Winter of content.

Alright! Just completed the latest Census form, and I did it online! Woooo! The Future is Now! It’s swerved on up the Information Superhighway’s off-ramp and it’s here in your living room RIGHT NOW so get on-board or get run over!! ‘Information Superhighway’. Remember that? There’s a phrase I’m glad has fallen into disuse. Can’t remember the last time I heard someone use it. In a non-sarcastic way, at least.

So yeah, Census 2006. Pretty exciting. It’s history in the making. Millions of people cooperating to capture a moment in time for future generations to look back upon and discover that yes, I did have internet access in my home in August 2006. The other appeal for me is that it’s a form to fill out. I love filling out forms. There’s something very satisfying about it. I’m not quite sure what it is.

So did everyone tick the release this information in 99 years box? Or did you feel Big Brother breathing a little too hard down your neck? Did you mark down your religion as ‘Jedi Knight’? If yes, are you a stroker? Wait, don’t answer: I already know. :-)

The best part of this Census was filling in Winter’s details. She’s really a real person now! Are those last two sentences enough of an excuse to post another photo of her? Of course it is.


Quick update, if you’re interested: Happiest baby alive. Sleeping well, feeding well and growing faster than the number of Jedi in Australia. Much faster. She’s trying to talk and coming out with all sorts of weird squawks. Sometimes I’m on the phone to Kate and it sounds like there’s a frantic bird trapped inside attacking her. Winter’s also trying to laugh. It never occurred to me that we need to learn how to laugh! She takes these large gulps of air and makes a funny noise, but mostly ends up with a fit of hiccups. Maybe we’ll have to get David Brent to give her a few pointers? Come on, trust me. Ay? Yeah? Hoohoohoo.

UPDATE: ARGH! The Jedi hilarity has mutated into a tool for social activism! Last night I was fenced into a corner of the tram by two very serious and very earnest young women who were talking with pride about listing their religion on the Census as 'Greenie'. "It felt so good doing that because, like, if enough people do it, the Government will have to pay attention." Yeah, good luck with that. Let me know how it works out.

Go figure.

So apparently a couple of the mouth-breathers on Big Brother were having a discussion about why the game show they were on had the name it did. ‘Big Brother’ didn’t seem right. Wouldn’t ‘Father Figure’ be a better name?

Gretel, of course, smirked it for all it was worth, presenting them with their own copies of ‘Nineteen Eighty-Four’ once they were evicted. I didn’t see the presentation, but I can just imagine the smarm. “Here you go, dummies. Go and read a book and get yourself an education,” like she’s so much better than they are. Sure, they should have at least a vague awareness of where Big Brother comes from, but I reckon the greater sin is committed by Gretel. She’s (apparently) read the book, knows who Big Brother is, and yet is still comfortable using the name for her fluffy, vacuous, trivial bit of nothing of a game show. That's what's really tragic. George Orwell's spinning so fast he could power a small city.

Microsoft tackles population control.

Microsoft has been accused of a lot of things over the years, but never direct child abuse. (Unless you consider children using Windows as a form of abuse?) But now, in response to new business moves by Microsoft, Rob Glaser, the unhappy CEO of RealNetworks, has come right out and declared, "We think this a case where our technology competitors, in this case specifically Microsoft, have literally thrown the baby out with the bath water." Glory! Sounds like Uncle Bill needs to forget his charity work and get back behind the keyboard at Redmond because things are flying out of control!

And thanks, Rob, for a real-life cracker to add to my collection. :-)

More delays.

Connex is my new best friend. Sure, sure, they haven’t improved their trains’ punctuality or lowered the contact point for their SMS delay service, but they did send me free stuff! And who can resist the wooing power of free stuff?!


I really love the imagery for their current campaign. I think it was a bold move by whoever pitched the concept, and an even bolder one by whoever approved it. I like that it avoids the common, safe and boring diverse blend of ages and ethnicities, with equal representation of males and females, easily and successfully using [insert your product here], and goes instead for giant, rampaging beavers, guinea pigs, Venus fly-traps and fleets of flying saucers all wreaking havoc.

“Giant, rampaging what?! Our valued customers can’t relate to a giant beaver! No, no; we need large, glossy, full-colour prints of a diverse blend of ages and races, with equal representation of men and women, of course, all being successfully engaged and assisted by one of our many, friendly Connex Service Executives. Now that’s the ticket! Sign off on that one, beaver boy.”


I thought some sample images might go well with this post, but rather than try and track down the right number of bus shelters and billboards dotted across town, I thought I’d go right to the source. A quick email to Connex got an even quicker reply! Christie told me she had “a spare copy of each poster” if I would like them, and that I could go in to pick them up, or she could even post them directly to me if I’d like! The next day, there they were. They should put Christie in charge of the SMS service. So 10 out of 10 for customer service, Connex. (Even if the “set” did end up being only two posters, not the expected five. But I no complain).


So, attention Connex, my next irritable rant has been delayed, and is now expected in… oh, I don’t know. Some time later. I apologise for any hurt feelings I’ve caused.

A new head Bobs into town.

You know, I thought Beck’s head on that Dandy set of shoulders was as good a match as you’d be likely to find, but now I’m not so sure. Bobby Timmons has just swaggered into town, you see, looking for a place to lay his head, and I thinks those Dandy shoulders might suit him just fine.

Actually, I say ‘swaggered’ into town, but it was more of a squeeze, like toothpaste from a tube. Or a caterpillar from a cocoon. Indeed, he must’ve been stuck inside Radiohead for some time because the 'Bends' guy looks quite relieved to have him out.


So Bobby’s on the screen, but so far he’s yet to make his move. I can only guess he’s getting the lay of the land, measuring the pixels, seeing what kind of a hold Beck has on those well-known, bohemian shoulders. As you can see below, Bobby’s out in force down south, looking north with a determined gaze.


And Beck’s clearly concerned. He’s making a show of staying close, flitting around like a peacock if a peacock was to flit, but when Bobby flips in, Beck flips right the hell out as soon as iTunes’ll let him.


So this is getting pretty exciting, yeah?

Hello?

[Crickets chirp. Somewhere a wolf howls.]

Well anyway, the tension is building, but will the build-up be worth it? Will Bobby’s head prove to be a better match than Beck’s? Who can say, who can predict? Don’t worry, don’t worry; you will get to see for yourselves. I’m like a deer hunter, watching, lying in wait, ready to snap off a shot when the target springs into view. It’s only a matter of time…

UPDATE, BY REQUEST: Coming to you live from Apostrophe Garden in wintery Melbourne, Australia, it’s all the hot grass-growing action you handle, and it's all right here on The Path. So sit back and stay tuned because this could get out of controoooooool.

Don’t mention the ‘soccer’.

I mentioned it once, but I think I got away with it.

So now that all this World Cup hubbub has died down, perhaps I can ask the question: if ‘soccer’ is such a dirty word, how come the players of our national team (surely the ultimate of football fans?) are happy to be called the ‘Socceroos’? Why aren’t they in open revolt, pushing for a name change to the ‘Footballroos’? Or even, as a nod to their Australian heritage, the ‘Foodyroos’? If ‘soccer’ is good enough for our noble band of heroic footballing heroes, well then it’s good enough for me as well.

And speaking of good enough for me, where have those 2006 World Cup Australian Away jerseys been all my life?! Finally, a colour palette to be proud of, and a uniform that doesn’t make us look like an (admittedly athletic) team of Wiggles (but a team of Wiggles nonetheless). The Brazilians must have been pissed they didn’t get to play Away. Summer fun beach-wear for you again, boys, I'm afraid. Australian Green and Gold was, is, and shall forevermore be, awful, and I for one would like to see more of this dignified type of strip for all our god-like sporting heroes, doing us proud as they battle bravely for Australian glory, exactly like the diggers on the beaches at Gallipoli back in 1915. I don't know who's in charge of all that, but, you know, see what you can do? Thanks, I knew you could.

Warning: giant turkey.

“If there’s ever a delay, we’ll txt you straight away. SMS Updates gives you FREE up-to-the-moment information about any delays to your train service.”

Sounds pretty good, doesn’t it? Pretty handy service. So why, despite my train home being delayed almost every single night, have I not been contacted once? Why has my experience not lived up to the promise?

Oh wait, there’s fine print: “SMS messages sent by Connex are for all train cancellations and delays over 15 minutes”.

Sorry? Over 15 minutes? Look, I’m no stranger to weaselly fine print, but let’s look at their bold print statements again: “If there’s ever a delay, we’ll txt you straight away. SMS Updates gives you FREE up-to-the-moment information about any delays to your train service.” I don't see a single second of wiggle room in that statement. It sounds to me like a service that could tell you to keep running because your train’s been delayed by 3 minutes and you can still make it! But no. Fifteen minutes is the best (or worst) you can hope for, and you’ll just have to discover any old trifley 14 minute delays for yourself.

So, the fine print doesn’t clarify the statement, it completely alters it. “If there’s an extended delay, we’ll contact you pretty much straight away,” is not as snappy, but would be closer to the reality. The use of absolute terms like ‘ever’ and ‘any’ seems self-defeating; if you create unrealistic expectations for your new service, don’t be surprised if people think it sucks. As I say, my experience has not lived up to the promise, and as delays longer than 15 minutes are in my experience thankfully rare, this new ‘service’ seems all but irrelevant.

So it’s no help with workaday delays, but what about cancellations? Well last week I got this message at 6:26 am: “Post, the 7:36 am Reservoir train to Flinders Street has been cancelled. Connex apologises for any inconvenience,” which was followed by this one an hour later: “Post, the 7:36 am Reservoir train to Flinders Street will now run. Connex apologises for any inconvenience.” So I’m not exactly filled with confidence.

Then yesterday at 5:33pm I received this message from Connex: “Post, due to a fault, buses have replaced trains Flinders St – Clifton Hill. Please go to Flinders St. We apologise for the inconvenience. Call 131638.” There was an incident like this a while back and I got all the way to my platform before discovering I needed to head for Flinders, so I was pretty impressed by this message. Until I discovered The Age website had posted a detailed article on the situation a full 16 minutes before Connex managed to send me a text message. Rapid response, Connex. Really “up-to-the-moment”. Did you learn of the situation from The Age’s website too? Or CNN, perhaps? Then, 13 minutes later, a second SMS informed me “The fault has now been rectified and services are resuming to normal”. Wow! Resolved in 13 minutes? They might be slow to start, but they finish like lightning!

The icing though was the apology in the same message. It was as though they’d read my earlier post and knew they needed to alter the script and pull out something special. And they did:


Not one, but two apologies. It's a double-scoop of sincerity. That’s making an effort. Thanks Connex. You're the best. Apology accepted.

Please Kelloggs, I want some more.

Speaking of the need for this blog to tackle the Big issues, have you seen the ‘serving suggestion’ on a box of Special K? I have. (For some reason).


Thirteen flakes (give or take) and a thimble-full of milk! And you'll like it! No whinging. I don’t know if a spoon’s worth of Special K for breakfast will “keep you looking and feeling good”, but it’ll certainly keep you skinny.

Technology boom.

Oh, and if you've ever wanted to blow up a Mac, live vicariously...

Winter blossoms.

Well, at three months, Winter continues to fly past her developmental milestones. She’s smiling, she’s jamming her hands into her mouth (which is apparently how we learn that those things that keep moving around in front of us actually belong to us), she’s hitting things that dangle in front of her (in an inquisitive, not violent, manner), and she’s even started rolling! My only area of concern is that while she favours her left hand for hitting, she’s favouring the right hand for sucking, and so it’s unclear which hand is dominant and whether she’ll be left or right handed. Lefties do make an impact, and right-handers do suck, so it could still go either way… No, it’s not a competition, but… LEFT, LEFT, LEFT, COME ON! :-)

Parlez vous Wanklais?

Hilary Harper, la journaliste de circulation par excellence, detait assez gentil pour m'avertir d'un "contretemps" sur la grande route d'Monash un matin recemment. Merci Hilary!

Sure as you can’t steer a train, you can’t change your fate.

I noticed the train driver this morning was talking on his mobile phone as he drew into the station. With my current level of animosity towards Connex and the Department of Infrastructure, I wanted to go up and slap on his window, or issue a Citizen’s Fine, or something. But my desire to secure a seat for the journey won out, and I shuffled on with the rest of the sardines, and put my life in the hands of a distracted driver. I wonder if he texts as well? Tell my wife I love her…

UPDATE 1: You won't believe it, but then my tram driver last night was yapping on his phone as well! It's an epidemic. Save yourselves!

UPDATE 2: This is quite freaky. It gets worse! I caught a bus today and the driver was driving with a cup of coffee in his hand! Three days, three forms of transport, three drivers with other things on their minds. Reminds me of the time an old girlfriend was speeding in her manual car through peak-hour traffic whilst smoking and talking on her mobile at the same time. That was a fun ride. Maybe it's me?

My Top 5 Most Devalued Words/Phrases in the English Language.

5. SALE
Seems like everyone’s having a SALE these days. All day, every day. You don’t need a reason, you just need a sign. We're overstocked with ‘em and they’ve all got to go! Used to be when SALE appeared out the front of a shop, it meant you’d find things inside ‘on sale’, that is, at a reduced price. Today it’s more an indication that things inside are merely ‘for sale’. Business as usual. Sure, there might be three, possibly four, items marked down, but they’re usually ones you wouldn’t normally buy if they were free. They lure you in with an empty promise, then sit back hoping the full-price shiny things will work their magic. And I guess they do because that swarm of signs ain't going away.

4. EXCLUSIVE
Seems like everything’s an ‘Exclusive’ these days. Or 'EXCLUSIVE', rather. Every news report, every article, every interview… they’re all Exclusives. Although other networks, papers and magazines seem to end up with what they want eventually anyway, and usually on the same day, so I don’t really see what’s so exclusive and why it’s so significant? I couldn’t care less if someone gets somesuch a little later than someone else, or if there are two watermarks instead of one. And when you see what they're proudly proclaiming as an EXCLUSIVE, you wonder why they bother. What? An EXCLUSIVE interview with Geri “Ginger Spice” Halliwell on Channel 9? I bet the other networks are whipping themselves stupid over letting that one get away! And it’s funny how often the competing current affairs programs both end up with their own EXCLUSIVE on the same story…

3. AWESOME
Seems like everything’s ‘Awesome’ these days. Nothing is too small or too trivial to be described as such. The other day I heard someone describe their chewing gum as awesome. Last year I gave someone a blank sheet of A4 paper and they said that was awesome. 'Awesome' means 'inspiring awe'. Does your gum really inspire awe? If you mean 'really good' find a word that means 'really good' and keep your hyperbole to yourself. A.Word.A.Day, the awesome email newsletter I subscribe to, is occasionally sponsored by ‘Crazy Aaron’s Thinking Putty’ which their ad proclaims as ‘an awesome stress reliever’. (Or an ‘awesome stocking stuffer’ around Christmas). I wrote to AWAD to tell them I felt this ad was a disservice to the word. “God, for example, is awesome,” I wrote, “a sunrise over the Himalayas is awesome, ‘Crazy Aaron’s Thinking Putty’ is unlikely to be awesome.” I received no reply. :-)

2. LITERALLY
Seems literally everything is literal these days. ‘Literally’ used to indicate you were using a familiar, metaphorical figure of speech in a literal way, as in, “Kate literally threw the baby out with the bathwater” or “It’s literally on the tip of my tongue” when trying to recall the name of the lolly you’re sucking. Now it’s more frequently used to indicate something is meant in its strongest possible sense. A number of examples from my collection of misuses include:

• “The new single from Suede has literally just walked in the door.” –Caroline Tran, Triple J DJ
• “She’s literally a chain smoker.” –Student
• “There are literally only a handful of troops here in Baghdad."
–Television Reporter
• “Cars that smoke really get up my nose… literally.” –EPA radio ad
• "Australians are literally becoming allergic to living."
–A Current Affair reporter

The more people use the word in this way, the more it weakens its very specific, very useful and indeed, very pleasing sense of a common phrase being meant in a literal way, and I think this is a shame.

1. CONNEX APOLOGISES FOR ANY INCONVENIENCE CAUSED
Seems like Connex is apologising a lot these days. My train home is late nearly every single night and Connex dutifully apologises for most of them with the same push-button recording. I now know every word, every pause, every subtle shift in intonation and, you know, the apology’s really starting to lose its sincerity. It’s like they’re saying it because they feel they have to, not because they actually mean it. Shocking, I know; I feel like I’ve lost my innocence. Train after train, night after night. I now get more annoyed at hearing the same hollow recording for the millionth time than I do about my train being late. Is it too much to ask for even one alternate recording? Just to keep things fresh? Just so it doesn’t seem quite so forced?

Well, that was most cathartic. Thanks for stopping by, and I apologise for any inconvenience caused.

The Aras End of the World.

(Here be Survivor: Exile Island spoilers.)

Glory be. Some guy called Arse just won the current series of Survivor! Well, it’s spelt ‘Aras’ but everyone was clearly pronouncing it ‘arse’. Or maybe he was just really unpopular and they actually were calling him ‘arse’? I don’t know, I’ve never watched Survivor. Kate happened to have it on and she pointed out his unfortunate name as I was passing by. If I’d known this earlier I would have had money on him to win. Anyone who’s gone through school with a name like ‘Aras’ is clearly a survivor. I guess he’s lucky he’s American where I gather most people would draw a distinction between ‘ass’ and ‘Aras’. Either way, I’m adding his name to my list of names to never call my children. Yes, I have a list. I also have a list of surnames I’d be uncertain of keeping if I happened to be born with one of them.

My Top 5 Surnames You'd Better Have A Good Reason For Keeping (work-in-progress)
5. Tinkler
4. Roughead
3. Hercock
2. Cobbledick
1. Manlove

I just read a book by Colin Manlove. Imagine being Aras Manlove. Hmm, no thanks.

Rocturnal.

This morning I woke up with Wolfmother’s ‘Woman’ blaring at full speed (and full volume) in my head. I became conscious and was instantly aware of the main riff hurtling around my skull with its size 12 boots on. I wonder if it had been on loop in my subconscious the whole night, or whether it simply started up again when I woke, as though I’d just taken the song off pause? I wonder what goes on in my brain when I’m not there?

(Rereads post. Hmm. Wolfmother’s 'Woman'? I’m glad a lot of Freud’s theories have been discredited because he’d no doubt have had a field day with the supposed significance of this one.) :-)

Predicting good things.

A couple of observations about Predictive Text on mobile phones.

As a lover of books and of home, I am pleased to see that ‘book’ is followed by ‘cool’ and that ‘home’ is followed by ‘good’.

As a father, I am pleased that ‘dad’ comes before ‘fad’, but am surprised to find that 686 defaults to ‘nun’, not ‘mum’. The order of words is not determined alphabetically, so maybe the phonemakers have research that shows people will be more likely to text about nuns than mums?

Anyone got any observations of their own?

UPDATE
The thought just occurred that maybe mum's deference to nun was a trans-Atlantic/Pacific-type thing, and that maybe Nokia, etc, use US English, but when I entered 'mom' I was given a firm 'non'! Well, merci Nokia. Now I’m confused again.

UPDATE 2
Ducking funny video here on the History of Predictive Text Swearing.

Credit where credits are due.

(Here be Six Feet Under spoilers.)

I cannot count the times I sat exhausted, reeling in response to another high-intensity episode of the brilliant Six Feet Under, when Pete "Copperart" Smith (Network 9’s ubiquitous voiceover man), would bust in, trample the closing theme and vomit all over me with his pointless promo for some upcoming piece of nothing.

I know they need to advertise, but it always seemed so inappropriate, especially with a show like SFU. Instead of being a quiet moment of music and introspection that allowed you to disengage and start to process, it became a desperate scramble for the remote so you could hit Mute before Pete would hove into view and kill the moment.

One of the best things about watching SFU via… other means than network TV, besides being able to set your own agenda, was the freedom from Pete and his inane blather. So it was with great pleasure (although great sympathy as well) that I read the following letter in this week’s Green Guide.

If I hadn’t heard it I wouldn’t have believed it. Seven seconds into the closing credits of Monday night’s Six Feet Under, just after Nate had died, a Channel Nine voice-over said “We hope you enjoyed Six Feet Under. Tonight 10:30, we’ll have you laughing with brand new Comedy Inc, the series where no-one is safe and nothing is sacred, taking aim at the living and the dead.” Unbelievable.
Chris Page, East Malvern.

Sadly, Chris; it’s not unbelievable at all. Seems like a fitting epitaph for Six Feet’s run on network TV.

A date with the Devil.

Argh! Argh! It’s 06.06.06! That’s three zeros in a row which is the number you dial in an emergency! And oh my gosh, it’s also three sixes in a row! Awooga, awooga! Abandon ship! Nail bits of crooked wood over the windows! Don’t eat the salmon mousse! I just saw a cat and a dog out the window sitting on a couch smoking a pipe together! The end times are upon us...

Or not? Who’s to say if Satan operates by our Gregorian calendar? Maybe he’s still using the Julian one, or has progressed to the Holocene calendar, or he’s possibly even developed his own demonic version?! Our 06.06.06 might be a public holiday on his Demonorian calender and he’s actually taken the day off?

Whatever the case, I’m just glad I’ve got Jesus watching my back. See you tomorrow.

UPDATE: Well, we survived. Thank Heavens. I think the greatest danger (besides the normal one of having YOUR FACE EATEN OFF) came from the swarm of press releases swooping through the air like a murder of crows. Seems like every man and his Cerberus was releasing some hell-related product yesterday. Nothing like a good gimmick, I guess?

Where'd they steal this idea from?

Back in 1992 a news clipping from The Age newspaper was distributed amongst the Year 12 students at my high school. The controversial article outlined a drastic new plan whereby the government would imprison students who were found to be cheating on their Common Assessment Tasks. This controversial move was in response to a report that uncovered high levels of cheating throughout the VCE program, including instances of students paying other students to complete their assignments for them.

The article sent the student body into fits. Ever-vigilant Student Council members protested in the strongest of terms to anyone who'd listen, labelling the idea draconian, unconstitutional and absolutely preposterous. And of course it would have been; if it were true.

Turns out a mischievous student (who shall remain nameless but who made a pretty penny completing others students’ assignments), had so much free time on his hands that he fabricated the article himself for a bit of a laugh. I don't think even he expected it to be swallowed as quickly and as easily as it was.

The incident was just brought back to mind when I came across this familiar-sounding story from the BBC Online. It appears that the West African Examinations Council is threatening school pupils in Liberia with possible prison sentences if they cheat in their exams! Ma… I mean, the unnamed student was 14 years ahead of his time!

Somehow I ended up with the original article stuck to my bedroom wall, but I’m not sure where it is anymore. Might have got lost during a move, or it might be sitting in some box somewhere, just waiting to come out into the light once again. We’ll just have to wait and see.

A rock star and a hard place.

If over the next few months I happen to kick down your door and strut in screaming, “Hellomelbourneareyoureadytoroooooooock?!” please forgive me, nod politely and go about your business. I’ve just started using ‘Instant Rockstar’ hair product, you see, and I’m not sure how literal its claim will turn out to be.

Instant Rockstar? How desperately lame. It took me some time to muster enough courage to overcome my embarrassment and take it to the counter. It was like I was sixteen again, trying to rent an R-rated movie from the video store. The helpful woman at the Hairhouse Warehouse, however, assured me it would do exactly what I wanted my hair product to do, so what’s a 31 year old, decidedly un-rockstar personality to do?

As an aside, apparently Bart went to school with the brains behind Instant Rockstar! He was the slack-arse who no-one thought would amount to anything, but I guess he's proved 'em wrong. Although, Instant Rockstar? Maybe not. It's certainly not a name I would have chosen if I’d been involved, but if it’s shifting units and working out, good luck to him, I guess. I’m yet to be convinced the product's better than its ridiculous name, but we’ll just have to see.

People for the Ethical Treatment of Children.

I'm sure there are only too many demented half-wits out there, muttering to themselves as they rock back and forth in their straight-jackets, who, assuming you could get close enough to ask, would reply that, yes, they do indeed find the pictures below to be infinitely cute and delightfully adorable.





Not that you'd be likely to understand their answer, punctuated as it no doubt would be with fits of insane cackling and liberally smothered in streams of drool. I, on the other hand, find these images to be terrifying and deeply unsettling. Filled with menace and a definite sense of impending ultra-violence. I’m sure this poor child has a date with a tumble-drier somewhere not too far in its future.

Thanks CK for sending me the images. I’ve forwarded them on to the appropriate authorities.

Wintertime.

Now if you don't think this baby is the cutest baby ever, I will fight you. That's no lie. :-)

Priorities.

Just finished watching the interview with Tasmanian miners Todd Russell and Brant Webb. Best part was Todd's revelation that once he was out of the mine: 'Family comes first, roo shootin' comes second'. Gold. Where can I get the t-shirt?

Spooked.

(Here be Spooks spoilers). Allow me to set the scene.

London. Present day. MI5 are attempting to infiltrate a mosque where they believe acts of terrorism are being planned. They are eventually able to get an agent inside, who informs them that a young boy is being prepared to martyr himself. When the day of action arrives, the boy is readied in a warehouse before heading to the strike zone. MI5 learns of the boy’s location and agents race to stop him. The boy flees the warehouse and into the busy playground of a neighbouring kindergarten where he prepares to detonate his explosives.


In the nick of a time, an agent disturbs him and the boy flees through a fence to an empty basketball court where he is surrounded. Two agents approach and attempt to talk him down.


But negotiations fail, and he triggers his vest.


As body parts and other debris fly through the air, a blue banner zips suddenly onto screen!


As agents rush desperately towards their fallen friends, we’re delightfully informed that ‘3 Non-Blondes’ is up next!



Well, wacky do. I’ll be sure to stay tuned. Thanks for letting me know. I thought the Mother of All Watermarks was irritating, but this takes things to a whole new level. Spooks is often intense, and as the events of this episode reach their tragic climax - a split second after a young boy has killed himself and murdered an innocent man - the network saunters in and urinates over everyone. Way to go. Good work everyone.

Three-piece suits and plates on boots.

Chuck D, (rhyme animal, prophet of rage, middle-class rap superstar, personal teenage role-model and way better half of seminal hip-hop outfit Public Enemy) once observed that, “These days you can’t see who’s in cahoots, ‘cause now the KKK wears three-piece suits. It’s like that y’all, it’s like that y’all, in fact you know it’s like that y’all.” (That last sentence wasn’t really relevant, but once you’re on Chuck’s rhyme-train, it’s hard to get off.) He definitely had a point, but I believe times have changed, and that there’s mounting evidence to show the Klan aren’t keeping as low-profile as they once were. Just have a look at this car if you think I’m wrong.


Mere chance? I think not. Do you think anyone but a Grand Dragon of the KKK would be happy driving around with that number plate? And on a white car too! Now they’re just getting cocky! How long till they get the pointy, white dunce hoods back on and out into the street? I’m not sure what the ‘121’ part of the plate is meant to mean, but it’s bound to be sinister. Maybe it’s some sort of provocative ‘one-to-one’, mano-a-mano, glove-slapping throwdown to any non-whites passing on by? Chuck, I think we need you and your shovel back bringin’ tha noize now more than ever, you know what I’m sayin'?