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Just caught the last five or ten minutes of this. Fascinating! Neil deGrasse Tyson might be described as an heir to Carl Sagan, inasmuch as he’s a populariser of science, and a New Yoiker.

I’ll definitely be checking out the full interview at some point.

Several things stuck me, about Tyson (or should that be deGrasse Tyson?)*. First off I’m on his ‘team’, so to speak. His bit about open-mindedness reminded me of Dawkins’ thing about being so open-minded your brain falls out!

Returning momentarily to the Sagan allusion I made above, another thing about the astrophysicist that was less appealing than his very reasonable eloquence and knowledge was his rather booming slightly overbearing style.

Folk like Sagan, and in other areas of science, Attenborough, even Richard Dawkins, are (if you actually watch them in public discussion, as opposed to basing your views on the hearsay of their ‘adversaries’) pretty scrupulous in their attempts to be calmly and politely evenhanded, or reasonable. Neil deG&T, on the other hand, exhibited moments of what looked to me worryingly like controlling bluster in his responses to some of Stephen Sackur’s questions.

* Americans are big on middle names. Very notably so in public and intellectual life (one of the themes of this interview concerns the state of the latter in the modern US). But, although I’ve not seen it hyphenated, deGrasse Tyson sounds like a double-barrelled surname.

Painting is proceeding apace. I’m kind of hoping I’ll get the bulk of it done today. This is proving to be a fun little project.

Today I got the wheels on, and did the rest of what I wanted to do to the body, inc the steering wheel. I could keep going. But the point of this little project is simple child like fun/creativity. Not perfectionism!

I’m happy with this little project. It was actually instigated by Teresa. Lor’ bless ‘er! She suggested a ‘copper wire sculpture’. But instead I did this.

Next step is to undercoat the model. And after that, paint her. British racing green, methinks. Again, I’ve considered snazzy paint ideas. But I’m going to stick with keeping things simple.

I took it to the shed and then actually sprayed the undercoat outdoors. Under supervision from Teresa! To make sure I wear a mask, and look after myself. And the spray does give a lot of airborne materials.

The next step, painting… I’ll get around to that when I feel ready!

Confined to my sofa-bed, in our lounge, and suffering from unspeakable insomnia, I decided to make a cardboard sports car!

Rather than making a real/specific car, I’m just making a generic hybrid. Tonight, in part one, I’ve made wheels and the basic body. Tomorrow (actually later today; It’s 1 am!) I’ll continue with the body work, and fabricate some sort of axles/chassis, lights, etc.

It’s like being a child again! (Building the cardboard car, that is, as opposed to the grindingly oppressive sleeplessness.) I remember watching my dad make a cardboard cut out roadster, as a nipper. Or did we work on it together? I no longer recall, alas.

Earlier we watched another Rathbone Holmes movie, and enjoyed a tasty porky stroganoff that Teresa cooked. staying home and taking it super easy. Hoping to shake this awful persistent chesty cough and whatnot.

I got this boxed set for Teresa, for Yuletide.

We once had all the movies from the set as digital files, thanks to a chum. But we never really watched them. Having the physical DVDs – I guess we’re old school that way? – means we’re much more likely to actually watch them (they’re not included on Amazon Prime).

It’s Xmas day, and, having watched a Basil Rathbone Sherlock movie earlier (The Pooch o’ the Baskervilles), part of another DVD set I got for Teresa, we’re now watching She,

Shot in Israel and starring Arsula Undress, this is, it seems, where Rumpole got his ‘she who must be obeyed’ line from. Well I never! And you get of only Peter Cushing, Christopher Lee, and the many faceted charms of Ursula, but also Wombles narrator Bernard Cribbin.

Too much! An embarrassment of riches. Some of the sets or are they ‘mattes’?) are great, as well.

Can’t be arsed to synopsise the ludicrous story. It’s just an excuse for exotic locations, good old fashioned Boys’ Own style adventure, with nutty costumes and plenty of feminine allure, all in a distinctly old school non-PC way. We love it!

As Miranda – or is it her mum? – is fond of saying, Such fun!

I ought to lighten up on this topic, no doubt, but… I Amat’s find the Christian connotations of how we celebrate Xmas, in current UK/‘Western’ culture, an issue.

No doubt at some point in this post I’ll return to this theme. But for the most part this post is simply a record of the pleasurable aspects of our Yuletide celebrations.

I worried about being Scroogey, inasmuch as I only texted and didn’t call family, and a few friends, to wish them a Merry Whatever. Was this mean? I dint know! It wasn’t intended as such. I do love the private pleasure of Xmas Day itself being just Teresa and me, and our moggins, Chester.

We love to spoil Chester. And he got plenty of presents. Plus some Xmas fare, inc s but if the roast duck we had for lunch. He had some fun with the ‘unwrapping’. And played a fair bit with his ‘flippety fish’ toy.

As I have for most of the winter holidays, I’ve been sleeping alone in the downstsirs couch. on account of illness and insomnia. Not wishing to unduly disturb Teresa’s nights!

I even watched (ish!) a bit of typical YouTube stuff (drum stuff, snooker, this ‘n’ that), on Xmas day itself. But the main entertainment was a couple of movies: Basil Rathbone’s Pooch o’the Basketcases, and Hammer ‘sword n’ sandal type classic, She. What fun!

Due to my being under the weather zi was a lot less involved in Yuletide lunch than normal. My only contributions being peeking n’ chopping the spuds, and helping consume many hours work in just a few minutes. We had roast duck, with all the usual Christmassy accompaniments: roast taters, neeps, pinion; gravy, bread, horseradish, cranberry (etc.) sauces, Brussels, carrots, and so on. Even some chopped cooked chestnuts! Delish!

Present wise, we started unwrapping gifts fairly early, 10 or 11am -ish, perhaps? Teresa had loads of stuff. Me a little less! Several of my gifts were T-shirts or tops. Teresa got a couple of neck-warming scarves.

She also got two boxed sets of DVDs: the complete Basil of wwwRathbone Sherlock, and the 20+ disc (21?) Hammer film set. And we both got a few pampering style items: her, perfumes and unguents, me shampoo!

I got a few tops that help profess some of my musical passions. A bit juvenile, perhaps, for a man on the cusp of the ‘big five-oh’!? But what do I care!?

This may sound pretty lame/pathetic. But a highlight of the day, for me, was later in the evening, when Teresa and I dozed arm in arm on the sofa-bed. Just so cosy and peaceful!

A recent bout of insomnia found me watching the entirety of series one and two of Phoenix Nights. Having only seen snippets before, watching the whole thing proved to be great fun.

I won’t bother synopsising it all. Suffice to say Kay’s Potter character is a wheelchair bound club owner/manager, looking to run an family friendly old time variety type club, in Bolton. The comedy comes from the characters themselves, the awful acts, and the scrapes one and all get into, entertaining the public and battling Potter’s nemesis, rival nightclub owner, Den Perry (Ted Robbins).

I like this series for many reasons. Chiefly because it’s funny. But also because, as they say, it’s got heart. It’s also nice because it foregrounds a good few characters often glossed over in modern TV, such as the disabled, elderly, and other peripheral and/or ‘loser’ types. They, like all involved, are treated both savagely and even occasionally tenderly.

Pretty much all the acts are some shade of awful. From the racist folkies (‘send the buggers back!’), to the staff who come to the rescue in Talent Night, when dastardly Den Perry sabotages proceedings. And every episode ends with Potter and co auditioning cringe-worthy hopefuls.

A standout for unadulterated appallingness is Clinton Baptiste, the clairvoyant who ‘didn’t see that coming’. With his bleached mullet, camp accent – ‘y’alright!’ – and ability to misread everything and everyone to maximum offence effect, he’s really something.

I always love knob gags and farting. And whilst there’s a little of the latter, there’s not too much of the former. Except in the episode where they put in a ‘family friendly’ fundraiser, built around fun for kids and their parents. An unbelievable X-rated bouncy castle is the centrepiece. Whorra lorra laffs!

The cast is filled with characters we’ve all seen or encountered, simultaneously utterly ridiculous and yet tragically real. Bouncers Max and Paddy typify a very real breed. As does DJ/sparky, Ray Von, and MC/comedian/fall guy, Jerry St Clair (Dave Spikey), the latter one of the best developed characters after Potter himself.

It’s occasionally laugh out loud. Indeed, several segments had me guffawing uncontrollably. But for the most part it’s gently humorous. Many of the scenarios are just plain dumb. But there are also touching moments.

Rumours of specials a third series, and even a movie, are out there on the net. I believe a couple of one-offs might’ve come to pass? There was a single series spin-off; Max & Paddy’s something or other (a fugitive’s road trip, poss’?) But there’s not really enough. A real pity, as it was a good series. There ought to be much more of it!

It’s day four of doing, as far as poss’, absolutely nothing. It’s really quite hard. After the first day or two the psychological aspect starts to come to bear more forcefully.

Yesterday I tried reading our boiler manual, to both learn to operate it better, and deal with the potential onset of boredom. Such things are, in my experience, nine times out ten, appallingly written. Slogging through them isn’t conducive to peace of mind!

That was yesterday. Today, after sleeping a much better nights sleep than I’ve grown accustomed too of late, I’ve subsequently slept solidly through the morning, as well. Exhaustion is a commonplace for me. Partly a consequence of immune-system malfunction and the meds I take to combat that.

When I’m in more ‘normal’ mode, such daytime sleeping would wreck my night-time rhythms! But sometimes, like now, I can sleep almost round the clock, and still – at present at least – sleep at night.

Other stuff comes in and out of the overall picture, as well. Such as intense headaches. Are they migraines? I’m not sure. Possibly. For some reason my brain never retains certain info, no matter how many times it is inputted! I’ve looked up the definition of migraine many times!

I have co-codamol on hand for when these get really bad. Just took some now.

My snooker re-play orgy on YouTube continues. I find watching snooker much more effective than these dedicated sleep things you encounter, with wind and rain sounds, and suchlike (as nice as they may be). With snooker I can either enjoy focussing on it, or let it waft me into unconsciousness.

There’s a lot of near complete silence, the occasional clack of the balls and the ref’s numerical interjections. And, in the good old fashioned British snooker on TV tradition, the commentary is mostly very spare and subdued. Ted Lowe is my favourite, his gentle whispering is so soothing!