my life as a artist
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interesting things on the telly
Sunday 22nd April 2007 10:13 PM
I've just been watching this documentary about a doctor called Who, who (pause awhile and savour the sound of 'hoo-hoo') has the ability to travel through time. The tardis, a Time And Relative Dimension In Space machine, in the form of a police box, is how Who ( say 'how-hoo' out loud and allow the healing vibrations to resonate in your chest cavity) gets to where, and when.
Besides being able to travel through time and space, the tardis has other unusual dimensional qualities. My caravan looks quite roomy from the outside but on the inside it's quite roomy. The tardis isn't like that.
The documentary didn't make clear exactly who Who (without removing the perineum from the body, place it on a cushion and say 'hoo-hoo' one hundred times. During the last ten 'hoo-hoo's you should start to witness the web of the space-time continuum unravelling) was and if he was a real doctor.
There are many difficulties encountered in the multi-worlds of inter-dimensional travel, the most perennial and persistent being Daleks, malevolent giant tin pepper-pots from the Greek island of Skaros. Their insecurity, low self-esteem and lack of social skills gives them a tendency to say 'ex-ter-min-ate' and zap people with death-ray sink plungers.
Outside of ice-skating and watching 'Robot Wars' on the telly, Daleks find it hard to relax. With their lack of empathy and imagination, and encumbered by their unyielding metal bodies, Daleks rarely play charades. They're not like Lionel Blair.
Why Who (this is the one.. perineum..cushion.. cushion… .perineum… say 'wai-hoo' two hundred times. After one hundred times the web of the space-time continuum will have completely dissolved and you will be able to move freely through other dimensions. Tardis schmardis!I After two hundred you will be able to google existence.) bothers roaming the ineffable, infinite wastes of everything and nothingness beats me.
If I had a tardis I'd park it in London in 1966 and convert it into flats. I'd watch England play Germany then buy a cortina and go to a love-in. If there were any Daleks at the love-in I'd try and love them too, although I wouldn't have sex with them, unless we had really similar interests and looked good together.
I'd go and see one of my favourite bands in their early days, like the Who, who Who ( you can try this one, and see what it does for you, but it would be irresponsible of me to recommend it. My friend Gordon said it twenty times at a party in Fulford and turned into a squeezy bottle of Bramwells brown sauce.) has probably never even heard of… but I haven't got a tardis, and even though it was a documentary, you can't believe everything you see on telly… or read on the internet, for that matter… although I'd like to point out that nearly all that I've written is true, except, maybe, for the conditional sex with Daleks stuff … a spring day and a couple of pints…..
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Posted by ball valve , on Saturday 8th December 2007, 7:14 PM
I remember as a kid watching Doctor Who from behind the sofa. I missed every episode.
Posted by Les Miserable , on Wednesday 25th April 2007, 8:37 PM
Great Blog
My condolences to Gorden - it's a pity his bacon couldn't be saved - so delicious with a hangover and a splatt of the brown stuff.
Posted by Liam O'Grady , on Tuesday 24th April 2007, 1:14 PM
I haven't even read this yet (although i confess "sex with Daleks caught my eye) I'm just delighted its here and I can take home to enjoy over a nice cup of tea as an alternative window on reality (from lobbying for political attention to s
Posted by hippy in the Horn , on Monday 23rd April 2007, 6:20 PM
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