most wonderfully sinister arch-nemesis Klench. There are even guest stars in series two and three - Peter Davidson, Steve Coogan, Kate O'Mara, Julia Davis and David Tennant.

Did I mention that it was bloody brilliant?

António de Oliveira Salazar

António de Oliveira Salazar (April 28, 1889 - July 27, 1970)

Originally the professor of political economics at a Portuguese university, in 1932 Salazar was handed power by President Carmona and became the Prime Minister of Portugal, a position he was to hold for the next 36 years, until 1968.

In the year following his rise to authority, Salazar introduced a new constitution, providing him with near unlimited power and establishing an authoritarian fascist regime under which Salazar functioned more as a dictator than prime minister. His Estado Novo penalised the poorer sections of Portuguese society and enhanced the life of the upper classes, all at the expense of education and other areas Salazar saw as relatively unimportant.

Despite the existence of a secret police, the PIDE, whose function was, as expected, to repress any form of dissent, the Salazar regime was far less bloody than that of his contemporaries; the lack of a Portuguese death penalty no doubt influencing this to a certain degree.

Through World War II, Salazar was careful to steer an uncontroversial middle path, never overtly allying with the Nazis and, on occasion, providing aid to the Allied forces, undoubtedly to ensure that Portuguese colonies would remain free of Allied intervention. It was because of this that the Azores were available to the Allies as a base.

Indeed, at this time, Portugal was in control of a range of colonies, and it was a source of some pride to Salazar that Portugal could claim status as the third major colonial power. Although Salazar felt no need to expand any colonies, he maintained outposts in Azores, Madeira, Cape Verde Islands, Principe Island, Sao Tome Island, Angola, Guinea-Bissau, Cabinda and Mozambique, various parts of India, as well as Macau and East Timor in Southeast Asia.

The importance to Salazar that Portugal be considered an international success led to him seeking admittance to NATO, which took place in 1949. This too, reflected Portugal in a new light, taking its place as an ally against communism. The empire, however, remained a continual source of trouble for Salazar, particularly during the times of the African colonial wars, and the Indian capture of various Portuguese cities in 1961.

In 1968, Salazar fell victim to brain damage after falling from a chair, and was later dismissed by President Américo Tomás. As a result of this illness, Salazar continued to believe himself to be Prime Minister, remaining unaware that he had been succeeded by Marcelo Caetano in September of 1969.

Sources: www.bartleby.com, www.free-definition.com, Encyclopaedia Britannica.

Strongbow Cider

Strongbow is a strong, dry cider produced by HP Bulmer Ltd, a Hereford company renowned for their ciders, who also produce a range of other drinks. With an alcohol content of 5.3%, a half-litre can of Strongbow quickly knocks up 2.7 UK units, so the odd drink here and there can very swiftly suck up an entire week's worth of units in a very short space of time. The taste of apple is prominent, and the dryness of the cider is tempered somewhat by this crisp bite, and the addition of sugar and other sweeteners further helps to produce a cider which is refreshing, whilst not overly fruity. The sweetness lingers, however... not always a good thing.

Strongbow is named after the Norman knight Richard de Clare, later to become the Earl of Pembroke. Nicknamed 'strongbow' by his troops for his prowess with the longbow, an arrow slamming into a bar has long been a feature of the strongbow brand's advertising. Strongbow is a gold medal winner at the International Beer and Cider Competition, London, and stands recently stood at number eight in the top ten chart of UK best selling long alcoholic drinks. It accounts for a quarter of all cider sold in the UK, by far the best selling brand. Bulmer's are not keen to rest on their laurels, however, and relatively recently produced Super Strongbow, designed to compete with (or complement) t he high-alcohol white ciders such as Diamond White or White Lightning, both aimed at the less discerning end of the market. Differing greatly in flavour and, more importantly, in alcohol content, it is unlikely that Super Strongbow will ever threaten, let alone detract from, sales of Strongbow. Strongbow Ice and Light versions also exist, have existed and will exist, depending on the market at the time. Seriously - these brews are produced, marketed, re-marketed and ultimately re-moved with little to no warning, depending on the vagaries of the intended consumers.

As well as being the UK's most popular cider, Strongbow is also widely available in Australia, where Fosters also claim the title of most popular brand. Strongbow down under is a little different, however, having nothing to do with Bulmer's at all. The Australian version seems a tiny bit more exciting, somehow, containing 90% apple and 10% pear - a combination that leads to a 5.0% alcohol content. One can't help but imagine, though, that 10% pear juice might just make up for that 0.3% drop.

Bletchley Park

Bletchley Park was the top secret wartime base of Allied code-breakers, housing such luminaries as Alan Turing and Dilly Knox. Work at Bletchley focused on decryptingvarious coding systems, during the Second World War. These efforts, painstaking and work-intensive, were vital to the Allied victories at that time. Bletchley Park itself is situated near Milton Keynes, within a reasonable distance of London.

Bletchley Park: A Short History

In the summer of 1939, a small team of scholars arrived at Bletchley Park, travelling under the codename Captain Ridley's Shooting Party. Their aim was to crack the code used by the Germans to communicate. This code, the Enigma cypher, was seemingly unbreakable, yet it was vital to the Allied forces success that the code be broken. Other German codes, Ultra and Lorenz were also cracked by the Bletchley Park codebreakers, though Enigma remains the most famous.

Although the operation began with such a small group, before long the Bletchley Park mansion was crowded with teleprint machines and work surfaces, and an increasing number of personnel. By October further space was desperately needed, and Hut 1 was built, rapidly followed by further huts and even new brick buildings. All workers from Bletchley were housed in the local area, leaving the estate itself purely as a place of work, now known as Station X, where page after page of German codes were eventually, with constant hard work, deciphered.

A vital part of breaking these codes was the use of brute force calculation, performed by a vast array of circuit boards and spinning drums: Colossus, the worlds first computer, built specifically to crack the German codes. The procedures for deciphering messages was as follows:

Codebreaking:

Around the country, listening posts known as Y stations would receive and transcribe Encrypted Enigma messages in morse code. This work, painstaking and time-consuming, provided the raw material for Bletchley Park. It was particularly important to capture the first three blocks of each message, for it was in this section that the key to decoding each message was found.

These intercepted messages were sent, using a variety of methods, to Bletchley Park. Sometimes radio would be used; other methods included the teleprinter or even via dispatch rider. At peak times, up to 3000 messages would arrive each day - a rate of forty dispatch riders per hour.

Once these messages were deciphered they were translated into English, the resulting message analysed for significance and distributed to where it was needed. This message would be read and then destroyed to avoid allowing Axis forces to realise their code had been broken. Steps were also taken to ensure that no Allied action was taken which might give away the Allied Forces knowledge of the German information.

After The War:

It is undeniable that the work which took place at Bletchley Park shortened the war considerably, and, in doing so, saved countless lives. Although Bletchley Park is now in the charge of The Bletchley Park Trust, revered as a site of great historical importance, it is hard to believe the complexities faced by the trust to achieve this. Although over 10,000 people worked at Bletchley at the height of its work, by March 1946 the building was deserted, with all evidence of work removed.

Winston Churchill referred to the workers of Bletchley as 'the geese that laid the golden eggs and never cackled', such was the secrecy with which the work was carried out and then dismantled. Decades later, by 1991, Bletchley Park was facing demolition. The Bletchley Park Trust battled against hostile bids from property dealers and struggled with government bureaucracy to purchase Bletchley. Eventually, of course, the Trust succeeded, and Bletchley Park now houses a range of facilities for tourists and those who wish to see for themselves the place where these momentous wartime events took place.

www.bletchleypark.org.uk is available for further details.