Sunday, 16 September 2012

Taking it all too seriously

Sarcasm develops between the ages of 6 and 10, apparently. This might explain why I believed the following were totally serious as a child, until I grew up and realised that their creators' tongues were firmly in their cheeks.

Batman

I believed this to be a thrilling series showing Batman saving Gotham from a terrifying array of master criminals. The Joker, with his use of colourful gas to render his victims unconscious, was a particularly dangerous foe. And the cliffhangers!

Actually it is camper than than a row of pink tents at Christmas.


Who Put The Bomp (In The Bomp, Bomp, Bomp) by Barry Mann

"What a beautiful love song!" I thought.

Perhaps if I'd seen the title written down, I might have guessed something was afoot. The line "I mean it from the bottom of my boogity boogity boogity shoo" is also a dead give away that this song is totally taking the piss.


The Man From U.N.C.L.E

Master spies fighting the deadly forces of T.H.R.U.S.H, or so I thought. The spoofery passed my by.

There are a surprising number of Illya Kuryakin fan videos out there. Lots of people must share my (and Sally Draper's) views on the man.


And quite a few want Napoleon and Illya to get it on.


What sarcasm did you miss as a child?


Wednesday, 6 June 2012

80s pop is magical

Here are four songs from the eighties about fantasy lands full of candy kisses, magic mirrors, and trees by rivers next to holes. Have I missed any?

NiKershaw - The Riddle




Buck's Fizz - The Land of Make Believe



Madonna - Dear Jessie

Oh yeah, she's totally an "artist" that changed the face of popular culture. 


Limahl - The Neverending Story



Sunday, 26 February 2012

The Genetics of Hanna-Barbera

When I was studying genetics at university, I found Mendelian inheritance incredibly satisfying. It logically and neatly explains how simple characteristics are passed on from one generation to the next. Gregor Mendel was the clever clogs who discovered how genes work in the 1860s (long before anyone knew about DNA) by studying his pea plants. He was the first to realise that some characteristics are “dominant” and some are “recessive”.

Whilst peas are awesome (popped straight from the pod they are a healthy taste sensation), I am more interested in human genes – so much so that when watching TV or films I often start to think about the genotypes of the characters. Sometimes this can make me really angry (the mutant gene in the X Men movies doesn’t make any sense!) but sometimes it can be (for want of a better word) “fun”.

For example, Hanna-Barbera got it right when they made the Flintstones (apart from having dinosaurs and humans co-existing of course, but we’ll just gloss over that for now). With the Flintstones you have a lovely little family pedigree for the red hair gene, which just happens to be my favourite Mendelian trait (what’s yours?). I am a card-carrying member of the SPF 50 Club myself, y’see. Strawberry blond and proud.

Red hair is recessive, meaning that you need to inherit two copies of the gene to have it – one from each parent. It’s caused by the melanocortin 1 receptor (MC1-R) gene, which usually makes cells produce the black pigment eumelanin. Redheads have two broken versions of this gene so instead make the red pigment pheomelanin.

If you inherit one normal copy of the gene and one red version, you will have black, brown or blond hair. You will be a “carrier”, though, and could have a ginger child (you have been warned). As the first redhead in my family, I am the product of two such carriers.


Wilma Flintstone’s elegant ginger up-do shows that she has two copies of the red-headed gene. We can be confident that this is her natural colour because although she has lots of animals around the house to act as dryers, combs and curling tongs, it would be pushing the bounds of Stone Age technology to produce permanent colourants which leave your hair that manageable.


Fred has a handsome crop of black hair, so he either has two normal copies or is a carrier. Up until the end of season 3, it was impossible to know his genetic status. But when lovely little Pebbles came along, her red hair revealed that Fred must be a carrier. Don’t you feel better now that you know? Oh how satisfying to be able to fill in their family tree with their genotypes!


It would be nice to do the same exercise for the Rubbles family, but since Bamm-Bamm was adopted, it’s just not possible. So let’s look at the Jetsons instead.

George and Jane Jetson (the Space Age couple with a supercool flying car) are both redheads so can only pass on red hair genes to their children. Therefore their kids should all be ginger.


Hang on a minute, Judy and Elroy are both blond! How can this be?

I have come up with a few explanations:


  1. The children are not George’s. I don’t like to think of Jane cheating, but she has a lot of time on her hands, what with being a housewife in an era when all the cleaning is done by robots.
  2. Hair dye is involved. I’d say that the most likely culprit would be Jane (again, she has a lot of time to visit the salon), but Judy’s platinum ponytail looks quite suspicious. We can’t rule anyone out – in the future, social norms may have changed so much that a straight guy like George or a boy as young as Elroy might opt for a few flattering highlights. 
  3. Judy and Elroy are the product of genetic engineering and their parents ticked “blond” on the order forms. They were probably grown in some sort of stylish womb-pod.

It’s disappointing that the Jetsons don’t follow the pattern, but perhaps the genetics of hair colour wasn’t a primary consideration for William Hanna and Joseph Barbera when they created their characters – just look at Huckleberry Hound’s blue coat or Snagglepuss’s pink fur. Neither of these colours is seen in nature.

I would repeat this exercise looking at eye colour, but they all just have black dots.

Tuesday, 14 February 2012

Entomological humour from Smith and Jones

My most favourite sketch show when I was little was Alas Smith and Jones. No-one seems to rate it much, probably because it has been overshadowed by its predecessor Not The Nine O'Clock News (which is also great apart, from Pamela Stephenson, who was JUST NOT FUNNY and tried to sexually assault Nick from Anne and Nick live on TV, which just isn't on).  There are some episodes on YouTube, but my favourite two sketches aren't on there so I've rectified the situation.

The first concerns praying mantises. I volunteer at the Natural History Museum and I think about it whenever I'm working in the creepy crawlies gallery. There aren't many sketches about the mating behaviour of insects.


The second sees Flagor the Barbarian interrupting a dinner party:

Sunday, 12 February 2012

Fact of the day from Michael Caine

One of my favourite charity shop finds is Not Many People Know This Is 1988: Michael Caine's File of Facts. Perhaps many people do know that Michael had a sideline in trivia books in the 80s, but I didn't until I happened upon this book. In 1988 I did know it was 1988, though.


Inside there is an interesting fact for every day of 1988. As he explains in the introduction "Nuggets of odd information like this are a great way of brightening up an ordinary day - and they're useful too. When I was just a Cockney kid going to school in Peckham I was known as the Professor because I spent so much time reading. That could have been a problem, but because I always had a collection of strange facts I earned my place in the local gang."

If you want to impress a hoodie standing on a street corner in South London, why not wow them with today's fact?

Friday 12 February 1988 
Tom Keating, the man who threw the art world into chaos when it was revealed that he had produced more than 2,000 fakes which had been snapped up by dealers and experts, died four years ago today [so 28 years ago today by my reckoning].
Ironically, shortly before his death he recorded a series of TV programmes showing how to imitate the styles and techniques of famous painters [don't think Michael understands the concept of irony].
And did you know that...During their lifetime most people eat food equivalent to the weight of six elephants?

Saturday, 11 February 2012

From the vaults - 80s children's telly

My family's VHS collection is truly vast. This week I've been pulling out some gems that are missing from YouTube.

I have a few videos of children's TV from the late 80s that I have lovingly kept. It's mostly Postman Pat, Gummi Bears and SuperTed (the only Welsh superhero?), but the most important relic has always been the last episode of The Mysterious Cities of Gold. My recording of the finale includes an intro and outro from a very young Phillip Schofield (I still love you, Phil!) and the wonderful Gordon the Gopher:


The importance of this recording has somewhat diminished since the whole series came out on DVD, but for years this was the only way I could see any of this amazing cartoon. This series made me want to be an archaeologist when I was five (I went off the idea when I realised you had to spend quite a lot of time digging outside - I think I actually wanted to be an archaeologist in the Twenties in Egypt when a lady archaeologist would supervise digs from under the comfort of a parasol, and Poirot would visit and solve some murders). Cities of Gold left me with a deep fascination with ancient South America.

This video tape also had some amazingly Eighties bits and pieces. Check out this advert for a music show The Roxy, followed by the opening to the wonderful Get Fresh! Unfortunately, I don't have any of Gilbert the Alien on tape. He was voiced by Phil Cornwell of Stella Street fame.


And this clip from something called It's Wicked! The opening titles are pretty snazzy for a show that's basically about steam trains. The female presenter's hair. THE FEMALE PRESENTER'S HAIR. She's like Jem come to life.

Sunday, 15 January 2012

Could I marry Cliff Richard?

One of the many treats in my Radio Luxembourg Book of Record Stars from 1962 is this article from Cliff written on the set of Summer Holiday – “The girl that I marry” – in which he describes the lady who will sweep the Bachelor Boy off his feet. Fifty years later, said girl has still not been found.

Maybe it’s because he hasn’t met me yet! 



The smart Alecs can make all the cracks they like, but the girl for me would be just the sort my mother has said all along would be the right sort.  

So let’s see if I meet Mr Richard’s (and his mum’s) criteria for the perfect woman.

1. Looks

I’m not saying that prettiness doesn’t count, but I took a research poll among teen-age boys. Forty-five per cent of them rated a physically attractive, good-looking girl as   very desirable. At the same time, forty-nine per cent also said that prettiness is only  somewhat desirable in the girl they hope to marry. 
Me, I’m in the  only somewhat desirable category, because I never forget the saying –  All that glitters is not gold...

This bodes well. Firstly, while on a good day and in good light I’m ok, if appearance were his main concern he might look elsewhere. Secondly, I think surveying your friends shows an inquiring mind and a scientific bent, which are very attractive traits for a potential husband.  

So far so good.

2. Style

Girls who wear excessive make-up, too-short shorts, or too revealing fashions get critically slammed by boys who don’t mind looking at such girls, but wouldn’t dream of marrying one of them.  

You can’t say that Cliff doesn’t understand the male psyche. Brother speaks the truth!

These criticisms take in over-bleached hair, ridiculous hair styles, mile-long fingernails, and too much theatrical eye shadow.

Hmmm. I wouldn’t call my eye shadow “theatrical”, so that’s ok, and my hair is its natural colour. But I do like a short skirt (my legs are my best feature). Maybe if I try to just cover up a bit more? Easily fixed.


3. Behaviour

For someone in my line of business, it would be important to have a wife who is a good mixer socially.

Another point to me! Yes, I am chatty and like meeting new people. I’d surely get on with all his celebrity friends.

I can’t stand girls who smoke too much, drink too much, and use bad language. Too often a girl is smart intellectually, and yet stupid socially.

I don’t smoke, so that’s good, and only really swear when quoting Tarantino films. But I do like a tipple on occasion. How much is too much, Cliff? Do you follow the Government’s recommendation of 14 units a week?

I can’t stand a girl who looks and acts too loud in public.

Oh dear. Oh deary, deary dear. I don’t think this is going to work out. I am nothing if not loud in public – bright colours and lots of noise. Is it a deal breaker?

4. Skills

I want a wife who knows how to cook and keep house, more than just a popularity queen. Any boy who says domestication is of no importance wants his brains tested.

Back on track. I’m sure Cliff would love my cooking. And I technically know how to keep house, I just don’t do it very much. Tick! Tick!

5. Career 

A career-type of wife wouldn’t interest me in the least. The girl I marry must want a normal family life with children.

Fallen at the final hurdle! I would be a career-type of wife. My job gives me self-esteem, social interaction and my own money. Don’t you understand that? Why do you want to keep me in a gilded cage? Why? Why?

Conclusion

So maybe I won’t be Mrs Cliff Richard. How about you? Do you have subdued make up and no personal goals? If so, look him up. I think he lives in Portugal with a friend.