<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30831139</id><updated>2011-04-22T02:31:18.872Z</updated><title type='text'>Remote Vision</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://remotevision.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30831139/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://remotevision.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Terence</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14394053210334889811</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_g5oqfhP7Uj4/SWI5eUZlE9I/AAAAAAAAASU/h0v_L_ngTpU/S220/imdb.JPG'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>50</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30831139.post-8599436829289744651</id><published>2009-02-24T22:12:00.004Z</published><updated>2009-02-24T22:22:53.035Z</updated><title type='text'>Ice Ice Baby</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_g5oqfhP7Uj4/SaRynfJv3YI/AAAAAAAAAZk/_Piv4d7Xn3k/s1600-h/Siamese+Cat.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5306492283652136322" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 178px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_g5oqfhP7Uj4/SaRynfJv3YI/AAAAAAAAAZk/_Piv4d7Xn3k/s200/Siamese+Cat.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Dancing On Ice – Reviewed&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;ITV Sunday 22nd February 2009&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I try very hard not to pre-judge any TV shows I watch, and I had to try with added extra effort with Dancing On Ice. I had expected it to be camp, loud, and unashamed, and it was all of those, but why shouldn’t it be?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;I expected to find the sheer length of the show, split into two sections, too much, and a turn-off. The truth is that I loved it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Introduced by Phillip Schofield and Holly Willoughby, the show essentially takes over on ITV on Sunday evenings. I had heard of Ms Willoughby but, as they say, I had not seen her work, and who could ever find anything to dislike about Phillip Schofield? He manages the difficult task of coming across as a thoroughly good chap, without straying into the zone of blandness, so prevalent on early evening mainstream television.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In this review, I won’t go into detail about the background of all the contestants. That’s why the internet was invented, with its handmaidens, Google and Wikipedia. Neither will I stray into the world of terrible puns that leap out of the page at me, ‘skating on thin ice’ et al.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The show started on an odd note. For no discernible reason, other than to follow the format of old variety shows, we found ourselves watching Will Young, standing on a box, on the ice rink. Now, Will can really sing, and equally, can sustain a performance without the requirement of ‘added extras’.&lt;br /&gt;However, extras we got – in the form of Christopher Dean and Jayne Torvill, skating around poor Will as he tried to get his latest single across to us. It isn’t that Christopher and Jayne aren’t welcome to turn up with their ‘blades’ and their chemistry and all, it’s just that turning up at that moment was like… well it was like David Beckham taking a free kick to win us the World Cup, and looking up to see Darcey Bussell giving us her Sugar Plum Fairy in the penalty area. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The first two celebrity dancers were Zoe Salmon, and then, Melinda Messenger. Both did ok, but I would have been a bit lost without Tony Gubba’s summary of these ‘required elements’ that all the contenders had to include in their performance.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Next, we had the old tried and tested insert, when emotions are flagging. Donal MacIntyre was ‘presented’ with a tear inducing video message from his children. I think the last time I saw MacIntyre on television was when he was having his laptop nicked, from some inner city tower block, during one of those undercover shows he used to front. Because of the extremely skimpy nature of his dancing costume, we could see that Donal had nothing on him worth stealing this time.&lt;br /&gt;He was doing fine, then wobbled and didn’t quite recover, leading to lower scores from the judges.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ah yes – the judges! We have to employ judges. There is a rather complicated procedure to ensure that one dancing couple is dropped each week. Suffice to say that the judges’ marks account for fifty per cent of the total.&lt;br /&gt;There are five of ‘em, which is probably at least one, if not two, more than required, in terms of speaking parts. Of course, we need the ‘one the crowd have to boo’, and with Simon Cowell busy elsewhere, the mantle of boo-boy is worn by Jason Gardiner, who first came to our attention on the British version of Queer Eye for the Straight Guy.&lt;br /&gt;Gardiner laps up this role like a smooth and silky Siamese cat elegantly licking the last of the cream.&lt;br /&gt;Four of these five judges have some background in ice skating. The odd woman out, is West End and Broadway hoofer, Ruthie Henshall. We can say with some confidence, that Ruthie can sing, dance and act, but her qualifications to comment on, and judge, celebrity ice skaters are less obvious. Most of her remarks are set in a context of a lack of understanding, and a bluster that does not suit her personality. God Bless Ruthie and all that, but what she is doing here is a mystery, that could only possibly be unravelled by close questioning of the production team, and Ruthie’s agent.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was after Donal MacIntyre’s performance that I had an epiphany moment. I found myself pondering on the purpose of this show. Then I thought "What The Hell?" and gave in to the sheer joie de vivre of the whole thing, the humour, the campness and the fun of it all.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A likeable gal called Roxanne turned up next, and she had, apparently, tried a particular routine called (rather wonderfully) the ‘headbanger manoeuvre’ last week, and it hadn’t worked. I should stress that this is rather more meaningful than ‘not working’ as the manoeuvre involves the participant being hurled around by the ankles, some inches above the ice. I suspect it is not called the headbanger without due cause.&lt;br /&gt;Roxanne survived this routine, completing the scary whirling round by the ankles thing, and kept all her facial features intact for another week.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Next up was Jessica Taylor, from Liberty X, and wife of Kevin Pietersen, the England cricketer, who managed to be captain last year for about five minutes, and then wasn’t again.&lt;br /&gt;Jessica too had the emotional video message. Kevin Pietersen was in the West Indies and about to lose a test match, but didn’t know it at the time, as he relayed his best wishes to his missus. It was as if phones had never been invented.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The last two on the ice were from the ends of the skating spectrum. Ray Quinn had, it seemed, not shown much empathy with the ice dancing world during his short showbiz career, but in this show, he has proved to be a natural. He has confidence, poise, and an affinity with his dancing partner that belies their short time together.&lt;br /&gt;Ahem… on the other hand, day time TV presenter, Coleen Nolan, has as much talent for ice dancing as Kate Winslet would for wrestling.&lt;br /&gt;Coleen, her skates, her partner, and the ice, do not make up a winning team. However, someone on these shows always has to be on ‘a journey’ and it is Coleen’s fate to have a one way ticket through to the next round, presumably on the sympathy vote.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The show is then brought to a pause, and we are given the phone numbers to call, to vote for our favourites. ITV then showed an episode of the usual type of Sunday evening programming (Wild At Heart, a sort of Doctor Doolittle in South Africa).&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When we return, an hour later, the first fifteen minutes of the second show are spent watching a ‘greatest hits’ of the earlier hour. This induces a strange and alarming sense of déjà vu to the unwary, and anyone who fell asleep during Wild At Heart would think they were in a Lost style time shift.&lt;br /&gt;The two dancers who poll the lowest scores have a ‘dance off’ and then the five judges decide who stays and who goes. Oddly, all of this was the least compelling part of the show. Perhaps if you have followed from the beginning and have adopted a favourite, it means more to that regular viewer.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The usual tension, now so part of the fabric of elimination shows, as the judges gave their verdict, and suddenly it was all over. Phillip Schofield had to shout, literally, in an audio mixing nightmare, over the top of the applauding and cheering crowd, and they were gone, along with Melinda Messenger, who received no votes from the panel, and expected to be voted out, before they had even danced their way through the eliminator.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dancing On Ice won’t break any new ground in our understanding of the human condition. It probably won’t win any BAFTAs. It will almost certainly never feature in our memories longer than its life span.&lt;br /&gt;Will I watch it next Sunday? Dammit I suspect I will.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="mailto:remotevision@gmail.com"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;remotevision@gmail.com&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30831139-8599436829289744651?l=remotevision.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30831139/posts/default/8599436829289744651'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30831139/posts/default/8599436829289744651'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://remotevision.blogspot.com/2009/02/ice-ice-baby.html' title='Ice Ice Baby'/><author><name>Terence</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14394053210334889811</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_g5oqfhP7Uj4/SWI5eUZlE9I/AAAAAAAAASU/h0v_L_ngTpU/S220/imdb.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_g5oqfhP7Uj4/SaRynfJv3YI/AAAAAAAAAZk/_Piv4d7Xn3k/s72-c/Siamese+Cat.JPG' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30831139.post-6966578333763157151</id><published>2009-02-08T21:11:00.002Z</published><updated>2009-02-08T21:16:36.609Z</updated><title type='text'>Cooking With Lamb</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_g5oqfhP7Uj4/SY9KyFlxOeI/AAAAAAAAAZU/_dZvGmo2xKY/s1600-h/Come+Dine+With+Me.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5300537510792870370" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 197px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 200px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_g5oqfhP7Uj4/SY9KyFlxOeI/AAAAAAAAAZU/_dZvGmo2xKY/s200/Come+Dine+With+Me.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Come Dine With Me&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Food and television is not often a happy marriage. Cooking programmes, in particular, find themselves at Relate trying to save the marriage, not for the sake of the children, but for the welfare of the raspberry coulis.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The beauty of food, and the consumption of it, is of course, a multi-sensory experience. In reality, we see it, smell it, touch it, taste it, hopefully don’t hear it, but you see what I mean.&lt;br /&gt;On tv, the best we can hope for is a two dimensional hint at what has been cooked, which is why, since the early days of television, cookery shows have relied on personality and individuality to make the programme a success. To this day, we still rely on a cohort or ‘guest’ of the chef, to have a tasting on our behalf, and we can only judge by the level of the ‘oooh!’ and the ‘mmmm!’ whether the dish is a success.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fanny Cradock presented food in the manner of a headmistress, chiding the nation, and dishing out lines with the ration coupon recipes. Appearing in the kitchen in evening gown and pearls, Fanny would berate her (not really married…) husband, Johnny, and cartoon henpecked husbands across the land winced as they peeled the spuds.&lt;br /&gt;In the late sixties and early seventies, Graham Kerr, the ‘Galloping Gourmet’ became the staple diet of afternoon viewing with his glamorous, frantic personality, and his penchant for using rich ingredients. Kerr would finish the show by finding a pretty woman from the audience, with whom he would flirtingly share the dish he had just prepared.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pretty much nothing changed in the eighties, nineties and now the noughties. Chefs and cooks came and went. From the irritating Worrall Thompson to the extravagant use of language of Ramsey; from the homely Delia to the sensuous Nigella, they drifted into our homes, and bookshelves, and away again.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In four years, Come Dine With Me has moved on from being one of those programmes students enjoy instead of attending lectures, and indeed has moved on from putting the focus on food.&lt;br /&gt;In a relatively unchanged format, five people, unknown to one another, each host a dinner party on successive days of the week, secretly voting marks out of ten for each other, at the end of the evening’s ‘fun’. The winner, at the end of each week, receives one thousand pounds.&lt;br /&gt;However, the show is now rather less about the food, and more about the social interaction between the contenders, and more vitally, the voiceover style commentary of Dave Lamb.&lt;br /&gt;Opinions are split about Lamb’s contribution. He may be a comedy genius, adding a layer of hilarity that has made the programme compulsive viewing, or he is a smug ‘know-it-all’ whose clever dick comments destroy the warm nature of the show. I pretty much go with the former view.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Much of the appeal may be in the certainty of the format. These days we can be almost certain that the five ‘cooks’ will include, the camp one, the posh one, the aggravating one, the eccentric one, and the normal-ish one (who never wins).&lt;br /&gt;To appeal to the voyeur in viewers, we also get to poke about in each contender’s house, peeping into cupboards and closets, where the quirkiness and individuality of people’s lives can often be displayed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The show doesn’t really give enough scope for ‘Big Brother’ style show-offs to try and use the few minutes of screen time to audition for ‘fame’. The twenty-four minutes, each day, are tightly, and superbly, edited, to ensure we concentrate on the relationships between the participants, and on any quirks of the individuals. The editing suite loves nothing more than a dish going wrong, and how the moment is, or isn’t, resolved.&lt;br /&gt;A glass of wine spilled on a sofa, a dropped anchovy, or a soufflé that won’t rise, and the camera lingers, whilst Dave Lamb spices up the commentary.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Of course, it is unlikely that any of us would ever have a semi-formal dining experience with the same people over five successive days, unless, of course, you are maitre d’ at The Wolseley. This unusual aspect of closeness to five strangers adds to the possibilities of passing friendship or, alternatively, alienation, and magnifies the campness or poshness, allowing Dave Lamb free rein with the capricious, comedic, discourse.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Naturally, Come Dine With Me will have a shelf life, just like that jar of mixed spices at the back of the cupboard, and we will get fed up with it in time, until it returns in 2015 in a burst of nostalgia, where it will be introduced by Ant &amp;amp; Dec.&lt;br /&gt;Until that day, we can pretend to be interested in the recipes, and the winner of the thousand pounds, whilst sniggering at Dave Lamb’s asides, and wondering why so many people have feather boas at the back of their closets.&lt;br /&gt;As a contestant, Fanny Cradock would have thought she had stumbled into hell on earth. She would have blamed it all on Johnny and written a stiff letter to the Daily Telegraph.&lt;br /&gt;"I’m awarding Fanny a three, because she threw the Yorkshire pudding at me."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="mailto:remotevision@gmail.com"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#ff0000;"&gt;remotevision@gmail.com&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30831139-6966578333763157151?l=remotevision.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30831139/posts/default/6966578333763157151'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30831139/posts/default/6966578333763157151'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://remotevision.blogspot.com/2009/02/cooking-with-lamb.html' title='Cooking With Lamb'/><author><name>Terence</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14394053210334889811</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_g5oqfhP7Uj4/SWI5eUZlE9I/AAAAAAAAASU/h0v_L_ngTpU/S220/imdb.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_g5oqfhP7Uj4/SY9KyFlxOeI/AAAAAAAAAZU/_dZvGmo2xKY/s72-c/Come+Dine+With+Me.JPG' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30831139.post-3026639793257024192</id><published>2009-02-01T20:12:00.005Z</published><updated>2009-02-01T21:10:02.902Z</updated><title type='text'>The Chuckle Brothers</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_g5oqfhP7Uj4/SYYG-sTcawI/AAAAAAAAAWk/BMA2LypDYf0/s1600-h/Chuckle+Brothers.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5297929685762337538" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 200px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_g5oqfhP7Uj4/SYYG-sTcawI/AAAAAAAAAWk/BMA2LypDYf0/s200/Chuckle+Brothers.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Match Of The Day - 31st January 2009&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;It has to be accepted, of course, that the most important issue in sports coverage, is that we see the action. We can't really complain about that these days, with the multitude of camera angles, and the introduction of High Definition (even though HD is not yet used effectively) viewing. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;However, it would be handy if sometimes we cut away from the fifth replay of an insignificant corner, when we can hear the crowd's growing excitement at some action happening 'live', whilst at home we continue to muse on Scott Carson missing his punch.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;The theme music for Match Of The Day (MOTD) is a bright, cheery, piece of music that is so associated with football that just hearing the opening bars immediately evokes memories of Barry "Just Look At His Face" Davies, Clive Thomas of Treorchy, and Ron Harris 'tackling' Tony Currie whilst simultaneously sending him into the front row of the main stand.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Tricky then, that after that brassy, upbeat intro, we are met with the slightly baleful (these days) face of Gary Lineker. Now I know that we all think of Gary as the second greatest living Englishman behind Stephen Fry, but it is debatable if the former England striker fits into the right sort of format we seek in 2009. Yes, I know it is heresy to write such potential calumny, but listen to Five Live when Danny Baker is running the phone in, and we can see how different it could be. Danny, of course, does not translate to some strands of television. He can become a bit overwhelmed and go a bit 'silly'. However, it is the &lt;em&gt;style&lt;/em&gt; of presentation to which I refer.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;So, here we are, with Gary, dressed from head to toe in funereal black, and joining him, on the inevitable sofa, BBC Sport's version of the Chuckle Brothers - Alan Hansen and Alan Shearer. One dressed in black and grey; the other in grey and black. We don't need these fellows to wear clown costumes, but couldn't someone from 'Wardrobe' find them something a little less... downbeat?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;I have no doubt that as another season approaches, each Head of Sports Broadcasting (these men - it is always men - must have their job roles in capital letters) ponders on how they can edge away from the 'suited presenter/three ex-professionals in a line' format, but come September, there's Ruud Gullit and Mark 'Lawro' Lawrenson back with us once more.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;There have been minor attempts at change. However, plonking Andy Townshend and Ally McCoist on the edge of the pitch with a little occasional table was always doomed to fail, as they increasingly desperately shoved their ear pieces ever further into their ear canals in a hopeless attempt to pick up whatever Gaby/Steve/whoever is saying back up in the tiny conservatory balanced precariously above the corner flag.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;This week, on MOTD, they got the basics right. We saw all the goals, and the major action with its attendant talking points.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;First up was Manchester United at home to Everton. The team with multiple strikers against the team with none.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Not much happened, which was handy as I was transfixed by the orange nature of Cristiano Ronaldo's face, and the head wear adopted by Carlos Tevez, which suggested he had made a quick stop at Claire's Accessories before turning up at Old Trafford. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;After a routine 1-0 win, we were reminded of the animosity that Sir Alex Ferguson still holds for the BBC as he refuses all interviews, and up to the plate stepped Mike Phelan, the assistant manager, to say the sort of meaningless nothingness that club representatives say every week.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;So the rest of the show drifted past, with Wigan in their highlighter pen coloured yellow shirts erecting some sort of force field in front of their goal, and later, the increasingly dire defending of Portsmouth, once again sending them to defeat.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Fans of WWF would have enjoyed the mass bundle at Stoke, which followed Rory Delap's grouchy 'tackle' on Shaun Wright-Phillips.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Throughout, we returned to the laconic Gary, and the gloom riddled features of Alan H. and &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Alan S.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;It feels as if they are self censoring as they comment, as if in fear of upsetting the great, the good, and the not so good, amongst their former playing and managerial colleagues, which is why we maybe need a change.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;A presenter who loves football, but who does not owe his living to it, and after-match commentators who will say what we are thinking, or better still, bring us insights that we may have missed, without checking whether they may upset the power brokers and 'controllers' of the greatest game that ever there was.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Until then, the 'Sofa Men' will continue to tell us that 'the lad will be disappointed with that shot' as the expensive import balloons the ball out of the ground, and 'that may have been a touch over the top' as the midfield general scythes a tackle at the hapless forward's midriff.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Give them a red card, and bring football television coverage forward by a century or two.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="mailto:remotevision@gmail.com"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#ff0000;"&gt;remotevision@gmail.com&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30831139-3026639793257024192?l=remotevision.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30831139/posts/default/3026639793257024192'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30831139/posts/default/3026639793257024192'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://remotevision.blogspot.com/2009/02/chuckle-brothers.html' title='The Chuckle Brothers'/><author><name>Terence</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14394053210334889811</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_g5oqfhP7Uj4/SWI5eUZlE9I/AAAAAAAAASU/h0v_L_ngTpU/S220/imdb.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_g5oqfhP7Uj4/SYYG-sTcawI/AAAAAAAAAWk/BMA2LypDYf0/s72-c/Chuckle+Brothers.JPG' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30831139.post-1377794910939062602</id><published>2009-01-26T19:14:00.002Z</published><updated>2009-01-26T19:56:22.357Z</updated><title type='text'>And In The End...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_g5oqfhP7Uj4/SX4LuVDNr9I/AAAAAAAAAWU/9cMwnZUONME/s1600-h/Ulrika.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5295683102386794450" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 125px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_g5oqfhP7Uj4/SX4LuVDNr9I/AAAAAAAAAWU/9cMwnZUONME/s200/Ulrika.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;CBB6 Day Twenty Two&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well we didn't see that coming, did we? The bookmakers certainly didn't either. Even when there was only Terry and Ulrika left, Paddy Power was quoting odds on for Terry.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Before we wonder about how it all imploded, we must look back on that last day. Ermmm, nothing happened. The last task or two weren't even screened (they must have been great, eh?).&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;There was an awful, awful, period where Verne and Ulrika were left alone at the kitchen table, and it was like a scene from the dinner party from Hades, like a demonic version of a Mike Leigh drama. Verne failed to engage in any sort of conversation with Ulrika, and initially, she sort of squirmed and fiddled with her hair in a kind of desperate subconscious plea for the ground to open up and swallow her whole ("provided I get my fee", would have been her last words).&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Verne acted as if he had found himself next to that person on a tube train who sits next to you when there are twenty other seats free, and asks you if you have found Jesus.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Coolio made a brief appearance in the middle of this disaster of social etiquette and graces and informed us that the fastest way to get over a woman, is to get another one. He said this in the manner of a fellow who has just learned that the gearbox on his VW Passat has fallen off somewhere on the M40 and is planning to replace it with a Nissan Micra.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;But then, he wandered off and Ulrika and Verne were alone again. Time stood still.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;I've no idea how Ulrika came to win the thing, and I'm not sure she knows herself. It is possibly that the others lost it rather than she won it. Terry Christian's comment about 'the kind of people who vote' may well have been his kamikaze farewell to the winner's podium. Verne really should not have got into that strange and unnerving business with the doll, and Coolio - well he just kept being Coolio.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;As the last few contenders left, Ulrika couldn't help herself. We had that quirky "be strong" comment again, this time as Ben left, and there she was holding the door for him. Verne got waved away by Ulrika with a "Hasta La Vista".&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;I was worried that she may confuse herself when it was time for her to climb those unforgiving stairs, and she may enter a sort of time and space vacuum, where Ulrika was constantly saying "be strong" to herself, whilst holding the door for herself to walk through.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;I haven't watched Big Brother's Big Mouth since The Man Of Whom We Dare Not Speak left the show a couple of seasons ago. But unable to find the strength to clamber off the sofa, I watched the 'episode' that immediately followed the crowning of Ulrika.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;It was....indescribably dreadful. Except I will try to describe it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;The rather well educated Jack Whitehall (who had previously seemed 'ok' when he was popping up in trailers for his show) seemed to go thoroughly berserk, and lose any sense of how to present a cup of tea, never mind a live show. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;He overtalked. He didn't listen to the answer of questions he posed. He used the 'f'' word about three times in each sentence, and the mere use of the word elicited huge gales of laughter and cheers from the baying crowd in the tiny studio. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;It felt like there had been no rehearsal and no prepared gags or 'funny' lines. It was all ad-hoc and anarchic, which may seem a cracking idea when proposed at a treatment brainstorming session in the creative department, but actually falls flatter than the Guinness Book Of World Records flattest pancake award winner when the presenter can't cope with the speed and the need for a sparky, right off the centre of the bat response to a remark or situation.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;To follow in the wake of Russell Brand was always going to be a tough assignment, but this didn't get anywhere close, and it left the ending of the twenty plus days, in the hands of that eternally irritating bloke from Heat magazine, and a few humourless hacks spread around the howling crowd. It meant we ended on a confused low, but, you know, it doesn't matter. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;As soon as they leave the house, the celebrities aren't even half as interesting any more. This turns out to be the greatest truism each year. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;The minute they walk down those steps, accompanied by shrieking and booing, they become one of us again, and that diminishes them back to the foibles and cares of the 'outside world'. There is no gold at the end of the BB rainbow. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Except for Ulrika's fee, of course...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="mailto:remotevision@gmail.com"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#ff0000;"&gt;remotevision@gmail.com&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30831139-1377794910939062602?l=remotevision.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30831139/posts/default/1377794910939062602'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30831139/posts/default/1377794910939062602'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://remotevision.blogspot.com/2009/01/and-in-end.html' title='And In The End...'/><author><name>Terence</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14394053210334889811</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_g5oqfhP7Uj4/SWI5eUZlE9I/AAAAAAAAASU/h0v_L_ngTpU/S220/imdb.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_g5oqfhP7Uj4/SX4LuVDNr9I/AAAAAAAAAWU/9cMwnZUONME/s72-c/Ulrika.JPG' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30831139.post-6142023615628728742</id><published>2009-01-23T19:28:00.002Z</published><updated>2009-01-23T20:00:52.228Z</updated><title type='text'>In The Soup</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_g5oqfhP7Uj4/SXobANyrdDI/AAAAAAAAAWM/xHAqq3JEjCQ/s1600-h/Vegetable+Soup.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5294574002443613234" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 153px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 200px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_g5oqfhP7Uj4/SXobANyrdDI/AAAAAAAAAWM/xHAqq3JEjCQ/s200/Vegetable+Soup.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;CBB6 Day Twenty One&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Some days, it must be hard being a member of the Jackson family, and not being the one called Michael. LaToya must occasionally have a burning urge to shout, "I'm LaToya, not Michael! If you want to know about Michael, go ask Michael! I'm LaToya!"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Since the excruciating conversation she had to endure with Tina, a couple of weeks back, LaToya has not had to face another awkward grilling, but yesterday, it was time for round two. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;LaToya has grace, and she wanted to defend her brother, but was also very aware that every word she says is closely examined and quoted, and then remixed and re-released.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;No wonder she doesn't like to leave the family compound in Encino. This was echoed by her reluctance to leave her bedroom in the mornings, and her occasional uncomfortableness amongst 'other people'. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;However... some of this is a little hard to reconcile with the fact that she has made something of a career from 'reality' type shows, in recent years. Her 'I used to be a policewoman' persona is based on her appearing in another reality show in the States, 'Armed and Famous', which was dropped by CBS after initial screenings in January 2007.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;There is, though, something rather charming and likeable about LaToya. It would seem she is very aware that she is booked for these things in the hope of the defences dropping and some indiscretion or other being 'revealed', but she carries on regardless, and, no doubt, will turn up again in some celebrity based piece of tomfoolery before too long.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;The tasks, as with the evictions, haven't really had the dramatic effect on the celebrity version when compared to the longer, summer shows. These famous people simply don't care about being evicted. They aren't really seeking a place on the starting grid of fame. They are already running on that track, and so it is not going to be the life changing punishment it is to the non-celebs, if they are booted out, or fail a task, rendering themselves unpopular enough to be nominated by their peers in the house.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;So, licking mirrors, armpits or whatever, is simply a diversion for a few minutes, rather than a make or break event. When Tommy was asked (the horror, the fear!) to drink a couple of cold drinks, you could feel the anti-climax in the air. Ulrika's bid at licking a fish eyeball was considered too dull to even screen it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;It would seem sensible, if you ever invite Verne round to your house for the evening, to give him alcohol in teaspoon sized portions, as he had a slightly bigger amount to drink, and went nuts on his scooter again, mowing down chairs (and Ben and Coolio if they hadn't leaped out of the way).&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Verne remains the red hot favourite to win. We shall see, shortly...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="mailto:remotevision@gmail.com"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#ff0000;"&gt;remotevision@gmail.com&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30831139-6142023615628728742?l=remotevision.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30831139/posts/default/6142023615628728742'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30831139/posts/default/6142023615628728742'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://remotevision.blogspot.com/2009/01/in-soup.html' title='In The Soup'/><author><name>Terence</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14394053210334889811</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_g5oqfhP7Uj4/SWI5eUZlE9I/AAAAAAAAASU/h0v_L_ngTpU/S220/imdb.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_g5oqfhP7Uj4/SXobANyrdDI/AAAAAAAAAWM/xHAqq3JEjCQ/s72-c/Vegetable+Soup.JPG' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30831139.post-7152924413702974789</id><published>2009-01-22T18:21:00.002Z</published><updated>2009-01-22T19:09:29.363Z</updated><title type='text'>Hail To The Chief</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_g5oqfhP7Uj4/SXi5WbolpfI/AAAAAAAAAWE/K_5jqPIMp4g/s1600-h/Stars+Stripes.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5294185157000275442" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_g5oqfhP7Uj4/SXi5WbolpfI/AAAAAAAAAWE/K_5jqPIMp4g/s200/Stars+Stripes.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;CBB6 Day Twenty&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;We've had a few rather odd incidents over the last day or so. I found the clip of Verne kissing that doll a bit...strange...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;I probably wasn't alone, as the snippet was cut from the repeat of the highlights show. Why would anyone edit that bit out if there wasn't some concern expressed? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Then, during the inauguration, we had Coolio giving a 'salute' that was much in vogue in the late 1960s, but surely the election of President Obama is for all American citizens and not just for a section of the community?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Ulrika gave a big, big, sigh, and offered us her analysis of LaToya, who, Ulrika felt, was ingratiating herself to the other housemates, particularly the men. Probably true, but no great insight, as that is the behaviour exhibited by several housemates each year, if they wish to be serious contenders.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Delicate LaToya let out a wail when she first encountered the rodeo task, yet, as with other, earlier, tasks she put her heart into it and survived the experience.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Never was the notion that the UK and the USA are two nations divided by a common language, shown more unremittingly than in the housemates' behaviour during the new President's inauguration. Several of the European contingent felt obliged to give a running commentary with, one housemate in particular, making very derogatory remarks about the last President.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Now before we get on our 'high horse', and begin to tell our US cousins to calm down a bit, we should examine how these differences occur.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Because we are a monarchy led democracy, we can criticise Mr Brown or Mr Cameron, and it is not considered unpatriotic, as we have the Queen as our nation's figurehead. So consequently, she stands above the politicians, and we can respect our Queen and Country, but still 'have a go' at MPs; even parody them, and make them the butt of jokes. It doesn't reflect on the country as a whole, merely on the individuals who put themselves up for office.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;But, the USA is a republic. They don't have a monarchy, or non-elected representative, like our Royal Family. So the President, elected though he may be, is not only the political leader, he is also the icon that stands for all that is the USA, and the American people see the President as emblematic. Regardless of who received their vote, as soon as the election is over, everyone supports the President.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;In was in this context that LaToya made her very valid point, that the 'non-Americans' should have viewed the proceedings with respect. Criticism of the USA and the President hurts American people to their soul. Disrespect of the President is treated as disrespect of the country and its people. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Even if much of humanity outside of the USA has qualms and concerns about recent American (in particular military) behaviour throughout the globe, it could be deemed to be very inconsiderate to choose Barack Obama's inauguration as the moment to launch into an anti USA rant. In fact, it was simply bad manners, at the very least.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;So it is a 'well said' and cheerio to Latoya, who conducted herself with dignity, and left with equal grace.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;An expert in psychological analysis might be able to tell us why Ulrika feels compelled to be the person who says the last word to the evictee, and feels equally strongly, that she simply must hold the door open for the housemate to leave, standing there watching them amble up the steps.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Perhaps she feels she is the mother hen, sending her little chicks out into the world. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Or maybe she's thinking, "I wonder if I can leg it up there and escape behind LaToya?'.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Too late Ms Jonsson, you're there to the end now, girl.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="mailto:remotevision@gmail.com"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#ff0000;"&gt;remotevision@gmail.com&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30831139-7152924413702974789?l=remotevision.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30831139/posts/default/7152924413702974789'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30831139/posts/default/7152924413702974789'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://remotevision.blogspot.com/2009/01/hail-to-chief.html' title='Hail To The Chief'/><author><name>Terence</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14394053210334889811</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_g5oqfhP7Uj4/SWI5eUZlE9I/AAAAAAAAASU/h0v_L_ngTpU/S220/imdb.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_g5oqfhP7Uj4/SXi5WbolpfI/AAAAAAAAAWE/K_5jqPIMp4g/s72-c/Stars+Stripes.JPG' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30831139.post-5195292470407385926</id><published>2009-01-21T18:59:00.002Z</published><updated>2009-01-21T19:41:02.912Z</updated><title type='text'>Ask All The Men</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_g5oqfhP7Uj4/SXdyWpylH-I/AAAAAAAAAV8/ee4InITRsHE/s1600-h/Movie+Camera.JPG"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5293825620497997794" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 159px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_g5oqfhP7Uj4/SXdyWpylH-I/AAAAAAAAAV8/ee4InITRsHE/s200/Movie+Camera.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;strong&gt; &lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;CBB6 Day Nineteen&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All of us can tell we're getting near the end now. The housemates look weary, and need the stimulation of tasks and rewards to get themselves out of bed or off the sofas.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Similarly, at home, we may find ourselves equally acknowledging with satisfaction that we are in the last days.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;It hasn't been a particularly bad series, but it has run out of steam on the last lap.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;One or two of the tasks have also seemed a bit tired too. We've had the 'make a play/movie/drama out of the events in the house' before, of course. This time round, I felt, we spent too much time on the 'making of', rather than watching the actual footage, and simply watching the housemates' movie might have worked out to be more fun for both them and us.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Ulrika carried out an endearing self parody as she re-enacted her arrival in the house, but of course, she had to first check where her marker was for her piece to camera, as she appeared to forget she was facing a hand held camera grasped in the lap of Verne Troyer, rather than being cast in a remake of The Godfather. Or in this case, The Godmother.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Terry portrayed the unlamented Tina with great style and panache, and with great attention paid to the range and flow of the profanities. If he ever auditions for a supporting role in Shameless, I suspect he will be away to a flying start if he repeats this sterling performance.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;In the commercial breaks, the number of ads for comparison websites seems to grow daily. There seems to be an unwritten rule that these sort of commercials have to be so awful that you want to throw your remote at the TV, whilst shouting, "Compare that, Mr &amp;amp; Mrs Smug I've Saved Fifty Quid". The absolutely worst one features a sort of Goth-lite young chap, who looks like he should be doing his homework, rather than annoying us during the ad break. He has been cast to tell us how 'cool' the revamped website is, and how easy it is to use. Oh look, how amusing - he's drawn a little smiley face on the palm of his hand. I'd like to slap him with the palm of my hand.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;With the number of these adverts now reaching astronomical proportions, it might make good commercial sense to start up a comparison website that compares all the other comparison websites.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Tonight, it is simply a question of who will be evicted with Tommy. It would seem to be a relatively close run thing between LaToya and Coolio, with LaToya expected to be the one to go. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Quote of the day:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Verne: "Why are all the women leaving?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Ulrika: "Ask all the men."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Yay! Go compare that!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="mailto:remotevision@gmail.com"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#ff0000;"&gt;remotevision@gmail.com&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30831139-5195292470407385926?l=remotevision.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30831139/posts/default/5195292470407385926'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30831139/posts/default/5195292470407385926'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://remotevision.blogspot.com/2009/01/ask-all-men.html' title='Ask All The Men'/><author><name>Terence</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14394053210334889811</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_g5oqfhP7Uj4/SWI5eUZlE9I/AAAAAAAAASU/h0v_L_ngTpU/S220/imdb.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_g5oqfhP7Uj4/SXdyWpylH-I/AAAAAAAAAV8/ee4InITRsHE/s72-c/Movie+Camera.JPG' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30831139.post-5731158832253308657</id><published>2009-01-20T18:47:00.003Z</published><updated>2009-01-20T19:23:14.947Z</updated><title type='text'>Blame It On The Chili</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_g5oqfhP7Uj4/SXYcSG2G5XI/AAAAAAAAAV0/xGJAxg4xdXc/s1600-h/Homer+Chili.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5293449509421376882" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 151px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_g5oqfhP7Uj4/SXYcSG2G5XI/AAAAAAAAAV0/xGJAxg4xdXc/s200/Homer+Chili.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;CBB6 Day Eighteen&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At the Chili Cook-Off, held each year in Springfield, Homer Simpson ate this high-powered 'super-chili' derived from a mysterious species of pepper, grown in the wilds of Guatemala.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Homer went off into some sort of trippy state of mind and met a talking coyote who helped him on this trip of trips to find his soul mate.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Naturally, the CBB chili eating contest was never quite going to match up to Homer's journey into the furthest reaches of his mind (not a very distant journey, I'm sure Selma and Patty Bouvier would agree).&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;In fact, far from taking any housemate on a distant voyage to their psyche, the experience only took them closer to the bathroom, where several housemates felt the need to hover 'just in case' for some time.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Oh! Hold on. What's this? I recognise that manic grin, and the bizarre stare. It must be Davina with a surprise eviction. It has now become traditional that for an hour, Davina persuades us that the housemates know nothing of the upcoming eviction, and expresses excitement at the sense of shock she anticipates will surely follow her plasma screen appearance in their midst.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Then when she appears, the housemates all say that they knew 'something' was up, and had guessed there would be an eviction. A bit of an anti-climax there, Davina.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;We also had the traditional moment when the evictee clambers down the steps, to be greeted by universal booing, and the welcoming arms of Davina, who moves the microphone away and mutters, 'Don't worry, it's all just a pantomime' to the now ex-housemate. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Davina, they know! This whole caboodle has been running for nearly ten years now.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Everyone who nominated Ulrika, made her their first choice. She was the first name mentioned by Ben, Coolio, LaToya, Tommy and Verne.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Amongst the reasons for nomination: 'dictating, bossy, used to the spotlight, a teacher, controlling, not a collectivist (guess who said that!), and wearing.' Not especially the kind of bullet points you would put on your CV, but if you're getting 175 grand, I guess you can live with it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;When it came to the point of Michelle's departure, Ulrika had to have the last word. "Be Strong" cried Ulrika, as if Michelle was heading for Guantanamo Bay, rather than a brief rendezvous with an invited Channel Four audience.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Uh-oh Terry. You may have not done yourself many favours with the quote of the day, probably the quote of the series, when you referred to:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;"all the thick types who vote on shows like this"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Blame it on the chili. Homer would.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="mailto:remotevision@gmail.com"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#ff0000;"&gt;remotevision@gmail.com&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30831139-5731158832253308657?l=remotevision.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30831139/posts/default/5731158832253308657'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30831139/posts/default/5731158832253308657'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://remotevision.blogspot.com/2009/01/blame-it-on-chili.html' title='Blame It On The Chili'/><author><name>Terence</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14394053210334889811</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_g5oqfhP7Uj4/SWI5eUZlE9I/AAAAAAAAASU/h0v_L_ngTpU/S220/imdb.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_g5oqfhP7Uj4/SXYcSG2G5XI/AAAAAAAAAV0/xGJAxg4xdXc/s72-c/Homer+Chili.JPG' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30831139.post-6453258441912299309</id><published>2009-01-19T18:32:00.002Z</published><updated>2009-01-19T19:20:30.177Z</updated><title type='text'>Day Seventeen Reviewed (Ulrika, Guitar Hero)</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_g5oqfhP7Uj4/SXTJ2TYSfOI/AAAAAAAAAVs/z2Ti_woewNU/s1600-h/Fake+Eyelashes.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5293077396819442914" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 139px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_g5oqfhP7Uj4/SXTJ2TYSfOI/AAAAAAAAAVs/z2Ti_woewNU/s200/Fake+Eyelashes.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;CBB6 Day Seventeen&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;A day of significant change. We saw Michelle undertaking a rather frightening session of aerobics, though obviously this was not as scary as her new false eyelashes - now we know what really happened to the tarantula. It ended up glued to Michelle's eyelids.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Whilst LaToya really began to express herself and take a lead, Ulrika began the day (it was all to change later) walking round the house as if she was carrying a huge sack of coal on her back.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;However, the most terrifying image of the day was seeing Tommy walking about covered only in a succession of towels, and finally, some rather too short shorts. Tommy has a lot of hair.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;The 'task of the day' had potential. In a sort of 'let's do the show right here' moment, the group were asked to form a band and compose a song, with the lyrics reflecting their time in the house, (or hoose) if you are a fan of Tommy.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;However, we were left with another vague feeling that this was (yet another) attempt to force Ben into the front of our attention.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;LaToya and Coolio wanted to take the task very seriously indeed - from a musician's perspective. Yet Ulrika (surely she is going tonight?) with no discernible musical talent, still felt that she was the best qualified housemate to take charge. She claimed to be able to play guitar, but had to ask Ben to tell her if he was playing 'notes or chords' and that she was sure she could play along if only he would write down these chords for her.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Later in the 'proper' performance, Ulrika seemed to have no idea whatsoever how to form a chord, or indeed, how to even hold a guitar. All very strange.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;The task was very kindly edited, because in real time, there were several stoppages and false handovers between the housemates. These rather painful moments did not appear in the screened version.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;In no way 'full of herself', as in Terry's memorable description, Ulrika felt obliged to review the performance (hers was flawless, naturally), and advised us that Tommy got his timing wrong. He's a politician, sister! What did you expect? Prince combined with The Proclaimers?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Quote of the day:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Coolio - "I'd rather be loved than feared."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="mailto:remotevision@gmail.com"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#ff0000;"&gt;remotevision@gmail.com&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30831139-6453258441912299309?l=remotevision.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30831139/posts/default/6453258441912299309'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30831139/posts/default/6453258441912299309'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://remotevision.blogspot.com/2009/01/day-seventeen-reviewed-ulrika-guitar.html' title='Day Seventeen Reviewed (Ulrika, Guitar Hero)'/><author><name>Terence</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14394053210334889811</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_g5oqfhP7Uj4/SWI5eUZlE9I/AAAAAAAAASU/h0v_L_ngTpU/S220/imdb.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_g5oqfhP7Uj4/SXTJ2TYSfOI/AAAAAAAAAVs/z2Ti_woewNU/s72-c/Fake+Eyelashes.JPG' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30831139.post-4306806698610336213</id><published>2009-01-18T10:49:00.003Z</published><updated>2009-01-18T11:13:28.929Z</updated><title type='text'>How Many Eggs In A Dozen?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_g5oqfhP7Uj4/SXMJOYiDU7I/AAAAAAAAAVk/tJscP18-b_w/s1600-h/Tarantula.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5292584129798558642" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 148px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_g5oqfhP7Uj4/SXMJOYiDU7I/AAAAAAAAAVk/tJscP18-b_w/s200/Tarantula.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;CBB6 Day Sixteen&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am transmitting this thought to the housemates by the use of new science, involving extra sensory perception, CGI, and revolutionary, 21st century, mind waves.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;STOP! Stop the absurd and irritating conversations/rants about the desperation you have to leave the 'house within a studio'. You agreed to do this! You were not woken up at 4.00am and taken to Elstree whilst blindfolded and handcuffed. There are no snipers guarding the fences next to Tesco. There are, indeed, no electrified fences. You don't need to dig a tunnel. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;All you have to do is follow Mutya's path and simply say, "I think I'll go now, thanks very much." What's that you say? Your fee? The financial penalty clauses for walking out? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;You signed the contract. Get on with it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;The edit for the one hour highlight show is carried out with a guillotine. If something doesn't work, it is dropped without explanation. The Men vs Women task can't have been much of a goer as we only saw two of the six 'tasks within a task', and even the ironing, multi-task affair was a bit limp.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;In addition, it was all very odd how we skimmed over the point that three of the women couldn't be fussed to get involved with the 'spider in a room but not in a room' aspect. We saw LaToya and Michelle shriek a little, and then the chaps huddled together, and then... nothing happened.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Strange, but it did, of course, ratify the already well known fact (to 50% of the population) that men are, obviously, better than women.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;It was possible to warm towards Mutya when she wasn't griping, or wearing that spotty gown. She decided to leave, and did so with dignity, and without the hysterical dramatics of some of her colleagues.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Michelle, yet again, was flooding the bedroom with tears, as she had to go 'because' of Coolio. Except, she didn't go. Again.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;LaToya has a remarkable hold over Coolio. He listens, and then follows her advice and instructions to the letter. Incidentally, have you noticed a strange mannerism that Coolio displays when he has a significant point to make? He sits at the table. He draws in a deep breath and makes some 'profound' statement, designed to make everyone else's collective jaws drop. He then can't help but leap up from the table and stride around as his oratory sinks in. He paces about waiting for the reaction, and, of course, this action adds to the dramatic effect, and everyone gets drawn into thinking that he has just said something so important, that the world has stopped turning for a few minutes.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Meanwhile, I have to go off to Wikipedia now. I need to check exactly how many eggs there are in a dozen.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="mailto:remotevision@gmail.com"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#ff0000;"&gt;remotevision@gmail.com&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30831139-4306806698610336213?l=remotevision.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30831139/posts/default/4306806698610336213'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30831139/posts/default/4306806698610336213'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://remotevision.blogspot.com/2009/01/how-many-eggs-in-dozen.html' title='How Many Eggs In A Dozen?'/><author><name>Terence</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14394053210334889811</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_g5oqfhP7Uj4/SWI5eUZlE9I/AAAAAAAAASU/h0v_L_ngTpU/S220/imdb.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_g5oqfhP7Uj4/SXMJOYiDU7I/AAAAAAAAAVk/tJscP18-b_w/s72-c/Tarantula.JPG' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30831139.post-4753332468993792106</id><published>2009-01-17T12:28:00.002Z</published><updated>2009-01-17T13:02:48.693Z</updated><title type='text'>Bowling Ball On Legs</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_g5oqfhP7Uj4/SXHPXPRw9cI/AAAAAAAAAVc/B25_0pVLlUc/s1600-h/Bowling+Ball.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5292239035282027970" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 124px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 200px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_g5oqfhP7Uj4/SXHPXPRw9cI/AAAAAAAAAVc/B25_0pVLlUc/s200/Bowling+Ball.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;CBB6 Day Fifteen&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Ah! Good. We can concentrate on Tina, because we will probably never have to do so again.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;First though, we can celebrate Davina's opening line in her preamble, where she urged the contenders to simply "get on with it, you're getting paid".&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;More than one has seemed to have forgotten that they actually &lt;em&gt;agreed&lt;/em&gt; to do this show.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Terry brought his usual voice of common sense to this issue, by remarking that being in the BB house was "a bit like being in rehab - we're being paid to lose weight, let's take advantage of it".&lt;br /&gt;Tommy Sheridan seems to view his participation as a vehicle to promote various socialist causes. Wear the t-shirt, save the world. I'm sure President Chavez of Venezuela will call a national holiday in his country, to honour Red Tommy being clad in a supportive vest yesterday.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Although Davina started well, we had to suffer with her, as the awful pun about 'Mini-Me, Mini-Mimi" slid past the live audience without even a whimper, never mind a giggle. I paid some interest to the closing credits and noted there exists a 'script supervisor'. Listen to me, script supervisor! Puns don't work for laughs. People groan or ignore puns. They don't create laffs-a-go-go under any circumstances. Write her some proper gags.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;So we had World War Three over a shopping list (cast your mind back to the opening night - remember how everyone was going to get on, chill, and talk through any problems? Oh yeah..)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Tina, shouting like a fishwife (though I have never heard a fishwife shout, I must confess), was screeching in complaint about the way people speak to each other. "Even if you're f-----g me and paying my mortgage you can't talk to me that way". Mmm nice double standards there.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;It is probable that BB had the 'no moaning for an hour' task on standby for such a moment as this, when the gobbier factions were close to losing control altogether. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;As so often when there is a prize related to food and drink for an ad-hoc task, the reward looked like it had, suspiciously, been bought in, pre-prepared, from Tesco.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;By a strange coincidence, there is an enormous Tesco about fifty yards from the BB production office. I cannot say whether this has anything to do with the matter.... ahem....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Sorry Davina. I'm really sorry to join in with the criticism again, but after Tina ran through the anticipated, but ridiculous, 'delighted to be evicted' routine, your interview was terrible.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;After viewing some dramatic low-lights, Tina was clearly and visibly horrified at herself and her behaviour. Davina played her usual response to boorishness, by encouraging the celebration of rudeness, lack of vocabulary and aggression in the face of adversity. "You were very funny", cried Davina.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;The Romeo and Juliet debacle was described as "awesome". "You've been a supportive friend - brilliant"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;What cobblers.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;It was rather cruel, but it is hard to shake from the mind, the image that Coolio suggested, when he said that he wasn't "taking it from a bowling ball on legs."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;I fear I shall always recall Tina with that image in my mind.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="mailto:remotevision@gmail.com"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#ff0000;"&gt;remotevision@gmail.com&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30831139-4753332468993792106?l=remotevision.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30831139/posts/default/4753332468993792106'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30831139/posts/default/4753332468993792106'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://remotevision.blogspot.com/2009/01/bowling-ball-on-legs.html' title='Bowling Ball On Legs'/><author><name>Terence</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14394053210334889811</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_g5oqfhP7Uj4/SWI5eUZlE9I/AAAAAAAAASU/h0v_L_ngTpU/S220/imdb.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_g5oqfhP7Uj4/SXHPXPRw9cI/AAAAAAAAAVc/B25_0pVLlUc/s72-c/Bowling+Ball.JPG' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30831139.post-2531424188610467672</id><published>2009-01-17T07:37:00.002Z</published><updated>2009-01-17T08:20:29.136Z</updated><title type='text'>Balloon On A Stick</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_g5oqfhP7Uj4/SXGNAleLXYI/AAAAAAAAAVU/g-dPureXKoM/s1600-h/Big+Keyboard.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5292166078335245698" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 158px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_g5oqfhP7Uj4/SXGNAleLXYI/AAAAAAAAAVU/g-dPureXKoM/s200/Big+Keyboard.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;CBB6 Day Fourteen&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Is this series of Celebrity Big Brother too long? In the 'not famous' version, in the summer, the 'housemates' are usually totally compliant in relation to everything that is asked of them, no matter how taxing a task might be. They are so terrified of being ejected from the house, because that would almost certainly end their bid for lasting fame.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Even the higher profile 'non celebrities' from the decade of summer Big Brother find it hard to sustain anything resembling a career, once they are outside the house. As a consequence, they are virtually self-programmed to stay to the (often) bitter end, to maximise their chances of staying 'famous' for more than fifteen minutes.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;The celebrities don't have that fear; they're famous already, and so they don't need the oxygen of publicity that Aisleyne or Nikki seek so voraciously. For the celebrities, it is almost a bonus to be voted out, so there is no real incentive for them to 'play the game'. Literally, in the case of the shopping task, which led to Coolio and Tommy going on strike, and Verne and Michelle giving up (personally I don't blame them).&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Perhaps if the whole caboodle was squashed into (maybe?) two weeks, then there may not be time for this "whatever" attitude to sink in. Either that, or they are advised that their personal fee, or their charity donation is at risk if they don't 'join in'.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;There was a vain attempt to make Ben appear even a little bit interesting and worthy of some screen time, when he was given the somewhat simple task of scaring someone. He 'hid' behind a chair and emerged, rather than leaped out at Ulrika, and as he did so, he tried to sound like a roaring dragon. Unfortunately, he sounded more like a mouse with a throat infection.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;The 'dance on a keyboard' thing worked well (but there is an oddity that LaToya always seems to be given tasks that involve her being tucked away from the group for hours/days at a time, to 'rehearse') and in a surprising twist, it was Mutya that took on the dainty role of dancing along the keyboard (rather cutely, it must be said) and Latoya who had the simpler role of plonking her toe on the bass notes. For all of Mutya's whining and moaning, she does transform into a whole different personality when she undertakes a role or task that she clearly enjoys.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;A couple of highlights in an otherwise rather an unmemorable day:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Tina, saying three times in sixty seconds, "I'm not being foony". Too true my dear, too true,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;and Terry, who must be a major contender to win, as he can see through the absurdity of the whole experience, plays along, and still manages to come up with some great 'one liners'. As Coolio was, again, trying to swagger and promote his 'gangsta' image, Terry told him he should start his reign of terror with a balloon on a stick. It brought to mind this wonderful image of Coolio striding the mean streets of Compton, and claiming it as his territory, whilst threatening all those who challenged him, with his little balloon. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Marvellous stuff indeed.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="mailto:remotevison@gmail.com"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#ff0000;"&gt;remotevison@gmail.com&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30831139-2531424188610467672?l=remotevision.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30831139/posts/default/2531424188610467672'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30831139/posts/default/2531424188610467672'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://remotevision.blogspot.com/2009/01/balloon-on-stick.html' title='Balloon On A Stick'/><author><name>Terence</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14394053210334889811</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_g5oqfhP7Uj4/SWI5eUZlE9I/AAAAAAAAASU/h0v_L_ngTpU/S220/imdb.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_g5oqfhP7Uj4/SXGNAleLXYI/AAAAAAAAAVU/g-dPureXKoM/s72-c/Big+Keyboard.JPG' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30831139.post-7634655536724264952</id><published>2009-01-15T19:24:00.003Z</published><updated>2009-01-15T19:52:18.766Z</updated><title type='text'>It's Your Problem</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_g5oqfhP7Uj4/SW-NmU-RgGI/AAAAAAAAAVM/Ay4s_w6rJbc/s1600-h/Toy+Car.JPG"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5291603776788070498" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 200px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_g5oqfhP7Uj4/SW-NmU-RgGI/AAAAAAAAAVM/Ay4s_w6rJbc/s200/Toy+Car.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt; &lt;strong&gt;CBB6 Day Thirteen&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;OK. OK. Maybe it isn't &lt;em&gt;all&lt;/em&gt; Coolio's fault, but Terry and Verne both agreed it has gone too far, and that Michelle found it all rather scary.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Whatever, it can't be right to cause a young woman to be permanently on the verge of tears.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Ulrika's u-turn through the day was a marvel to behold. In the morning, attempting to build bridges, she said, "Can we have some talking? Can we have a truce?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;By the end of the day, she was advising Michelle, "Don't even speak to him!"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;But it was Tina's insane advice that merited the jaw dropping award of the day. Probably the words Michelle least wished to hear, apart from "we're extending the show by another month" were Tina's bizarre analysis, which included telling Michelle that, "It's your problem". For a few seconds, Michelle tried to maintain equilibrium and nodded gracefully, but it was clear very quickly that this advice was about as welcome as a dinner date at KFC with Coolio would have been.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;"I don't want to talk about it", said Michelle. "Oh...ok...", replied Tina, and then proceeded to talk about it even more.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;I am trying hard to keep an objective view of the whole bullying/just a bit of fun debate, but it is hard to defend Coolio's weird and unkind words, later in the day, to both Michelle and HRH Ulrika.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;We had a 'task of the day' which brought some light relief, a form of focus, and proved to be a conversation starter-upper, but this only lasted until some housemates rebelled and simply didn't bother (hello Tommy &amp;amp; Coolio, Mutya, Verne &amp;amp; Michelle...). To be fair, these groups of tasks were rather feeble, and didn't we just have a 'learn to do something by watching a portable DVD player' a couple of days ago?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;The young children running through the house was a rather strange and potentially cruel moment. This seemed to have no point whatsoever, other than to recall the old horror movie 'Children of the Damned', and perhaps to stir up emotions of homesickness and thoughts of family, amongst the housemates. On the other hand, I guess they aren't prisoners, and they all, it would seem, signed up for the $$$$.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Finally, Coolio and Michelle gave us the two best comedy highlights of the day. The Gangsta trying to explain himself to Michelle whilst attempting to twist himself round inside a ridiculously small toy car, was a triumph.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;However, the best moment will be repeated many times in 'best of BB' shows for many a year. Coolio announced that his personality had left the building.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;"Thank f+++ for that!", responded Michelle.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="mailto:remotevision@gmail.com"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#ff0000;"&gt;remotevision@gmail.com&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30831139-7634655536724264952?l=remotevision.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30831139/posts/default/7634655536724264952'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30831139/posts/default/7634655536724264952'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://remotevision.blogspot.com/2009/01/its-your-problem.html' title='It&apos;s Your Problem'/><author><name>Terence</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14394053210334889811</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_g5oqfhP7Uj4/SWI5eUZlE9I/AAAAAAAAASU/h0v_L_ngTpU/S220/imdb.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_g5oqfhP7Uj4/SW-NmU-RgGI/AAAAAAAAAVM/Ay4s_w6rJbc/s72-c/Toy+Car.JPG' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30831139.post-2051891357971520288</id><published>2009-01-14T18:22:00.003Z</published><updated>2009-01-15T19:52:54.368Z</updated><title type='text'>Jamie Redknapp</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_g5oqfhP7Uj4/SW42GM0pNlI/AAAAAAAAAVE/TaAfOV252_0/s1600-h/Jamie+Redknapp.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5291226092356056658" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 146px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 200px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_g5oqfhP7Uj4/SW42GM0pNlI/AAAAAAAAAVE/TaAfOV252_0/s200/Jamie+Redknapp.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;CBB6 Day Twelve&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Seinfeld, the legendary American sitcom (although calling it a sitcom is deeply understating its significance and style) was, it was always said, a 'show about nothing'.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Generally, in a somewhat genius manifestation of clarity of writing, the main story would emerge at the beginning of the show, a whole melange of off shoots would grow in the following twenty minutes, and eventually, all routes led back to the main story for the denouement.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Day twelve in the Big Brother House was all about nothing, but sadly, there were no clever secondary plots, and there was no dramatic climax, unless we count the Michelle 'I'm leaving! No I'm not!' scene, as the big finish to the day's non-events.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;In a post-modern tribute to another legend of 1970s showbiz glamour, Coolio joined in the Dressing Gown Fever with his own daywear - a (Primark?) gown in sludgy grey, the colour of which matched the mood in the house.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;The nominations were a disappointment, oddly edited, and lacking any sort of tension, and without a commercial break cliffhanger. Perhaps the only surprise was Ulrika's choice of Ben &amp;amp; Latoya (wot not Coolio? no Terry?), but later today we shall see a general lack of surprise at the four nominations, and the now cliched 'delighted to be nominated' routine. This time, from Tina &amp;amp; Mutya.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Without a proper task, the housemates were found to be as moribund as the summer non-celeb crowd can be, when they are left to their own devices. Apart from the now familiar routine of watching Tina pick at herself (this time, the spots on her face), we really only had the Coolio winding up Michelle and Ben imbroglio to fill up the highlights show.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Now, the question - is Coolio 'winding up' or 'teasing' Michelle, or is this an underhand form of bullying, as there is no escape route for Michelle, other than, of course, to demand to be set free and run out into the arms of this chap, of whom she seems so fond (yet a little uncertain of the strength of their relationship)?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;I apologise for being Mr Pompous, but I am increasingly heading towards considering Coolio's behaviour falls into the bullying category.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;If, in a social environment, or in the workplace, someone keeps making inappropriate remarks, and upsetting the 'receiver', social normality, and common sense, would generally lead to the transgressor backing off, and, we would hope, apologising for the hurt that had been caused. Yet, Coolio, aware that Michelle finds his words and ways deeply uncomfortable, (and we must remember that he has apologised before for the same 'offence') continues to make these remarks, usually when he is bored. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Surely, no decent person can take pleasure in causing a young woman to burst into tears? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Coolio can say, all day and night long, in the diary room, that he is simply, "Telling the truth...", but it has no bearing on the nature of his actions and words whether his telling the truth, or not.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Coolio is not the policeman, or the moral judge, of Big Brother. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;It is no use Ben (who increasingly resembles Jamie Redknapp with each passing day) meekly, halfway into the room and halfway out of it, with his toothbrush as his only weapon), telling Coolio he should apologise to Michelle (again). &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;An apology means little to the bully or the bullied. What he should do is stop.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Despite all the contracts and subclauses and agreements about when fees are payable, the producers may need to consider that they are to provide entertainment, and not necessarily a spectacle.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="mailto:remotevision@gmail.com"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#ff0000;"&gt;remotevision@gmail.com&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30831139-2051891357971520288?l=remotevision.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30831139/posts/default/2051891357971520288'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30831139/posts/default/2051891357971520288'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://remotevision.blogspot.com/2009/01/cbb6-day-twelve-seinfeld-legendary.html' title='Jamie Redknapp'/><author><name>Terence</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14394053210334889811</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_g5oqfhP7Uj4/SWI5eUZlE9I/AAAAAAAAASU/h0v_L_ngTpU/S220/imdb.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_g5oqfhP7Uj4/SW42GM0pNlI/AAAAAAAAAVE/TaAfOV252_0/s72-c/Jamie+Redknapp.JPG' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30831139.post-4470639724815669491</id><published>2009-01-13T19:01:00.003Z</published><updated>2009-01-13T19:39:48.183Z</updated><title type='text'>Foot In Mouth Disease</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_g5oqfhP7Uj4/SWzlhzaIEPI/AAAAAAAAAUk/7ddymuuGNs4/s1600-h/Facebook.JPG"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5290856031151722738" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 200px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_g5oqfhP7Uj4/SWzlhzaIEPI/AAAAAAAAAUk/7ddymuuGNs4/s200/Facebook.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;CBB6 Day Eleven&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Stop her! Stop her! In the name of all that is good on this earth, somebody please stop her now!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;We were lulled, teased and led to a state of relaxation by the opening shot of Tina using a tissue. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;"Hoorah!", cried a grateful nation. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;I assumed, (as it turns out, wrongly) that a kindly, sensible, soul had taken Tina aside and 'had a quiet word' with her about her grooming habits.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;But no! Here we go, Tina is picking at her ear! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Wait a minute! She's picking at her feet! No, this can't go on.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Hold it! She's biting her feet - and trying to tear off bits of skin.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Now, this is where I may shock you. I am not, in fact, a doctor, or medically qualified in any way.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;However, my instinct tells me (I feel you may agree) that it is probably not the greatest display of hygiene to use your mouth to bite random parts of your feet (or indeed any other major parts of the human anatomy), without, as a bare minimum, soaking those same feet in the sort of substance we see those good folk in Holby City or Grey's Anatomy dousing themselves in, before they go and do what they do in their respective operating theatres (or even theaters).&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;As Tina was in her dressing gown (incidentally, how reassuring to see that Mutya's disrobing of her gown was merely a fleeting fancy - it was back, glued on, yesterday) - yes, as Tina was in her dressing gown, for one passing second, I thought about the romantic scene, back on Merseyside.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Tina and her partner, having had a lovely dinner at a top Liverpudlian diner (ok, fantasise and pretend that such a place may exist), they return to the love nest, and after sticking on a romantic CD (Echo &amp;amp; The Bunnymen's Greatest Hits?) they settle down to do what comes naturally. Tina's partner seeks her precious lips and aches to place a loving kiss on that delicate gob, the size of the Mersey Tunnel, when she whispers in his ear, "Hang on a second luv..." and she whips her big toe into her beak, and proceeds to rip off delicate shavings of skin and nail.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;"Right luvver boy, where were we?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;I rather liked Ulrika's description of her feelings when she became aware that Terry had described her as being just a tad high-handed.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;"You made a hole in me", she lamented, in a sort of pastiche of dialogue from 'Gone With The Wind'.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Though Vivian Leigh may have had the edge with "Oh! If I just wasn't a lady! What wouldn't I tell that varmint!"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;However, Ulrika did bring a sense of drama with her "You could have made me collapse..." riposte.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;LaToya may well have just about hit a spot on analysis when she figured that Ulrika is playing a sort of double bluff. Push everyone into thinking you are desperate to get out, so that they do all they can to keep you in. It may work too.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Back, as so often, to Tina. She displayed a marvellously outdated view of the use and purpose of the internet. "You've got to be ----ed up and insecure to use Facebook!" she squawked, seemingly unaware that Ben has 'discovered' his last three girlfriends through the very same network.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;This led to the day's best 'one-liner'. When Ben said that Tina was like a battering ram, after her anti-internet rant, Terry replied, "Well she'll never get sponsored by Google now..."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;There is though, I suppose, a marketing opportunity advertising cream for verrucas and athletes foot. It doesn't bear thinking about, does it?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="mailto:remotevision@gmail.com"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#ff0000;"&gt;remotevision@gmail.com&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30831139-4470639724815669491?l=remotevision.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30831139/posts/default/4470639724815669491'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30831139/posts/default/4470639724815669491'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://remotevision.blogspot.com/2009/01/cbb6-day-eleven-stop-her-stop-her-in.html' title='Foot In Mouth Disease'/><author><name>Terence</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14394053210334889811</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_g5oqfhP7Uj4/SWI5eUZlE9I/AAAAAAAAASU/h0v_L_ngTpU/S220/imdb.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_g5oqfhP7Uj4/SWzlhzaIEPI/AAAAAAAAAUk/7ddymuuGNs4/s72-c/Facebook.JPG' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30831139.post-6245144055808209004</id><published>2009-01-12T17:48:00.003Z</published><updated>2009-01-12T18:24:04.114Z</updated><title type='text'>Token Victory</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_g5oqfhP7Uj4/SWuClVForoI/AAAAAAAAAUc/SOdooRr8XzE/s1600-h/Football+Ballet.JPG"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5290465765104332418" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 162px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_g5oqfhP7Uj4/SWuClVForoI/AAAAAAAAAUc/SOdooRr8XzE/s200/Football+Ballet.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;CBB&lt;/span&gt;6 Day Ten&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Rhinotillexomania&lt;/span&gt;! There, I've written it. Just don't ask me to say it, or at least not too often, for it is the medical term for extreme nose picking. I am sorry to introduce this less than welcome subject into our daily meeting, but as Tina continues to shuffle her finger about, deep within her nasal cavities, I thought it might be instructive for us to know what the condition, from which she is clearly suffering, is referred to, when doctors get together at social gatherings.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;I was about to launch into a rather lengthy analysis of Tina's desire to continually research her nostrils, but it may be better for all of us if we do not dilly, nor indeed, dally, on the matter, but simply shout at the top of our collective voices:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;"GET A TISSUE!"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;For a brief moment yesterday, there was a flurry of excitement as we thought a new housemate had been smuggled in, but no - it was only &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Mutya&lt;/span&gt;. The short interlude that caught her without her &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;hoodie&lt;/span&gt; dressing gown led us astray.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;I had assumed that &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Mutya&lt;/span&gt; had been surgically attached to this increasingly grubby piece of clothing. Perhaps, I thought, it had been stitched to her skin at various crucial points, with the same skill and dexterity that severed limbs are sometimes reattached.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;We heard more of &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;Coolio's&lt;/span&gt; 'guide to womankind' and we are not improved by having heard it at all. In &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;Coolio's&lt;/span&gt; world, men who actively seek the company of women are 'players'. A woman who actively seeks the company of men, is a h*. It was with fatherly pride that &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;Coolio&lt;/span&gt; told us that he had taught his children to know the difference between a h*, a b*&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;tch&lt;/span&gt;, and a woman. An enlightened man, he is not.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;As so often in recent days, the task, and its accompanying dramas, provided the main focus of the day, and, it is worth noting, these tasks are holding the days together in enabling some sort of interest sustaining a '&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;pre&lt;/span&gt;-booked' hour for the highlights show. Without the tasks, there would be very feeble pickings (except in Tina's nose, of course).&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;Tommy 'football is working class ballet' suddenly turned sullen and flouncy, in the dance rehearsals, whilst &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;Coolio&lt;/span&gt; continued his obsession with Michelle and Ben, but neither could detract from what was surely Michelle's finest hour to date. She found her niche and was simply outstanding in joyously leading the team with style and panache. We could see she was enjoying every second, and it was a moment when we were given a glance that this lady has genuine talent.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;So... we moved on to the token debacle. A cynical columnist (why are you pointing at me?) might suggest that the awarding of tokens and their subsequent withdrawal was all contrived to drive deeper divisions between the housemates.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;It worked.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;Whilst Terry more or less shrugged off the whole telling off and reporting back on his 'misdemeanour', it was a gorgeous moment seeing Tina 'ticked off' and her pompous bellowing deflated for a few moments.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;She slunk away back to the bedroom, where we were spared the next few moments in viewing terms, but I think we can safely assume that her nostrils took a real pounding.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="mailto:remotevision@gmail.com"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#ff0000;"&gt;remotevision@gmail.com&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30831139-6245144055808209004?l=remotevision.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30831139/posts/default/6245144055808209004'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30831139/posts/default/6245144055808209004'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://remotevision.blogspot.com/2009/01/token-victory.html' title='Token Victory'/><author><name>Terence</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14394053210334889811</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_g5oqfhP7Uj4/SWI5eUZlE9I/AAAAAAAAASU/h0v_L_ngTpU/S220/imdb.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_g5oqfhP7Uj4/SWuClVForoI/AAAAAAAAAUc/SOdooRr8XzE/s72-c/Football+Ballet.JPG' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30831139.post-4467687533028671956</id><published>2009-01-11T14:49:00.007Z</published><updated>2009-01-11T15:57:19.688Z</updated><title type='text'>The Kettle &amp; The Pot</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_g5oqfhP7Uj4/SWoJIqivxgI/AAAAAAAAAUU/nYahu6RBFvQ/s1600-h/Kettle.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5290050756763698690" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 200px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_g5oqfhP7Uj4/SWoJIqivxgI/AAAAAAAAAUU/nYahu6RBFvQ/s200/Kettle.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;strong&gt;CBB6 Day Nine&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Surely there has never been, in earlier celebrity versions of BB, such a fixation on the financial rewards that have tempted these 'personalities' into Elstree?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;During Mutya's rebellion, she fixated on her fee. "Take my f***ing money!", she cried, to nobody in particular. We can be in little doubt that any of our housemates are in there for the social experiment. Each move in each day, seems to have them making mental calculations of the value inherent in their actions.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Ulrika has made it clear that she is in there&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;purely to gain financial benefit for herself and her family. No shame in that of course, but there are few 'jobs' that any of use would undertake where we are clearly on the edge of meltdown.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Indeed, it is only about three weeks, but if we assume that Ulrika's reaction to being left in the house was genuine (and there is no evidence to the contrary), the question hangs in the air like a dark and menacing rain cloud.... Is it &lt;em&gt;really&lt;/em&gt; worth it?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;So fare thee well than, Lucy. A pleasant person, no doubt, but her nasal speaking mannerism will no longer be there to grate on our nerves, like the proverbial fingers scraping down a blackboard. If ever you find yourself in a stressful situation, Lucy may not be the best person to turn to for comfort.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;"You'll be fiiiiiinnnnnne...." she must have told Ulrika fifty times, as if repeating some mantra from a self-help manual. As she did this, she took to rubbing Ulrika's arm in the manner of a carpenter sanding down a table leg. It would be no surprise if Ulrika woke up on Saturday with bruises down her right arm.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;Perhaps we received a tiny little fragment of insight into Coolio's dodgy views of, and behaviour around, women. When Ulrika and Coolio were discussing childhood memories, Coolio revealed that his mother had shown quite considerable violence towards him, and we, as amateur analysts were left with an 'aha!' moment.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;Coolio refers to his remarks as 'spirited banter' and stated (in a negative connotation) that women expect to be treated as princesses. No Mr Coolio - just with respect, I reckon.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;Sigh... as much as it aches the soul to return to Tina Malone, currently all roads lead back to the loud Liverpudlian. "I'm not being selfish" she announced, and then proceeded to dominate the shopping list debate. Tina, did however, bring a few moments relief to poultry up and down the land when she bellowed that she "won't eat thighs". Well at least I assume she was referring to chickens and turkeys. "So long as there's cornflakes and toast", she exclaimed before stomping off for her eightieth cigarette of the day.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;In this rant, Tina also revealed that she anticipates being cast in 'Notting Hill 2'. Reports that Richard Curtis was seen throwing his computer and keyboard into a skip may have been exaggerated.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;Ever since man appeared on this planet, and managed to tame, or use, fire, a form of container has been used to heat water. The very word, 'kettle' derives from the Latin 'catillus', meaning 'cauldron'. Indeed, a kettle or cauldron has played a significant part in legend, with many historians believing that the Holy Grail of Celtic and Arthurian legend, was, perhaps, a cauldron, rather than the holy chalice that has made its way into more latter day beliefs.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;So it must remain a mystery of gargantuan proportions that Tina has thus far in her life, failed to grasp the knowledge, that today's 'high tech' devices, can not only boil water in a mere couple of minutes but (and wait for this bit Tina) you can &lt;em&gt;re-use&lt;/em&gt; the kettle and heat up more water! Indeed you can keep repeating this exercise until you have used up all the water on the planet.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;This lack of basic understanding of the whole concept of a kettle can surely be the only reason that she raved like a wailing banshee about Coolio actually using the kettle for that aforementioned two minutes to enable him to warm water to wash himself. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;Tina could pick a fight with herself in an empty room.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;remotevision@gmail.com&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30831139-4467687533028671956?l=remotevision.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30831139/posts/default/4467687533028671956'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30831139/posts/default/4467687533028671956'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://remotevision.blogspot.com/2009/01/kettle-pot.html' title='The Kettle &amp; The Pot'/><author><name>Terence</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14394053210334889811</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_g5oqfhP7Uj4/SWI5eUZlE9I/AAAAAAAAASU/h0v_L_ngTpU/S220/imdb.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_g5oqfhP7Uj4/SWoJIqivxgI/AAAAAAAAAUU/nYahu6RBFvQ/s72-c/Kettle.JPG' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30831139.post-9044181227052021683</id><published>2009-01-10T13:43:00.007Z</published><updated>2009-01-10T14:07:44.892Z</updated><title type='text'>Coolio &amp; Cicero</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_g5oqfhP7Uj4/SWimLw8dJgI/AAAAAAAAAT0/J8bKRAyi_ts/s1600-h/Torvill+Dean.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5289660483393889794" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 140px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 200px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_g5oqfhP7Uj4/SWimLw8dJgI/AAAAAAAAAT0/J8bKRAyi_ts/s200/Torvill+Dean.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;CBB6 Day Eight&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The paparazzi part of the convoluted task collapsed into a sobbing heap of nothingness.&lt;br /&gt;Little has ever evoked the warning sirens of the pitfalls of 'celebrity' than the knowledge that Lucy needed a magnifying glass to establish that one of the 'names in the crane', was none other than Nikki Grahame. Poor Nikki seemed utterly devastated that nobody recognised her as she drifted away below the horizon (well, below the tarpaulin anyway).&lt;br /&gt;As the crane rose, she had all the expectation of a member of the Royal Family, with all the self confidence that they have, as they emerge from the limousine and prepare to pull a cord, and unveil a plaque stating that this 'leisure centre' was opened by HRH Somebody-or-other, before the local hooligans turn it into the place where they congregate in the early evening, to sniff shoe polish and marker pens, and to write 'Jez 4 the Gooners 4evah' on the walls.&lt;br /&gt;As the crane lowered Nikki had more of the look of an extra who had once had a three second non-speaking part in the second series of the Royle Family.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Staying with the task for a moment (I apologise, I know it was arduous viewing), LaToya brought back memories of H out of Steps with her determined Jayne&lt;br /&gt;Torvill styled zeal with which she approached her ice skating bonanza. Tommy the Socialist though was less Christopher Dean, and more Christopher Robin.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When seeking inspiration for some philosophical reflections on life and its mysteries, Tina "get yer cheque, go 'ome" Malone never fails to deliver. Still demanding that she is at the very epicentre of all life in Elstree, the UK, and the infinity of the universe, Tina reassured us that she would never get to the point where she was annoying anyone. She would recognise it before anyone needed to point it out, and immediately desist from the behaviour or withdraw from the situation. How her colleagues kept from leaping on her and stuffing one of her over-sized curlers into her over-sized gob is a mystery that may well have sociologists scratching their heads in bewilderment, for generations to come.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Back in Ancient Rome, Cicero, the philosopher, studied the works of the old Greek thinkers and posited the theory that contempt for women is caused by an underlying fear. Misogyny, some may call it, but there are differences of opinion as to what exactly generates this fear. Is it an anxiety of rejection? Has the chap had some heartbreaking experience that caused this need to try and keep the woman 'in her place'?&lt;br /&gt;Coolio behaves oddly around women. It would take an army of analysts to propose a theory as to why he both can't bear to be more than an arms length away from one, yet then uses that closeness to make the woman feel as uncomfortable as he can manage, without actually breaking any laws.&lt;br /&gt;His fumbling around Mutya was awkward and embarrassing, and if he had behaved like that almost anywhere outside an air conditioned tv studio, it might not have been 'laughed off' (albeit uncomfortably) quite so readily.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;remotevision@gmail.com&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30831139-9044181227052021683?l=remotevision.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30831139/posts/default/9044181227052021683'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30831139/posts/default/9044181227052021683'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://remotevision.blogspot.com/2009/01/coolio-cicero.html' title='Coolio &amp; Cicero'/><author><name>Terence</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14394053210334889811</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_g5oqfhP7Uj4/SWI5eUZlE9I/AAAAAAAAASU/h0v_L_ngTpU/S220/imdb.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_g5oqfhP7Uj4/SWimLw8dJgI/AAAAAAAAAT0/J8bKRAyi_ts/s72-c/Torvill+Dean.JPG' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30831139.post-3608380624227732883</id><published>2009-01-09T19:12:00.009Z</published><updated>2009-01-10T14:13:33.070Z</updated><title type='text'>Tina &amp; The Face Cream</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_g5oqfhP7Uj4/SWeiRImKQaI/AAAAAAAAATc/MFiD-rPv8xg/s1600-h/Face+Cream.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5289374702618952098" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 200px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_g5oqfhP7Uj4/SWeiRImKQaI/AAAAAAAAATc/MFiD-rPv8xg/s200/Face+Cream.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;CBB6 Day Seven&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;So... Michael Barrymore's career summed up in a ten second sequence. No audience, Barrymore waving manically into the distance and nobody noticed. Ah, how soon we forget.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;Incidentally, which advert is scoring highest to gain the award for the worst commercial aired around the country during Celebrity Big Brother? I appreciate that the ads are different depending on the region, but I'm guessing we are all getting the cringe-making one for Norwich Union in which a bloke in a garage chucks a few items to another bloke, and then this second bloke 'hilariously' dons a wig that even Elton John would throw into the incinerator. It's irritation quotient is high because of the grating assumption that we are all so stupid that we are taken in by the context of bloke number one, not actually being a bloke at all, but a sort of representation of the concept of Norwich Union. This representation is not anything or anyone in the physical sense, but an emotion, a feeling, an abstract - called 'Happy'.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;No wonder they're changing the name of the company. Aviva is Hebrew and means 'Spring' or 'Renewal', which possibly has a bit more worldwide appeal to it than 'Norwich' which means 'second rate football team' apparently.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;Tina's appearance was much improved by the addition of a barrel of cream slapped on to her face. That must have been one hell of a blackhead.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;Tina continues to exhibit personality traits that, if she lived next door to you, would have you abandoning your house and rushing away to join a commune in the Hebrides. I suppose we all see ourselves as the centre of our own little worlds, but Tina sees herself at the very core of not only her own universe, but everyone else's universe too. Nothing happens, or at least holds any significance, until we hear Tina's take on it, and how it affects her. If one housemate says how he or she is feeling, this only has any importance for Tina in that it gives the opportunity for her to exclaim that her feelings are more intense, or more extreme, or of more depth.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;At one point today, I had to reach for my remote control, and check I hadn't accidentally hit the pause button, as Tina suddenly emerged from the Diary Room (swelled with pomp and grandiosity) and said in slow motion, "I....have....to....read....the....instructions....for....the....shopping....task...."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;I wouldn't want to behind her in the queue at Tesco. "I'll....just....get....my....clubcard....it's....in....my....purse....which....is....in....my&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;....handbag...."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;Tina's other significant moment of the day was when she furnished us with information that I really do wish she had kept to herself. It involved matters of a very personal nature related to her ummmm... reaction to seeing Chesney Hawkes. It proved to be another very good reason not to be behind her in the queue at the supermarket.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;In order to reinvent himself as a fine and upstanding member of both family life and the community, Coolio reassured LaToya that he was not one of these men who fathered lots of children by a host of different women. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;"I've got six kids but not by six mothers", he said.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;"Two?, asked Latoya, inquisitively.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;"Four", said our man outta Compton, with, I suspect, a slightly diminished air.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="COLOR: rgb(255,0,0)"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;remotevison@gmail.com&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:verdana;font-size:16;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30831139-3608380624227732883?l=remotevision.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30831139/posts/default/3608380624227732883'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30831139/posts/default/3608380624227732883'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://remotevision.blogspot.com/2009/01/day-seven-reviewed-tina-face-cream.html' title='Tina &amp; The Face Cream'/><author><name>Terence</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14394053210334889811</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_g5oqfhP7Uj4/SWI5eUZlE9I/AAAAAAAAASU/h0v_L_ngTpU/S220/imdb.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_g5oqfhP7Uj4/SWeiRImKQaI/AAAAAAAAATc/MFiD-rPv8xg/s72-c/Face+Cream.JPG' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30831139.post-2533225157733943456</id><published>2009-01-08T18:48:00.006Z</published><updated>2009-01-08T19:23:31.626Z</updated><title type='text'>Alpha Male</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_g5oqfhP7Uj4/SWZLrsyrvrI/AAAAAAAAATU/qihlOuaA294/s1600-h/Tommy+Sheridan.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 144px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_g5oqfhP7Uj4/SWZLrsyrvrI/AAAAAAAAATU/qihlOuaA294/s200/Tommy+Sheridan.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5288998026523426482" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;CBB6 Day Six&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;It's not the age difference, even though I was a little taken aback (thanks Wikipedia!) to learn that Oor Tam is only 44 years old. Plainly this political career and lifetime of bellowing socialist dogma has taken its toll. With Michelle a mere 17 years behind him, that is not the problem.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;The problem is the embarrassing fantasy, that anyone, even including a baying pack of red top media hounds, would ever have even dreamt in their wildest of nightmares, that we would 'misinterpret' a harmless shimmy around the kitchen as a &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;relationship&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;. Now this was a very odd moment in BB history, as it is rare for the camera to stay long enough with someone to give them time to ponder (great word, 'ponder') their stupidity.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;Here though, the camera lingered. Tommy is media-aware. He knew he had just committed a massive faux-pas; probably one of the greatest in the history of middle aged men trying to grasp on to the last wispy strands of their youth. He (as we have established already) pondered, and realisation hit him as if he had been on the end of a left hook from Joe Calzaghe. He tried to back track. He tried to recover the moment. But as anyone who has ever blurted something out, and then wished to turn back time, knows - you can't get the toothpaste back into the tube once it has been squeezed onto the toothbrush.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;Michelle was gracious. She could have hooted with laughter and said "You?...and me?.... waaaaahaaaaahaaaaa!" But no. She was kind, and rather sweet, even though you could read her mind, "I've got a right one here...."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;I'm not, I suspect, amongst the target audience, that A1 were set to appeal to in their glory days. So Ben Adams was unknown to me before he turned up at Elstree less than a week ago. Seems a pleasant bloke. I have never heard of anyone making a career of establishing relationships with girls by scouring Facebook, but Ben made it sound such an every day occurrence that I am wondering if I should log on immediately and get interacting. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;However, if like in Ben's experience, that involves sitting up at 3.00am with a stranger, trying to compose songs with the help of a dictaphone, I may stick with more traditional methods.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;It could be though, that Ben is setting the tone for the future. In years to come wedding speeches may include humorous stories of how the bride and groom met because of a misdirected Yahoo email, or how the happy couple got together after the bride saw a video on YouTube of her hubby falling off a skateboard and tumbling into a hedge.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;Perhaps couples may even link up by meeting on a reality tv message board or forum. No, that could never happen.... could it?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;remotevison@gmail.com&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30831139-2533225157733943456?l=remotevision.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30831139/posts/default/2533225157733943456'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30831139/posts/default/2533225157733943456'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://remotevision.blogspot.com/2009/01/alpha-male.html' title='Alpha Male'/><author><name>Terence</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14394053210334889811</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_g5oqfhP7Uj4/SWI5eUZlE9I/AAAAAAAAASU/h0v_L_ngTpU/S220/imdb.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_g5oqfhP7Uj4/SWZLrsyrvrI/AAAAAAAAATU/qihlOuaA294/s72-c/Tommy+Sheridan.JPG' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30831139.post-783348955551387201</id><published>2009-01-07T18:58:00.004Z</published><updated>2009-01-07T19:43:08.588Z</updated><title type='text'>Verne Bounces Back</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_g5oqfhP7Uj4/SWT9mw6udtI/AAAAAAAAAS0/FhxrvH_5pAk/s1600-h/DFS.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 140px; height: 102px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_g5oqfhP7Uj4/SWT9mw6udtI/AAAAAAAAAS0/FhxrvH_5pAk/s200/DFS.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5288630704847877842" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"&gt; CBB6 Day Five&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;Type Davina McCall into Google and you get 288,000 entries leaping back at you. I simply don't have time to complete a full analysis, but I wonder how many of those searches are innocent folk seeking information on Jack Nicholson, but ending up, by default with Davina. For surely there has been no greater impersonation (on this night of impersonations) than Davina's almost perfect rendition of Jack Nicholson as The Joker. That huge grin that covers the entire width of her mouth, and beyond. That manic stare. Her cheery agent, John Noel, need have no fear for her future after the BB circus stops for Davina - she has a guaranteed career in Batman movies.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;I forgot to check in the closing credits. Does somebody actually script these 'gags' for Davina? Her jokes went down as well as an infestation of bed bugs in a DFS store. Even though she was surrounded by a well briefed, and 'on message' audience (if you can call a spread out grouping of about thirty five hardy souls an audience), her 'jokes' bounced back and rolled across the studio floor like so much tangleweed. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;In some countries, religious folk look out for signs of a divine presence. One of the most common signs is when a statue, usually of a holy figure, starts weeping (presumably for the sins of the world and so on). &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;Maybe Davina has been sent to us as a modern day martyr, or even a full blown saint, because as soon as the director cued her in, her right eye began splashing out teardrops as if she had been linked up to Niagara Falls. No doubt as the show unfolded many of the viewing audience shed sympathetic tears of anguish as Davina threw us another rib tickling joke, only to have to cover herself with her trademark manic stare and catchphrase "Well anyway.... hahah....." followed by the mandatory three seconds of embarrassed silence as she battles within her self to retrieve the moment.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;Incidentally, are the only companies that wish to advertise during CBB, furniture stores, and comparison websites? Perhaps the demographic shows that the majority of the audience turn the tv off immediately after Davina's last gurn, and head for the internet so they can compare prices of mattresses and coffee tables.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;So...Verne recovered from the previous Shakespearean tragedy, and gave a heartfelt and moving tribute to Heath Ledger. It was a beautifully spoken account of his friendship with the late actor, and we'll forgive the Romeo &amp;amp; Juliet fiasco, if that's ok with you too.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;Further, in 'Verne news', the impersonate a housemate routine could have been a total wince-a-thon, but it worked out ok, and was particularly memorable for Verne's cheery version of Coolio, complete with inappropriate remarks.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;There was one moment when I hid behind the sofa, as I'm sure I heard Tina say she was going to explode, and, probably in the company of most viewers, I thought it would only be sensible to take cover as I suspect an exploding Tina would have comparable fallout to a nuclear attack. I figured it is only about a hundred miles from Elstree to my house, and I didn't want to take any rash chances.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;Oh - the nomination system was overcomplicated, and after votes and sub votes, we ended up with Lucy and Ulrika nominated. It was a delight to see the old "I'm delighted to be nominated" gambit used, particularly by Ulrika. This is the most familiar routine for long term BB viewers. Find yourself nominated. Feel a sense of anger, sadness and several blows to pride. Cover it up by pretending that you were hoping for the nomination and express unconvincing joy to the world.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;Put 'Ulrika Jonsson' into Google and you get 223,000 responses, not as many as Davina, and also we have to bear in mind that many of that 223,000 are possibly ex-husbands trying to find out where to send the child support.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;remotevison@gmail.com&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30831139-783348955551387201?l=remotevision.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30831139/posts/default/783348955551387201'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30831139/posts/default/783348955551387201'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://remotevision.blogspot.com/2009/01/verne-bounces-back.html' title='Verne Bounces Back'/><author><name>Terence</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14394053210334889811</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_g5oqfhP7Uj4/SWI5eUZlE9I/AAAAAAAAASU/h0v_L_ngTpU/S220/imdb.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_g5oqfhP7Uj4/SWT9mw6udtI/AAAAAAAAAS0/FhxrvH_5pAk/s72-c/DFS.JPG' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30831139.post-9003150556941130574</id><published>2009-01-06T19:03:00.009Z</published><updated>2009-01-10T14:08:33.793Z</updated><title type='text'>Wanna Be Startin' Somethin'</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_g5oqfhP7Uj4/SWOrtuIHirI/AAAAAAAAASs/x1ROfKPp6B0/s1600-h/Shrek.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5288259189427636914" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 190px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 200px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_g5oqfhP7Uj4/SWOrtuIHirI/AAAAAAAAASs/x1ROfKPp6B0/s200/Shrek.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;CBB6 Day Four&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;A short diversion, if you'll forgive me for about fifty words or so...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Whilst much of the Middle East is gravely concerned with survival in Gaza, anyone who stayed with Channel Four last night would have seen its voyeuristic cousin, Surviving Gazza, a horribly compelling, between the fingers viewing experience. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Whether 'tis nobler to suffer, or to be the close family of the sufferer could not be established as the main figure, Paul Gascoigne, was noticeable only for his absence, and thus we only heard second hand of his angst, and capacity for drawing disaster from triumph. What became clear to the viewer is that any set backs for the (very) well paid inhabitants of the BB House pale into insignificance to the daily troubles of many outside the confines of TV studios in Elstree.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Back to the business of the day:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Oh yeah - remember how everyone was going to chill? No bitterness and just talk things through? Uh-huh.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;Here's a curiosity. The more grouchy and &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 5px; webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 5px"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;irascible that Tina's comments become, so her face, and her body language, morph her already well-worn features into a facsimile of the sort of person who elbows you out of the way when the Tesco assistant marks down the doughnuts to half price.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 5px; webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 5px"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 5px; webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 5px"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Without the daily tasks, and their build up and subsequent fall-out, the highlights show would have very slim pickings indeed; but here we tasked again, and Terry had to once more weed out one poor soul, this time for being the 'least talented'. He was spoilt for choice with this lot.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 5px; webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 5px"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 5px; webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 5px"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;We began the talent contest with Coolio reprising ye olde Gangsters Paradise, but this proved to be just the &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="LINE-HEIGHT: 25px; webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 0px; webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 0px"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;amuse-bouche, before we even had the starter, as he was followed by a disastrous Shakespearean nightmare in which a sort of oral painting-by-numbers delivery collapsed under the rather basic premise that Verne did not know his lines, and did not wish to be prompted.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="LINE-HEIGHT: 25px"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Roll up Ulrika and her forgettable weather forecast and her cri de guerre of no regrets, and step aside please for Mutya, who has disappeared under the radar to date, but here proved she can sing in tune, even if she has little else to contribute. As so often in both versions of BB, the most outspoken and gregarious in the VT become overwhelmed by the reality of the in-house experience.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="LINE-HEIGHT: 25px"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Ben's performance will have contributed to his odds to win shortening dramatically, but Lucy, with her 'news in briefs' will find that her political speech will not have led to Gordon Brown shaking in his Mr Men pyjamas overnight. This was an under rehearsed car crash of a 'speech' that will finish off any hopes our aspiring Tory had, of even scraping a seat in her local parish council.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="LINE-HEIGHT: 25px"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="LINE-HEIGHT: 25px"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Michelle turned in a genuine 'showbiz performance', which clearly set Verne's blood racing and his eyes popping, but the mood soon darkened as the foreboding creased forehead of Tommy the Socialist told us all that America posed the biggest threat to security in the world. I half expected Tommy to rip his drab clothes off revealing the costume of 'Mr Angry', or at the very least to show that he was in fact George Galloway in disguise, but he rather tamely faded away and left the stage to LaToya.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="LINE-HEIGHT: 25px"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;The Jackson family connection was exploited one more time (won't be the last) and we had a short presentation of a sort of 'Michael Jackson-lite', with LaToya briefly trying to whip up some enthusiasm from this rather lacklustre audience of ten compadres.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="LINE-HEIGHT: 25px"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="LINE-HEIGHT: 25px"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;So Terry's decision was made fairly easy for him and Lucy, "a really lovely girl in every way... but...." , is nominated in this drawn out saga without foresight.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="LINE-HEIGHT: 25px"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="LINE-HEIGHT: 25px"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Finally, the Tina vs Coolio conflict is rather lop-sided as only Tina is in conflict. Ms Malone stated in all seriousness, that Coolio hands out compliments to all the ladies.... except her.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="LINE-HEIGHT: 25px"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;If you get to the point where Coolio's views or actions are important to your sense of well-being, then it may be time to re-evaluate your life. We could make a documentary about it all. Surviving Elstree is what we'll call it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="LINE-HEIGHT: 25px"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="LINE-HEIGHT: 25px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="COLOR: rgb(255,0,0)"&gt;remotevision@gmail.com&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30831139-9003150556941130574?l=remotevision.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30831139/posts/default/9003150556941130574'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30831139/posts/default/9003150556941130574'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://remotevision.blogspot.com/2009/01/wanna-be-startin-somethin.html' title='Wanna Be Startin&apos; Somethin&apos;'/><author><name>Terence</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14394053210334889811</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_g5oqfhP7Uj4/SWI5eUZlE9I/AAAAAAAAASU/h0v_L_ngTpU/S220/imdb.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_g5oqfhP7Uj4/SWOrtuIHirI/AAAAAAAAASs/x1ROfKPp6B0/s72-c/Shrek.JPG' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30831139.post-142934782097257056</id><published>2009-01-05T14:23:00.007Z</published><updated>2009-01-07T19:44:25.348Z</updated><title type='text'>Hats Off To Coolio</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_g5oqfhP7Uj4/SWIZWu-PJiI/AAAAAAAAASE/sIGiZjNPek4/s1600-h/Coolio.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 173px; height: 200px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_g5oqfhP7Uj4/SWIZWu-PJiI/AAAAAAAAASE/sIGiZjNPek4/s200/Coolio.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5287816790843270690" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;CBB6 Day Three&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;...or hats on to Coolio as he has yet to be seen without his often quite bizarre headgear. As he prowls around with his "just going out to explore the Antarctic" heavy duty furry hat, he has a more than passing similarity to a tawny owl, awaiting its moment to swoop down on its unwitting prey.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;But, thank heavens for Coolio, who (despite being told by Ulrika that his behaviour is reminiscent of her four year old child), has been saving these early days from the most rigid tedium. Indeed it has been easy to make a connection between the sponsor of CBB, and the dozy, sleepy, ambience of the show. Although we may all express a certain degree of gratitude if he saves us from his threat of washing intimate parts of his anatomy in the sink. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style=" ;font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style=" ;font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;Tina's effervescent and monotonous use of the 'f' word has cast her as this season's Danielle Lloyd, without the intellect of the former swain of Teddy Sheringham. Tina, in an absolute avalanche of four letter words, expressed the view that sometimes the Press get 'things' wrong. Surely not! What an insight into the world of celebrity.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style=" ;font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;Tina's conversation with LaToya was excruciating. The chat started in the kitchen area, and briefly, Latoya must have felt that she had a kinship with Ms Malone, as they exchanged horror stories related to former partners.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style=" ;font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;Cut to the smoking area, and the conversation continued. LaToya's doll-like facial  features dropped as Tina continually over-talked her, despite LaToya's keenness to establish a sort of rapport. It must be difficult for LaToya (or any of her brothers and sisters for that matter) as they appear to have been constantly 'betrayed' by chancers and parasites who have tried to establish a form of friendship, only to exploit any closeness that is found.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style=" ;font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;So when Tina said, "I can't believe I'm sitting here talking to a Jackson!", it killed the moment dead. LaToya must have heard this almost every day of her life, and how many conversations she must have strayed into, where the other party was just itching to ask questions about Michael, we can only guess.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style=" ;font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style=" ;font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;There was a 'task'. Oh yes. A 'task'. You know, the one they usually trot out about celebrities gauging their popularity in a sort of in-house league table of fame. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style=" ;font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;The production team have had three years to consider a new introductory quest since Chantelle took her place in the line-up, and Preston began to query her celebrity status. It didn't work very well then, and it worked not all this time around.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style=" ;font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;Terry Christian (who has been throwing in some magnificent one-liners which have flown &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;so&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt; over the heads of his colleagues that they went into orbit somewhere over Hertfordshire) was nominally in charge of the task, the purpose of which was to discover who had the most inflated ego. Tommy 'Socialist Sweatshirt' Sheridan immediately made himself a leading candidate when he decided to take over, with his foghorn voice insisting that they rank everyone alphabetically. There was no consultation and no 'voting' in this brave new world of Socialist Tommy.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style=" ;font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;The second part of this disastrous task involved Terry filming short bursts of nothingness to use in the closing credits of the episode. It had no purpose and no connection with the overall business of seeking the inflated ego for the nomination.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style=" ;font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;Terry diplomatically referred to the task as 'weird' before nominating Ulrika - that Brendan Behan snub was always going to come back and haunt her, as was the lack of acknowledgement of the Groucho Club reference on the first evening.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style=" ;font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style=" ;font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;So finally for today to Ulrika then; she continues to exhibit an odd combination of insight and tetchiness. She very uncomfortably referred, several times, to 'panic' and told us she had just experienced one of the longest days of her life.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style=" ;font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;I think we also, inadvertently received an inkling of the contract arrangements. Desperately indicating that she would love to be nominated and get the hell out of there, I think it is rather clear that the vast sums to be paid for participation are payable for whatever the length of stay, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;unless &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;the 'celebrity' walks out. So Ulrika is in this twilight zone of counting the thousands of pounds that are in some sort of holding escrow world, where she nearly has the fee in her grasp, yet she cannot leave without being pushed. No wonder she feels a sense of panic.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style=" ;font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0); "&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0); "&gt;remotevision@gmail.com&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30831139-142934782097257056?l=remotevision.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30831139/posts/default/142934782097257056'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30831139/posts/default/142934782097257056'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://remotevision.blogspot.com/2009/01/hats-off-to-coolio.html' title='Hats Off To Coolio'/><author><name>Terence</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14394053210334889811</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_g5oqfhP7Uj4/SWI5eUZlE9I/AAAAAAAAASU/h0v_L_ngTpU/S220/imdb.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_g5oqfhP7Uj4/SWIZWu-PJiI/AAAAAAAAASE/sIGiZjNPek4/s72-c/Coolio.JPG' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30831139.post-4749875970873012939</id><published>2009-01-04T08:18:00.004Z</published><updated>2009-01-04T09:15:37.351Z</updated><title type='text'>Peanut Butter Chicken Love</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_g5oqfhP7Uj4/SWB7O285c3I/AAAAAAAAAR8/s0HB4aL4iOw/s1600-h/KFC.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 160px; height: 200px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_g5oqfhP7Uj4/SWB7O285c3I/AAAAAAAAAR8/s0HB4aL4iOw/s200/KFC.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5287361457732285298" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;CBB6 Day Two&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;There is an increasing bewilderment surrounding LaToya, or '52 year old Latoya' as Marcus Bentley rather unsportingly referred to her. Drifting around in her pink pyjamas, she has both an air of poise and yet a strange sort of detachment. We were given an insight into what may be the key problem that she and her siblings have endured over the years, when she told us (twice) that "I'm not used to being with people outside my own family"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="  "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=" "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="  "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;Ex Boy Scout Coolio has quickly settled into the love god role, but, oddly, we learned that the last time he met Verne they had some sort of set-to. A rather unlikely scenario, which was somewhat brushed over when Mr Coolio suddenly promised his colleagues that he would cook them his signature dish - Peanut Butter Chicken Love.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=" "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;Quite what happens with the peanut butter, we are yet to learn, but I think that we can be sure of one thing. It is doubtful that the chicken shares the 'love' aspect, being an involuntary contributor to this food feast.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="  "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=" "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="  "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;Meanwhile, Tommy seemed shocked by the whole 'token for an hour in the company of a hair straightener' thing. Realistically, on a personal level, Tommy does not need to worry about such issues, as his bonce would require about a five second burst with a hair straightener, and he would be all done.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="  "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=" "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="  "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;Terry Christian seems rather likeable, with his 'civilian qualities' an' all. The problem with the 'here we go again' formatting of Big Brother was exposed again, when Michelle quickly guessed the 'King/Head of the House' gambit. Although Terry told us he has gained a new found respect for authority, he didn't impress Ulrika when he quoted Brendan Behan to the group. Ulrika veers between two personality traits - some insightful and intriguing reflections on life, and some sneering asides both to and about her BB chums. This may upset the chilled balance to which some of the housemates aspire. Coolio said he doesn't see any prospect of the traditional Big Brother fake/real dilemma emerging. Uh-huh Coolio, Uh-huh.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=" "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=" "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=" "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=" "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=" "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=" "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=" "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;L&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=" "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=" "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=" "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;et us return to the interaction between the enigmatic Coolio and the ladeees. His rather awkward chat up lines with LaToya were delivered as he strode around in small circles of about a yard in diameter. Perhaps this was meant to spin her dizzy with lurve, but it just left her blinking uncomprehendingly, in her pink jim-jams, which were strangely worn over her day clothes. Coolio told LaToya that he figured she is a very private person, a remark to which, subscribers to a certain adult magazine may find hard to agree. The poor fellow then dug himself deeper into this huge hole of awkwardness by revealing to the ever less interested Ms Jackson that he has the ummm.... adult... errrr.... functions of a 25 year old. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="  "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=" "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="  "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;Finally, today, we must also pay tribute to the charitable offer Coolio made to the female contingent of the House. As if he had transformed himself into a male Mother Theresa, he kindly offered to help the ladies unpack their underwear.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=" "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;"We'll give you a call" was the universal reply.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana; font-size: 16px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana; font-size: 16px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana; font-size: 16px;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;remotevision@gmail.com&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30831139-4749875970873012939?l=remotevision.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30831139/posts/default/4749875970873012939'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30831139/posts/default/4749875970873012939'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://remotevision.blogspot.com/2009/01/peanut-butter-chicken-love.html' title='Peanut Butter Chicken Love'/><author><name>Terence</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14394053210334889811</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_g5oqfhP7Uj4/SWI5eUZlE9I/AAAAAAAAASU/h0v_L_ngTpU/S220/imdb.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_g5oqfhP7Uj4/SWB7O285c3I/AAAAAAAAAR8/s0HB4aL4iOw/s72-c/KFC.JPG' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30831139.post-1959011811939674166</id><published>2009-01-03T09:45:00.002Z</published><updated>2009-01-03T10:31:31.062Z</updated><title type='text'>The thrill of the laminate</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_g5oqfhP7Uj4/SV80VdqGNsI/AAAAAAAAAR0/sP-AMSoUCCw/s1600-h/Banana+Splits.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5287002030899345090" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 120px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_g5oqfhP7Uj4/SV80VdqGNsI/AAAAAAAAAR0/sP-AMSoUCCw/s200/Banana+Splits.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;CBB6 Day One&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;In an ever changing world, it is reassuring that some things stay, eternally, the same. Look! There's Davina, and hark! Listen - still, a sentence begins, the volume is set to 'normal'... then, suddenly, a voice box explosion, and our ears recoil to the raw roar of the huge shoutiness, at the end of the gibbering wreck of the sentence. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;Oh yes, the serial killer smile remains in place, the manic grin as we totter to another commercial break, and this year, as a novelty, Davina produces for our delight, a coat made from the finest Yeti fur, and modelled on childhood favourites, The Banana Splits.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;To keep the essence of continuity, we have a tour of the House. Meet the new house, same as the old house.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;In traditional style, let us peruse the hapless 'housemates' as they weave their feckless way through the barrage of boos and awkward banners.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;1. LaToya, with her strangely stretched face, and what will undoubtedly become her catchphrase, a sort of demonic giggle that is difficult to translate into print, but here is a spirited attempt, "Urrheeeeheeeheee..." After about thirty seconds, La Jackson seemed thoroughly underwhelmed by her initial experience. It would be a surprise if she lasts the course.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;2. Mutya, she sounds like the title of a Chas &amp;amp; Dave song, but turns out to be an ex-SugarBabe, with tattoos here, there, and, indeed, everywhere - including her eyebrows. Mutya came up with the classical line that she was there to "learn more about myself", and also hoped there would be no bickering. Good luck with that one, Mutya.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;3. Verne, pretty much unfazed by the contrived hullabaloo; likely to be patronised by Davina for the length of his stay, and also likely to become immensely bored. Predicted to spend endless hours sitting and smiling; appeared to have an early obsession with the laminated card containing the 'rules'. Verne - there are no rules.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;4. Tommy Sheridan, Mr 'Conflict' and Mr 'Under Appeal' it would seem. "I am here under my terms". Believe it while you still can Oor Tam.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;5. Lucy Pinder, said to be a glamour model, and discovered on Bournemouth beach, which made her sound like an ancient fossil. In fact she seemed rather sweet and 'genuine'. Ha! How such a trait has unravelled before in these circumstances...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;6. Ben Adams, from A1, the boy band, not the major arterial route for northerners to escape to the south. Likely to get the Mum's vote, he had to be heartily shoved along by production assistants, in order to facilitate his progress towards the shaky double doors of the House.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;7. Tina Malone, she called herself "Tony Soprano in a frock", but made it sound like it was a line she used daily, as a sort of defence mechanism. Kindly, she gave us a list of her troubles, which included hormonal issues, bipolar disorder, and OCD (not the initials of a dictionary, but, in fact, obsessive-compulsive disorder), so uh-oh, trouble ahead. She appeared to have a dead badger strapped to her stomach area, and was a big hit with the baying crowd.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;8.Coolio, a bit odd, a bit full of himself. He told us he had won a lot of awards, he has strange hair, and he told us his alternative career would have been to have spent his time as a jailbird; so he'll feel quite at home.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;9. Michelle Heaton, from Liberty X, she told us she was married to Andy Scott Lee for 18 months (congratulations Michelle...). Heavily made up in her VT, and heavily booed on her way in. She was very nervous.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;10. Terry Christian, former flamboyant front man of the late night, post-pub, hooligan fest, that was 'The Word'. He seemed thin and trim, and told us everyone wants his gig and he has a love affair with Manchester. Says he is 'fireproof'. Don't play with any matches there Mr Christian.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;11. Ulrika-ka-ka, the four children by four fathers was mentioned early on. Her VT showed her to be prettier and softer faced these days. Terry Christian told her they had lunch in Grouchos many years ago, and she either did not hear, or chose not to hear, leaving the fireproof Mancunian aimlessly grinning in her shadow.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;Oh - here's Davina with some late news - there's going to be a 'secret room'! As Tony Hancock would have said, 'Well stone me!'.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;Next she'll be telling us there will be 'good and evil' and 'heaven and hell' splits in the House. How about a late celebrity arrival? Ye Gods! Come up with something new cantcha?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;a href="mailto:remotevision@gmail.com"&gt;remotevision@gmail.com&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30831139-1959011811939674166?l=remotevision.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30831139/posts/default/1959011811939674166'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30831139/posts/default/1959011811939674166'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://remotevision.blogspot.com/2009/01/thrill-of-laminate.html' title='The thrill of the laminate'/><author><name>Terence</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14394053210334889811</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_g5oqfhP7Uj4/SWI5eUZlE9I/AAAAAAAAASU/h0v_L_ngTpU/S220/imdb.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_g5oqfhP7Uj4/SV80VdqGNsI/AAAAAAAAAR0/sP-AMSoUCCw/s72-c/Banana+Splits.JPG' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30831139.post-5041743529731711338</id><published>2007-01-26T19:52:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-01-26T19:59:54.167Z</updated><title type='text'>the wisdom of jack</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_g5oqfhP7Uj4/RbpdhgjG6RI/AAAAAAAAAEI/Kl2SZlB1v3w/s1600-h/billie+jean.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_g5oqfhP7Uj4/RbpdhgjG6RI/AAAAAAAAAEI/Kl2SZlB1v3w/s200/billie+jean.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5024431164539463954" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;CBB5 Day Twenty-Two&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Deep in the heart of London SW1, halfway between Tate Britain and Scotland Yard, lies Horseferry Road, the home to our friends at Channel 4. It would be no surprise if we learned that CH4 executives had been out en masse flinging themselves under buses following the latest in a line of comedy of errors that has fated this latest (last?) series of CBB.&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;After all that has gone before, you would think that somebody or other in that Alice in Wonderland world of CH4 meejah would have owned the responsibility to make sure the last few days of this disaster would be trouble free.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;But no, even the phone vote for this week’s evictions fell foul of the most basic of mistakes, and so CH4 are forced to refund money, but yet again have blown the goodwill and belief of their viewers away.&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;There really is so little interaction between the housemates that the one hour highlights show seems to last for a week, as the merest glimmer of interest is stretched beyond endurance. &lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;Shilpa became so over exuberant that I thought she had discovered, stored in the biscuit tin, the world’s most precious jewels. She was almost hysterical. It transpired that it was a few flakes of snow that had raised her temperature to such heights that Cleo volunteered to go out and fill a cereal dish with soggy snow, for Shilpa to muse upon.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Gruesome Jo had, of course, to rain on the parade, and inform us all, in her gruff, rough manner, that ‘it ain’t snow’. She repeated this mantra in the style of a skanky kid taking pleasure in informing a bunch of five year olds that faeries don’t exist.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Jo has become the whiniest housemate in CBB history, and there is plenty of competition for that accolade. She whines about the food, her colleagues, and most of all, about the tasks. If I was in there, I think it would only be the daily tasks that would stop me from going stir crazy with the routine of it all.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Then the nominations, and inevitably, it was Jo who fell back on to the old, tried and trusted, ‘delighted to be nominated’ gambit. This is the traditional response from a needy inmate who wants to mask their insecurity, and does so by overcompensating in their response to nomination.&lt;/p&gt;      &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;Cleo, in the most patronising tone, told Jack – I will repeat this so you know it isn’t a typo – told &lt;i&gt;Jack &lt;/i&gt;that he has such wisdom about him. This is like popping over to see Saddam and remarking upon his humanitarian qualities. It’s like walking up to Tony Blair and telling him he is the greatest statesman we have ever known, and congratulating him on his foreign policies.&lt;br /&gt;Jack, the great intellectual. The Bertrand Russell of Borehamwood. It just doesn’t fit.&lt;/p&gt;        &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;H from Steps’ great quote of the day, to Jermaine: “Who was Billie Jean based on? Was it the tennis player?”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;Yes indeed, it must surely have been inspired by the 38 Grand Slam title winning Billie Jean Moffitt King, who in fact partnered Michael Jackson in winning the mixed doubles at Wimbledon over a record breaking five years in the early 1980s.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Hence the famous lyric:&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;“She told me her name was Billie Jean, as she volleyed an overhead smash past Evonne Goolagong.”&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; remotevision@gmail.com&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30831139-5041743529731711338?l=remotevision.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30831139/posts/default/5041743529731711338'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30831139/posts/default/5041743529731711338'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://remotevision.blogspot.com/2007/01/wisdom-of-jack.html' title='the wisdom of jack'/><author><name>Terence</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14394053210334889811</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_g5oqfhP7Uj4/SWI5eUZlE9I/AAAAAAAAASU/h0v_L_ngTpU/S220/imdb.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp0.blogger.com/_g5oqfhP7Uj4/RbpdhgjG6RI/AAAAAAAAAEI/Kl2SZlB1v3w/s72-c/billie+jean.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30831139.post-2727436769949830838</id><published>2007-01-25T18:31:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-01-25T19:41:32.991Z</updated><title type='text'>the showgirl shoes</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_g5oqfhP7Uj4/RbkGfAjG6QI/AAAAAAAAAD8/_acKTplY1WE/s1600-h/dancing.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_g5oqfhP7Uj4/RbkGfAjG6QI/AAAAAAAAAD8/_acKTplY1WE/s200/dancing.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5024053989101463810" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;CBB5 Day Twenty-One&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Such a day of culture in the Big Brother house. Danielle examining the metaphysical conundrum, 'is a potato a vegetable?'. A question that would have  perplexed the combined great minds of the Ancient Greek philosophers&lt;/span&gt;. In the great &lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;schools of Athens, in  the Lyceum and the Academy, the debate might have raged - why are we here? what does it all mean? is a potato a vegetable?&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sadly, as the potato was an unknown beast, outside of America, until a couple of thousand years later, those great philosophers did not have a chance to ponder such a matter.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dirk, in noting Danielle's endless capacity for finding a use for the 'f' word at least once in each sentence she splutters upon us, referred to the paradox of Danielle's deployment of her favourite adjective, and the notion that she comes from the country that 'gave us Shakespeare'.&lt;br /&gt;Danielle, of course, is more like a character from Geoffrey Chaucer, Shakespeare's most notable predecessor in English literature. Ms Lloyd's agent should be seeking casting auditions for her client in the very next available production of The Canterbury Tales. She would be a certainty for the role of Alison in the Miller's Tale.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Away from these loftier notions, in the diary room, Jack blurted out that sitting in that weird chair was "like being arrested". He was quick to reassure us that he has never actually been arrested, and thus, his comparison was based on a sort of speculative fantasy. Of course.&lt;br /&gt;There has been much relief the length and breadth of the nation now that we have discovered that Jack has not been inflicted with some terrible disease that left him without the power of speech and, indeed, the power of thought. We now know that there is at least some intellectual light shining inside his bonce, as he has been heard to mumble a few words here and there. A few of these words even had more than one syllable.&lt;br /&gt;Though not many.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you had asked every CBB5 viewer what 'prize' Jermaine would choose, given a free choice as a reward for Shilpa passing some rather badly produced quiz, I doubt that even one of them would have predicted Jermaine would have picked as his great trophy, the shoes that he wore, the previous day, in the Scissor Sisters dance routine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jermaine has, I suspect, rather a wicked sense of humour beneath that defensive wall he hides behind. He became ever more animated and desperate as the possibility of owning those shoes seemed to fade away as Shilpa stumbled over a couple of questions. Then, such relief for our footwear obsessed buccaneer, as Shilpa grabbed at the right answer, when asked the final question.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"You'll never forget this show... every time you put on those shoes", said Dirk in his grumpy, pessimistic view of the whole CBB experience.&lt;br /&gt;Jermaine has coped, in a quiet and dignified way, with everything this last twenty-one days has sent his way.&lt;br /&gt;I rather like the fellow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;remotevision@gmail.com&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30831139-2727436769949830838?l=remotevision.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30831139/posts/default/2727436769949830838'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30831139/posts/default/2727436769949830838'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://remotevision.blogspot.com/2007/01/showgirl-shoes.html' title='the showgirl shoes'/><author><name>Terence</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14394053210334889811</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_g5oqfhP7Uj4/SWI5eUZlE9I/AAAAAAAAASU/h0v_L_ngTpU/S220/imdb.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp1.blogger.com/_g5oqfhP7Uj4/RbkGfAjG6QI/AAAAAAAAAD8/_acKTplY1WE/s72-c/dancing.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30831139.post-3449401806667203445</id><published>2007-01-24T21:10:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-01-24T22:00:52.468Z</updated><title type='text'>the washing up brothers</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_g5oqfhP7Uj4/RbfL4gjG6PI/AAAAAAAAADw/whlliACE1OM/s1600-h/washing+up.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_g5oqfhP7Uj4/RbfL4gjG6PI/AAAAAAAAADw/whlliACE1OM/s200/washing+up.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5023708081025378546" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;CBB5 Day Twenty&lt;/span&gt;   &lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You know how we keep reading in the newspapers about low-budget satnav systems sending their unwitting owners into rivers and over cliffs?* This is rather the stage we have come to now with CBB5. The inmates are being led to a kind of celebrity oblivion, with no alternative routes mapped, and no warning signs along the way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jo has now revealed a third hobby, to add to her other two - bunging ten pence pieces into fruit machines in Essex amusement arcades, and nicking toilet rolls from restaurant bathrooms. This new hobby is biting her fingernails until she reaches her elbows, whilst continually speculating about 'a big news story outside'. My! She must be psychic... or burdened with a guilty concern regarding her behaviour which she continues to be unable to contain.&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jo is forging ahead with her craving for turning her ire to grumpy Dirk. She said, "He's got an attitude problem... miserable, twisted, bitter old man." A psychologist may consider that she was reflecting upon her own personality and transferring her self-analysis towards Dirk. Except for the 'old man' bit obviously. Hmmm... I don't know though....&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;H from Steps (how he must hate that description!) in his alarming singlet (he looks like a P.E. teacher) tells us that "nobody understands what we're going through" describing it as if the housemates have been transported back to 19th century Crimea and have ridden with the Cavalry in the Charge of the Light Brigade, rather than sitting around in an air-conditioned tv studio being fed chocolate cake and ice cream.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;"Theirs not to reason why / Theirs but to butter some toast", as Alfred, Lord Tennyson nearly said.&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;H, though, loves the tasks, in a sort of masochistic, ultra-serious fashion. The Scissor Sisters routine saw H once again bashfully putting himself in the role of technical director. He seemed to be visualising himself directing Darcy Bussell at the Royal Ballet, rather than leading a geezer from the A Team, and Jade Goody's squeeze, through a nightmarish piece of campery, in which Cleo had the most amazingly fixed smile since Tony Blair addressed the Women's Institute.&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;From the Scissor Sisters, let us consider Jermaine &amp; Dirk, the Washing Up Brothers. It's notable that in most incarnations of BB, the majority of the group assume the role of layabouts, whilst the poor soul(s) who then try and restore order to the kitchen carnage get nominated, for being 'too fussy'.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;How long it would take for Jack, Jo &amp;amp; Danielle to end up licking food directly out of saucepans because there are no clean plates, knives or forks left, is open to debate, but I don't think I would rush to take up an invite to pop round for Sunday lunch at Jo's gaffe.&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;"When we on simple rations sup&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-family:verdana;" &gt;&lt;br /&gt;How easy is the washing up!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-family:verdana;" &gt;But heavy feeding complicates&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-family:verdana;" &gt;&lt;br /&gt;The task by soiling many plates."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Christopher Morley 2001&lt;/span&gt;   &lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*I may have been exaggerating there.&lt;/span&gt;   &lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);font-family:verdana;" &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;remotevision@gmail.com&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30831139-3449401806667203445?l=remotevision.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30831139/posts/default/3449401806667203445'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30831139/posts/default/3449401806667203445'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://remotevision.blogspot.com/2007/01/washing-up-brothers.html' title='the washing up brothers'/><author><name>Terence</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14394053210334889811</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_g5oqfhP7Uj4/SWI5eUZlE9I/AAAAAAAAASU/h0v_L_ngTpU/S220/imdb.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp1.blogger.com/_g5oqfhP7Uj4/RbfL4gjG6PI/AAAAAAAAADw/whlliACE1OM/s72-c/washing+up.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30831139.post-1068892056392185261</id><published>2007-01-23T18:24:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-01-23T19:05:10.428Z</updated><title type='text'>the ride of the valkyries</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_g5oqfhP7Uj4/RbZcJgjG6OI/AAAAAAAAADk/ch8782mN31w/s1600-h/Apocalype_Now_Huey.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_g5oqfhP7Uj4/RbZcJgjG6OI/AAAAAAAAADk/ch8782mN31w/s200/Apocalype_Now_Huey.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5023303752804133090" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;CBB5 Day Nineteen&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Rather in the manner of Dorset folk plundering the beach at&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Branscombe and making off with their booty, CBB continues to scavenge for enough material to fill a one hour highlights show. I suspect the BB production team have legged it down to the West Country and lifted one of those barrels that washed up on the Dorset coast, as I think I hear the sound of the bottom of a barrel being scraped in rather a feverish frenzy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dirk "don't touch me!" Benedict is in the diary room, declaring that Cleo 'crossed the line'. He delivered this speech in the style of Robert Duvall as Lt Kilgore in Apocalypse Now. It was a disappointment that Dirk didn't go on to tell us that he loves the smell of napalm in the morning.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Meanwhile, we had another weak task, which didn't work out at all well either for the viewers or the participants.&lt;br /&gt;H from Steps approaches every task like he is about to appear in the Royal Command Performance at the London Palladium, rather than (in this case) whilst sitting in an uncomfortable chair in a room measuring about six feet by six feet.&lt;br /&gt;Cleo goes even further, treating the whole affair like a life or death situation. The previous day's excruciating costume drama did not prevent Cleo spending several hours preparing for another dire exhibition in which, acting out some awful monologue that would have seemed out of vogue even in the era of Joyce Grenfell, poor Cleo suffered the worst fate for a 'comedian' of dying, theatrically speaking, to a great roaring void of silence.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The judgement of whether the housemates had passed the task, or not, was clearly somewhat arbitrary. Jo, the Snigger Queen with the Dracula fangs, was lauded for creating a 'joke' involving a camel and its hump, whilst Danielle failed, attempting humour by constructing a simple mirror image of herself.&lt;br /&gt;Danielle has some sort of tripwire in her brain that compels her to utter the two words, "Teddy Sheringham", at least once each hour.&lt;br /&gt;Whether this is pleasing to the ageless West Ham maestro, we can only conjecture, but I imagine that warming up, running up and down the touchline, at the moment, may not be the most pleasurable experience for the Hammer wearing the number eight shirt.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Oh... Teddy, Teddy....."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;remotevision@gmail.com&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30831139-1068892056392185261?l=remotevision.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30831139/posts/default/1068892056392185261'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30831139/posts/default/1068892056392185261'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://remotevision.blogspot.com/2007/01/ride-of-valkyries.html' title='the ride of the valkyries'/><author><name>Terence</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14394053210334889811</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_g5oqfhP7Uj4/SWI5eUZlE9I/AAAAAAAAASU/h0v_L_ngTpU/S220/imdb.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp0.blogger.com/_g5oqfhP7Uj4/RbZcJgjG6OI/AAAAAAAAADk/ch8782mN31w/s72-c/Apocalype_Now_Huey.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30831139.post-2984578719356023513</id><published>2007-01-22T20:10:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-01-22T20:52:13.779Z</updated><title type='text'>the fly</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_g5oqfhP7Uj4/RbUjFAjG6NI/AAAAAAAAADY/M0G1GvEq6V4/s1600-h/Fly_poster.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_g5oqfhP7Uj4/RbUjFAjG6NI/AAAAAAAAADY/M0G1GvEq6V4/s200/Fly_poster.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5022959528355227858" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;CBB5 Day Eighteen&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Twenty&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;years ago, Jeff Goldblum starred in the movie, 'The Fly', in which he played Seth Brundle, a loopy scientist who teleports himself hither and thither, and due to an accidental fusion with a housefly, ends up undergoing some rather grim adventures.&lt;br /&gt;If there is ever a danger of a re-make, I have the natural successor to Goldblum for the role...&lt;br /&gt;Step into the spotlight please, Ms Shilpa Shetty. With her penchant for wearing monster 'Jackie Onassis' shades for most of her waking hours, Ms Shetty unfortunately bears the appearance of a (very pretty) human insect. Beware, if Shilpa ever invites you to join her in her telepod.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Whether it has become a conscious decision for several housemates to follow Jermaine's lead in BB fashion to wear shades, indoors, in the middle of winter, is open to conjecture, but it is sure having an impact on non-verbal communication.&lt;br /&gt;However, Cleo more than compensated for this, with her, frankly, rather weird decision to unaccountably audition for a role in some sort of fourth division Catherine Tate style characterisation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This was an awful, awful, moment of embarrassing television. With Dirk hating every second of the 'joke', Cleo followed the poor fellow around, imposing this dreadful piece of kindergarten acting onto Dirk in a cringingly physical manner.&lt;br /&gt;Dirk seems to be a very morose man. Life appears to be something of a trial for him, and his grumpy view of the world was not improved by this peculiar and grotesque incident.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Unaware of the whole bullying furore outside the House (or at least the depth of it), it is sad indeed to see the inmates now simply moving on from Shilpa to Dirk as the focus of their 'Lord Of The Flies' target, with Cleo, unaccountably as the replacement leader following Jade's departure.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Quite why Cleo has transformed herself overnight from the 'voice of common sense' to this dreadful, baying, hellcat is impossible to answer, unless, whilst we slept, Shilpa dragged her into a 'Fly' teleport, and fused her with Jackiey, and Tubbs from The League of Gentlemen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So we have Cleo in the diary room, noting that Dirk "could crack... we can play on that."&lt;br /&gt;Inevitably, Jo is clamouring to join in, and after telling us about her previously unknown second hobby - this time, stealing from restaurant bathrooms - she said that Dirk's mood of gloom would make her want to, "do it more... I want to see him crack".&lt;br /&gt;Cleo responded that they must take the "road where we aren't to blame. It will crack anyway. It might just take a day or two longer."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ain't humanity a wonderful thing? And do you know the worst of it? The very worst thing?&lt;br /&gt;Shilpa was joining in.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;remotevision@gmail.com&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30831139-2984578719356023513?l=remotevision.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30831139/posts/default/2984578719356023513'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30831139/posts/default/2984578719356023513'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://remotevision.blogspot.com/2007/01/fly.html' title='the fly'/><author><name>Terence</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14394053210334889811</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_g5oqfhP7Uj4/SWI5eUZlE9I/AAAAAAAAASU/h0v_L_ngTpU/S220/imdb.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp1.blogger.com/_g5oqfhP7Uj4/RbUjFAjG6NI/AAAAAAAAADY/M0G1GvEq6V4/s72-c/Fly_poster.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30831139.post-9101391811434540323</id><published>2007-01-21T18:34:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-01-21T19:17:45.204Z</updated><title type='text'>the cartoon phase</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_g5oqfhP7Uj4/RbO76AjG6MI/AAAAAAAAADM/DoNbb1CpZus/s1600-h/wacky+races.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_g5oqfhP7Uj4/RbO76AjG6MI/AAAAAAAAADM/DoNbb1CpZus/s200/wacky+races.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5022564614702295234" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;CBB5 Day Seventeen&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Who would ever thought we could find a common link between Jade and the pin-up of the Premiership Football coaches?&lt;br /&gt;Yet today, after her hand-wringing interview in the News of the World, Jade Goody finds herself in the same position as José Mourinho's current Chelsea side - no defence...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Reflecting back on the insubstantial eviction on Friday, it was very helpful of Davina, the new Professor Emeritus of International Languages at the University of Elstree, to draw a link between 'democracy', and viewers phoning in to evict a celebrity from the back-end of a television studio complex in Hertfordshire.&lt;br /&gt;This, of course, must have been what Aristotle was musing upon as he studied under Plato in Ancient Greece.&lt;br /&gt;In his works on Metaphysics, Aristotle tried to unravel the mystery of the unity of beings. He would have had his work cut out in the Big Brother House.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The house has moved in from its weird Eraserhead era, to a more bizarre, surreal cartoon phase. The inmates have evolved into characters form the 1970s tea-time favourite, Wacky Races.&lt;br /&gt;With Shilpa as Penelope Pitstop. Penelope would sometimes antagonise and alarm the other racers as she put on her make-up during the race, and her car (the Compact Pussycat no less!) had been adapted to cater for all her grooming needs.&lt;br /&gt;H from Steps is a sort of camp Peter Perfect and Jo &amp; Danielle are the Gruesome Twosome in the Creepy Coupé.&lt;br /&gt;...and although it's typecasting, how could we not have Jack as Muttley, and Dirk as Dick Dastardly?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was looking at the description of Wacky Races at the Internet Movie Database. It says, "The rules are extremely lax and allow for... a wide range of tactics". There we are - an ideal fit for BB!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;remotevision@gmail.com&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30831139-9101391811434540323?l=remotevision.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30831139/posts/default/9101391811434540323'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30831139/posts/default/9101391811434540323'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://remotevision.blogspot.com/2007/01/cartoon-phase.html' title='the cartoon phase'/><author><name>Terence</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14394053210334889811</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_g5oqfhP7Uj4/SWI5eUZlE9I/AAAAAAAAASU/h0v_L_ngTpU/S220/imdb.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp3.blogger.com/_g5oqfhP7Uj4/RbO76AjG6MI/AAAAAAAAADM/DoNbb1CpZus/s72-c/wacky+races.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30831139.post-760773652556503843</id><published>2007-01-20T07:36:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-01-20T08:11:05.841Z</updated><title type='text'>the conspiracy theory</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_g5oqfhP7Uj4/RbHOSgjG6LI/AAAAAAAAADA/bnRBwJxCykI/s1600-h/NOTW.jpeg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_g5oqfhP7Uj4/RbHOSgjG6LI/AAAAAAAAADA/bnRBwJxCykI/s200/NOTW.jpeg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5022021876864968882" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;CBB5 Day Sixteen&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Unlike Jack and H from Steps seeking to find Norfolk on the map, we find ourselves seeing the world of CBB in crystal clear fashion. I can see clearly now the reign (of Jade) has gone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Let us muse upon a conspiracy for a moment...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Who looks after Jade's 'career'?&lt;br /&gt;While we're about it, who looks after Davina McCall, Russell Brand and Dermot O'Leary (and Chantelle Houghton too, for good measure)?&lt;br /&gt;Just a doggone moment - they are all managed by the same company! Step forward into the spotlight please, John Noel Management.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Is it too big a leap to consider that this may be the fundamental reason why Jade was briefed so succinctly by the producers of CBB, in order that she could be led into a vague sort of apology, and thus redemption, prior to being hoofed out?&lt;br /&gt;Don't let us ever think for one moment, that this whole shebang doesn't work to a script. The behaviour is manipulated and then packaged to run to the pre-ordained conclusion. Shilpa, too, was led down the same path, and to this day is still unaware of what was said and implied, out of her earshot.&lt;br /&gt;However, Shilpa is decent and well-mannered, and her instinct would always be to overcome the conflict and seek resolution, when it is offered.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yet we should not automatically follow down the expected route of demonising Jade (see David Beckham 1998 for the template). Jade is not stupid at all. As an example, she cottoned oh so quickly to the reality of what this episode could mean for her future. Wiping her nose on her sleeve, she wailed that she had so much to lose, and dreamed up a line made for headlines by noting that this was the programme that made her and now was going to break her.&lt;br /&gt;She is not articulate, nor is she very well educated in the formal sense, and she has clearly had a troubled life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jade has issues with anger, certainly. She relishes, at times, conflict, beyond the scope that is considered normal. Indeed she seeks it out. She appears to exhibit bullying behaviour and the comments that have been highlighted could be deemed to have a 'racial', in Jade's own word, aspect to them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;However, we are not defined solely by two examples of our behaviour. For Jade can also be kind and look for the best in people. She clearly dotes on her children, and, touchingly, has a very well balanced view of her mother, treating her with respect and love, yet fully understanding her mother's issues, and, indeed, the impact those issues have had on Jade herself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I won't be sucked in by the "I've learned my lesson", £100,000 interview being lined up by tomorrow's News Of The World, but nor will I believe we can define the whole person by a few day's worth of blisteringly bad behaviour.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;remotevision@gmail.com&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30831139-760773652556503843?l=remotevision.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30831139/posts/default/760773652556503843'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30831139/posts/default/760773652556503843'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://remotevision.blogspot.com/2007/01/conspiracy-theory.html' title='the conspiracy theory'/><author><name>Terence</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14394053210334889811</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_g5oqfhP7Uj4/SWI5eUZlE9I/AAAAAAAAASU/h0v_L_ngTpU/S220/imdb.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp3.blogger.com/_g5oqfhP7Uj4/RbHOSgjG6LI/AAAAAAAAADA/bnRBwJxCykI/s72-c/NOTW.jpeg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30831139.post-1492826989657412848</id><published>2007-01-19T18:15:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-01-19T18:22:29.148Z</updated><title type='text'>the ordinary jo</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_g5oqfhP7Uj4/RbELvwjG6KI/AAAAAAAAAC0/gG4UeQk7W5Q/s1600-h/Malory+Towers.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_g5oqfhP7Uj4/RbELvwjG6KI/AAAAAAAAAC0/gG4UeQk7W5Q/s200/Malory+Towers.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5021807974608726178" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;CBB5 Day Fifteen&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She’s an enigma, that Jo O’Meara. With her robust face that seems to have aged twenty years in the short time since her S Club excursion, and her poor grasp of meteorological conditions, and the calendar.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jo to Jermaine, “Usually it snows just before Christmas – around now…”&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Perhaps she is using the Coptic calendar. &lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So what do we know of this Joanne Valda O'Meara? Well we know that her hobby is playing the slot machines in arcades close to her Essex home, and we know that her solo career fizzled out with her first single failing to bother the charts.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;When the bookies published their first list of odds, immediately after the housemates had tumbled into the house (doesn’t that seem like an age ago now?), Jo was the favourite to win the thing.&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How life can change for today’s outspoken celebrity, when they are under the gaze of dozens of cameras and, perhaps more importantly, within the range of as many microphones.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Jo’s part in the whole baiting of Shilpa is, perhaps, more disturbing than that of her two cohorts. She is not only older (not always a guarantee of wisdom, I agree), but has seen more of the world, and has more life experience than the disturbed Jade, and the uneducated, and woefully immature, Danielle. &lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jo’s sniggering behind a cushion, and raucous laughter in the face of the bewildered Shilpa, reminded me of Gwendoline Mary Lacey, one of the sillier schoolgirls of Malory Towers, from Enid Blyton’s dream-like realm.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Jo is one of life’s followers. Unlikely to ever suggest a late night feast in the dorm, but happy to smirk, and fan the flames of discord as her offensive and ignorant friends needle the ‘foreigner’. &lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Joanne would have felt very much at home in the world of Enid Blyton, with its 1950s stereotypes - rough townie types against the educated, middle/upper classes who lived in the big houses on the edge of town.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;I have little interest in the career of Jo O’Meara when she leaves the house and stumbles into the mess her ignoramus behaviour has created.&lt;br /&gt;I ask only one thing of the increasingly inarticulate and fumbling Davina:&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Please don’t even dream of spitting out your normal closing line, “You’ve been a wonderful housemate!”&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Because she hasn’t been.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;remotevision@gmail.com&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30831139-1492826989657412848?l=remotevision.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30831139/posts/default/1492826989657412848'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30831139/posts/default/1492826989657412848'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://remotevision.blogspot.com/2007/01/ordinary-jo.html' title='the ordinary jo'/><author><name>Terence</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14394053210334889811</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_g5oqfhP7Uj4/SWI5eUZlE9I/AAAAAAAAASU/h0v_L_ngTpU/S220/imdb.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp0.blogger.com/_g5oqfhP7Uj4/RbELvwjG6KI/AAAAAAAAAC0/gG4UeQk7W5Q/s72-c/Malory+Towers.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30831139.post-8570313709191864592</id><published>2007-01-18T20:30:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-01-18T20:56:49.116Z</updated><title type='text'>the oxo cube</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_g5oqfhP7Uj4/Ra_e2wjG6JI/AAAAAAAAACo/MTJn3t5Y5S4/s1600-h/oxo-chicken.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_g5oqfhP7Uj4/Ra_e2wjG6JI/AAAAAAAAACo/MTJn3t5Y5S4/s200/oxo-chicken.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5021477141867849874" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;CBB5 Day Fourteen&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Never has the saying 'money talks' been more apposite than today. With the news that Charles Dunstone's Carphone Warehouse is withdrawing its sponsorship from this whole BB debacle, we are able to deduce some important implications.&lt;br /&gt;This action gives credibility to the concerns of all those who have turned OFCOM's post room and email inbox into a deluge of complaints, for the only language that is ultimately understood by commercial media outlets (in this case CH4) is that of financial Talk Talk.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We can be fairly sure that this afternoon's private coaching of Jade (in the diary room) was a panicky measure designed to save this grim series from (in media terms) an abject catastrophe. For surely, the next big hit, looming over the horizon, was/is the cancellation of the commercials betwixt and around CBB. If the major companies (and Ocean Finance...of course...) withdrew the revenue stream from this misadventure, then not only would CH4 be taking a beating financially, but we can be certain major heads would roll.&lt;br /&gt;Nothing is more likely to turn the heads of Programme Controllers and Chief Executives than the possibility of a P45 being delivered with the afternoon tea and digestives.&lt;br /&gt;Hence the 'grooming' of Jade towards redemption, and the encouragement to Shilpa to deny any racism. Shilpa, of course, has not seen and heard what we have seen and heard.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Direct quotes from the grotesque Danielle during Day Fourteen:&lt;br /&gt;After the argument, "That was f***ing fantastic. I loved it."&lt;br /&gt;"I think she should f*** off home."&lt;br /&gt;"She can't even speak English properly anyway."&lt;br /&gt;To Jade, "I think your mum would have been proud of you."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Of course, Danielle has not only been saving up her stupidity to fire at Shilpa. When she learned that the vacant Jack had been detained in the diary room to resolve the shopping list, she asked Jade, "Can he read?"&lt;br /&gt;Which in fact, may have been a question on the lips of many, but social etiquette would normally stop us blurting out such an indiscreet notion.&lt;br /&gt;Danielle, though, has no such restraints.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So the dark, brooding, menacing air continues to congeal in the atmosphere in a small part of Borehamwood. I suspect that if this nightmare of a 'show' limps its way to the full length of Lord knows how many days, it will go down in the annals of broadcasting as one of the most ill-advised, poorly produced, and abysmally managed calamities ever staged.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Your claim to fame is this. Good for you!"&lt;br /&gt;Shilpa Shetty. January 2007.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;remotevision@gmail.com&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30831139-8570313709191864592?l=remotevision.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30831139/posts/default/8570313709191864592'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30831139/posts/default/8570313709191864592'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://remotevision.blogspot.com/2007/01/oxo-cube.html' title='the oxo cube'/><author><name>Terence</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14394053210334889811</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_g5oqfhP7Uj4/SWI5eUZlE9I/AAAAAAAAASU/h0v_L_ngTpU/S220/imdb.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp2.blogger.com/_g5oqfhP7Uj4/Ra_e2wjG6JI/AAAAAAAAACo/MTJn3t5Y5S4/s72-c/oxo-chicken.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30831139.post-2779036916019607759</id><published>2007-01-17T18:58:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-01-17T19:39:55.878Z</updated><title type='text'>the witches of primark</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_g5oqfhP7Uj4/Ra56rQjG6II/AAAAAAAAACc/CsHYLoS-nx4/s1600-h/Pam+St+Clement.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_g5oqfhP7Uj4/Ra56rQjG6II/AAAAAAAAACc/CsHYLoS-nx4/s200/Pam+St+Clement.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5021085518159865986" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;CBB5 Day Thirteen&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"No overt racial abuse" says CH4's carefully worded statement. Let's be crystal clear what they mean there. They mean that the bullies have not (as is common in this type of behaviour) stood before Shilpa and expressed their neanderthal theories to her face.&lt;br /&gt;In fact, Danielle (allegedly, the 'intelligent' one) told Shilpa&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;that&lt;/span&gt;, &lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;"No-one's got any bad feelings against you"&lt;br /&gt;Yeah, right.&lt;br /&gt;The opposite of overt is 'covert' - meaning, covered, hidden, concealed. Sadly CH4 did not find it within themselves to add to their limp statement that there has, however, been covert racist (and overt bullying) behaviour.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I haven't bitched about no-one" says Danielle in her 'intelligent' double-negative way. Yet, through it all, the sheer decency of Shilpa shines on, even as Jade felt the need to relate what she clearly felt was a hilarious anecdote about the unlikely dream she alleged had drifted through her brain the previous night.&lt;br /&gt;In this dream, Jade had become involved in a sort of can-can styled kicking fight with Shilpa (surprise!). Whilst one can easily imagine Jade in such a situation, the very thought of Shilpa putting on a pair of Doctor Martens and having a good boot at Jade stretches the imagination one step too far.&lt;br /&gt;However, although I would never encourage violence, a small part of me would rather welcome the sight of Shilpa giving Jade a swift kick up the bum.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Meanwhile, the increasingly unlikeable Jo had a dramatic panic attack. Never a pleasant experience, but it was incredible how half a dozen 'housemates' immediately made a frightening situation much worse for the former S Clubber by surrounding her, closing her in to exacerbate her claustrophobia, and fussing about waving laminated sheets at her and generally adding to the degrees of panic already shimmering through her nerve endings.&lt;br /&gt;It is unfortunate that the last couple of years ('the post S Club period' as it shall be known to historians) have not been kind to Jo. She has rather a 'hard as nails' type face, in the form of the Pam St Clement from East Enders species of tough dames. Jo does little to help undo this impression with her tendency to wear unflattering clothing that looks like it has been bought direct from the bargain bin in Primark, ("A New Year - A New Look For You! And All For Under £1.50!).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"What doesn't kill you makes you stronger"&lt;br /&gt;Shilpa Shetty, January 2007&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;remotevision@gmail.com&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30831139-2779036916019607759?l=remotevision.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30831139/posts/default/2779036916019607759'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30831139/posts/default/2779036916019607759'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://remotevision.blogspot.com/2007/01/witches-of-primark.html' title='the witches of primark'/><author><name>Terence</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14394053210334889811</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_g5oqfhP7Uj4/SWI5eUZlE9I/AAAAAAAAASU/h0v_L_ngTpU/S220/imdb.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp3.blogger.com/_g5oqfhP7Uj4/Ra56rQjG6II/AAAAAAAAACc/CsHYLoS-nx4/s72-c/Pam+St+Clement.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30831139.post-1722968785614483900</id><published>2007-01-16T19:48:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-01-16T20:26:27.020Z</updated><title type='text'>the dishevelled danielle</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_g5oqfhP7Uj4/Ra00mAjG6HI/AAAAAAAAACQ/LNpMN_vbULM/s1600-h/hands.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_g5oqfhP7Uj4/Ra00mAjG6HI/AAAAAAAAACQ/LNpMN_vbULM/s200/hands.gif" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5020726987174897778" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;CBB5 Day Twelve&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;OK, let's just do this bit: Shilpa could probably be a little irritating, if you are easily irritated; she is a tiny bit self absorbed, and has a mildly annoying laugh.&lt;br /&gt;That's it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Now then, is the behaviour and language directed towards Shilpa to be considered racism? Is it bullying?&lt;br /&gt;Yes. It is.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;However, although it doesn't excuse the behaviour, I suspect it is born from ignorance and a desire to 'showboat' in front of equally uninformed, ill-educated and offensive bores, of a world that exists beneath the acceptable veneer of modern society.&lt;br /&gt;I feel ashamed today. That may say more about me, than the repellent behaviour of Danielle and her clumsy S Club cohort, but as a white, 'middle class' male, I feel shame to be part of a culture that has led to this.&lt;br /&gt;Of course, we can say it is just a daft reality TV show, and we would be right. But that doesn't make Danielle and Jo's shallow and crude, cretinous values any more acceptable.&lt;br /&gt;As Danielle is coming out with 'hilarious' one-liners ("Do they eat with their fingers? I don't know where her fingers have been.") CH4 is currently finding it more appropriate to lead its website coverage with a badly written summary of H from Steps getting highlights in his hair.&lt;br /&gt;Meanwhile MPs are asking questions hither and thither; OFCOM are receiving sackfuls of complaints; and BB related websites are chock full of adverse comments, and genuine bewilderment and concern.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Of course, when CBB is over, this imbroglio will be yesterday's news and tomorrow's fish 'n' chip paper, but I cannot escape a feeling of sadness that this (clearly underlying) bigotry and narrow-mindedness is still prevalent in Britain in 2007. I genuinely thought that we had long moved on from believing it is fair game to pick on someone because their skin colour is a little different to our own; their accent is not like ours; and they may have alternative beliefs. It is with cheerlessness that I write that I was wrong to believe that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Mentally dishevelled" is Cleo's wonderful description of Danielle. Let's add - uncultured, uneducated and unenlightened while we're about it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Nothing in the world is more dangerous than a sincere ignorance and conscientious stupidity.”&lt;br /&gt;Martin Luther King.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;remotevision@gmail.com&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30831139-1722968785614483900?l=remotevision.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30831139/posts/default/1722968785614483900'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30831139/posts/default/1722968785614483900'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://remotevision.blogspot.com/2007/01/dishevelled-danielle.html' title='the dishevelled danielle'/><author><name>Terence</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14394053210334889811</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_g5oqfhP7Uj4/SWI5eUZlE9I/AAAAAAAAASU/h0v_L_ngTpU/S220/imdb.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp1.blogger.com/_g5oqfhP7Uj4/Ra00mAjG6HI/AAAAAAAAACQ/LNpMN_vbULM/s72-c/hands.gif' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30831139.post-2440910487285648417</id><published>2007-01-14T22:43:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-01-14T23:09:02.558Z</updated><title type='text'>the grievous sin of cooking dinner</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_g5oqfhP7Uj4/Raq31AjG6GI/AAAAAAAAACE/ZiLWvDl9EXk/s1600-h/netball.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_g5oqfhP7Uj4/Raq31AjG6GI/AAAAAAAAACE/ZiLWvDl9EXk/s200/netball.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5020026855966042210" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;CBB5 Day Eleven&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Although Shilpa continues to find the whole BB experience surreal and overwhelming, she did manage to find time to re-engage with Danielle by taking a verbal swipe at poor harmless Dirk. Of course, there could be little more engaging to the quirky Danielle than to back-bite another whilst they are out of earshot.&lt;br /&gt;Danielle is swiftly emerging as the number one candidate to take over the juvenile lead in the house, from the departed Little Leo, with her greatest teenage moment coming when she accused Shilpa (behind her back, of course,) of committing the grievous sin of cooking dinner.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Danielle is the kid who sat at the back of the school bus, smoking a roll-up, making catty remarks about the netball captain.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If Danielle has a fellow traveller in the house, it has to be the monosyllabic Jack, whose time on CBB5 so far, has had all the impact of a flea landing on Nelson's Column.&lt;br /&gt;Whatever the future holds we can be sure (after the Tribute Band task) that Jack will not be troubling the Top 40 with his vocal talents. Nor, in case, the BBC bookers are wondering, does he appear to be a candidate for the next run of Celebrity Mastermind.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Of course, both Danielle and Jack will now be able to live off this fleeting fame for, oh... at least a week or two, as they have now crossed the winning line and can be classed as bona fide celebrities, enriched with the award of being famous simply for being famous.&lt;br /&gt;But what of the long term prospects?&lt;br /&gt;No problem at all, we can be sure, as in years to come, Jack and Danielle could have leading roles as 'couple on sofa' in an Ocean Finance commercial. They are simply made for it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;remotevision@gmail.com&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30831139-2440910487285648417?l=remotevision.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30831139/posts/default/2440910487285648417'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30831139/posts/default/2440910487285648417'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://remotevision.blogspot.com/2007/01/cbb5-day-eleven-although-shilpa.html' title='the grievous sin of cooking dinner'/><author><name>Terence</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14394053210334889811</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_g5oqfhP7Uj4/SWI5eUZlE9I/AAAAAAAAASU/h0v_L_ngTpU/S220/imdb.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp2.blogger.com/_g5oqfhP7Uj4/Raq31AjG6GI/AAAAAAAAACE/ZiLWvDl9EXk/s72-c/netball.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30831139.post-8700177095766038617</id><published>2007-01-13T12:12:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-01-13T12:41:02.824Z</updated><title type='text'>the zombie from the jacuzzi</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_g5oqfhP7Uj4/RajTCgjG6FI/AAAAAAAAAB4/i9Ief0pQt68/s1600-h/eraserhead.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_g5oqfhP7Uj4/RajTCgjG6FI/AAAAAAAAAB4/i9Ief0pQt68/s200/eraserhead.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5019493824754804818" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;CBB5 Day Ten&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This season of CBB is turning into an unique experience. In contrast to last year's cheery pantomime, with its youthful vigour and Cinderella romance, the 2007 version is a dark and troubled affair. There are undercurrents and swirling tides of brooding surrealism. It is as if the whole affair is being directed by David Lynch. It's a cartoon remix of Eraserhead. The commercial breaks in the highlights show come as gentle relief from the intensity. Don't rain on my parade.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;God forbid, but it would be no surprise to wake up one morning to hear of some sort of mutant creature emerging from the plughole of the much underused Jacuzzi and learning that it is has devoured Jo from S Club whilst she slept.&lt;br /&gt;I think the most likely explanation for the mood of doom in the house is that all housemates secretly went through some sort of voodoo ritual in the green room at Elstree prior to being prised into their respective limos.&lt;br /&gt;They are all actually zombies (this of course would also be a sensible explanation for Dermot O'Leary) who have all been reawakened to their new personas by some awful shamanic process, leaving them completely in control of their Endemol masters.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's not easy to be sure whether it was a dream sequence, but I thought I saw Danielle in a pink tracksuit nominating Leo for acting like an elderly voyeur. Wonderfully, Dirk nominated H for being too happy, but then ruined the moment when he nominated Jermaine for the old, cheesy, non-reason of helping him to leave as he was missing the 'real' world.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the end, we learned that Little Leo would have been scooped out via the public vote, but due to the manipulation of the procedures by CH4 (Carole &amp; Cleo being parachuted into the eviction lottery for a rather nondescript violation of the 'rules') the Sunday Mirror columnist was ejected well in time to meet the deadline for her to script her exposé in tomorrow's EXCLUSIVE!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sleep well Big Brother housemates, but keep half an eye open for the lady in the radiator...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;remotevision@gmail.com&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30831139-8700177095766038617?l=remotevision.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30831139/posts/default/8700177095766038617'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30831139/posts/default/8700177095766038617'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://remotevision.blogspot.com/2007/01/zombie-from-jacuzzi.html' title='the zombie from the jacuzzi'/><author><name>Terence</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14394053210334889811</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_g5oqfhP7Uj4/SWI5eUZlE9I/AAAAAAAAASU/h0v_L_ngTpU/S220/imdb.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp2.blogger.com/_g5oqfhP7Uj4/RajTCgjG6FI/AAAAAAAAAB4/i9Ief0pQt68/s72-c/eraserhead.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30831139.post-2313207704646660797</id><published>2007-01-12T19:46:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-01-12T20:12:51.463Z</updated><title type='text'>the pants</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_g5oqfhP7Uj4/RafrjwjG6EI/AAAAAAAAABs/RdNwZ63Iwhs/s1600-h/captain-underpants.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_g5oqfhP7Uj4/RafrjwjG6EI/AAAAAAAAABs/RdNwZ63Iwhs/s200/captain-underpants.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5019239309287811138" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;CBB5 Day Nine&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ah such a timely departure for raging Little Leo, the self-styled hard man of CBB5. It is curiously appropriate that he has left following a dispute with BB - not about demands for barrels of alcohol, ganja, or even packets of Marlboro; the wild man of Borehamwood jemmied his way out of the House after a disagreement about underpants. His own, I should stress, although he seemed to have a rather sad interest in poor Danielle's garments.&lt;br /&gt;Little Leo never quite 'got it' did he? We must assume he had never watched the show, or if he had, he must have continued to kid himself that he was above it all; coating himself with the delusions we have considered in previous columns.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One imagines that 'crisis talks' were soon in progress at BB Headquarters. On behalf of a desperate nation I make a plea - don't put Jackiey back in there! With her gravelly voice and her unusual habits, she is far better placed in the Borehamwood Holiday Inn, than back in our living rooms.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How wonderful, the eulogies that followed Jackiey out of the house the other night. The way Cleo described it, we could have been persuaded it was one of the holiest of saints who had just risen to heaven, rather than some tattooed bint who had just gone about fifty yards from the BB house studio, to the Davina debacle, and on to her mid-priced hotel on the Barnet by-pass.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So let us remember Jackiey for her wit, allure and poise.&lt;br /&gt;"I've brought jewelry in as eviction presents! I love leaving things.... but I don't think I'm giving Indian any present..."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh! Such charm!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;remotevision@gmail.com&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30831139-2313207704646660797?l=remotevision.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30831139/posts/default/2313207704646660797'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30831139/posts/default/2313207704646660797'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://remotevision.blogspot.com/2007/01/pants.html' title='the pants'/><author><name>Terence</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14394053210334889811</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_g5oqfhP7Uj4/SWI5eUZlE9I/AAAAAAAAASU/h0v_L_ngTpU/S220/imdb.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp2.blogger.com/_g5oqfhP7Uj4/RafrjwjG6EI/AAAAAAAAABs/RdNwZ63Iwhs/s72-c/captain-underpants.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30831139.post-2478726733811669081</id><published>2007-01-11T19:03:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-01-11T20:33:29.060Z</updated><title type='text'>the stockholm syndrome</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_g5oqfhP7Uj4/Raae1wjG6DI/AAAAAAAAABg/RfC6gHkGeBM/s1600-h/shilpa_shetty.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_g5oqfhP7Uj4/Raae1wjG6DI/AAAAAAAAABg/RfC6gHkGeBM/s200/shilpa_shetty.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5018873481153407026" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;CBB5 Day Eight&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Carole, Leo and Duck up for eviction; so it's between Meltdown Man, The Face &amp; a motherly figure from the Sunday Mirror.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dirk is an odd fish. If they were allowed writing implements in there, he'd be scribbling 'Dirk4Shilpa' all over the walls. Earlier this week he proved the old adage of the UK and the US being two nations divided by a common language when he commented that he could hardly understand a word that anyone was saying. I don't see many viewers having strong views about Dirk, so we can anticipate his survival.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Carole is this year's primary example of Big Brother &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Stockholm_syndrome"&gt;Stockholm Syndrome&lt;/a&gt; (BBSS) in which we generally find one of our sojourners arrives in the house after a VT implying that they are above the whole thing. In Carole's case, the hard driven journalist was going to investigate BB from the inside, enabling her to enhance her 'ability' to write rather gauche pieces, targeting the usual victims from tv and tabloid notoriety.&lt;br /&gt;However, I must advise the court that Carole has fallen right into the BBSS trap that has captured so many of her predecessors. The empathy and factionalism that has hit every single group since Melanie Hill led the way in 2000.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Carole or Leo? Leo or Carole? The conundrum that is regularly faced. Dump the pain in the butt (Leo) or keep him because he makes better viewing with his self absorbed, 'me, me, me' ravings, and his Guantanamo Bay, and his "Air conditioning? Noise terrorism! I wouldn't keep a dog like this!" madness?&lt;br /&gt;Alternatively boot out the tiresome Carole, with her 'I'm older, let me advise you' platitudes, or keep her in because... erm... actually I can't think of any reason why we may want to keep her with us.&lt;br /&gt;Carole Malone is unlikely to ever win any 'Entertainer of the Year' awards.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Let's have a punt. My two pounds is on Little Leo to be hoofed out on Friday. Back to Oz and his little delusional world. G'day mate.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;remotevision@gmail.com&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30831139-2478726733811669081?l=remotevision.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30831139/posts/default/2478726733811669081'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30831139/posts/default/2478726733811669081'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://remotevision.blogspot.com/2007/01/stockholm-syndrome.html' title='the stockholm syndrome'/><author><name>Terence</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14394053210334889811</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_g5oqfhP7Uj4/SWI5eUZlE9I/AAAAAAAAASU/h0v_L_ngTpU/S220/imdb.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp1.blogger.com/_g5oqfhP7Uj4/Raae1wjG6DI/AAAAAAAAABg/RfC6gHkGeBM/s72-c/shilpa_shetty.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30831139.post-235457507720455542</id><published>2007-01-10T19:07:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-01-10T22:01:12.623Z</updated><title type='text'>the meltdown of leo</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_g5oqfhP7Uj4/RaVhywjG6CI/AAAAAAAAABU/YCJWlFA9yuc/s1600-h/morrissey.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_g5oqfhP7Uj4/RaVhywjG6CI/AAAAAAAAABU/YCJWlFA9yuc/s200/morrissey.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5018524884427794466" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;CBB5 Day Seven&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Stick with me here for a moment if you would, for I will find my point somewhere in this little olde faeble...&lt;br /&gt;The tale came to me last night as I watched (on tv) the youthful Arsenal side bash six goals past a strangely out of sorts Liverpool, and I began to think about Arsene Wenger. For years he was known as the urbane, cultured French fellow, whose only real show of emotion is when he does that odd arm pumping thing when Arsenal score. The odd bit is how he keeps his arms at hip level so he looks like a five year old, in the playground, impersonating a steam train.&lt;br /&gt;Cool, sophisticated Arsene, or so we thought.&lt;br /&gt;Then, this season, the occaisionally pompous Arsenal team did not perform to the levels expected. Their league form has been inconsistent, and Thierry has not been firing on all his (superhuman admittedly) cylinders.&lt;br /&gt;So Arsene began to feel the pressure, and began, at times of stress, to overheat (to continue the steam theme...), and we have seen another side to Monsieur Wenger that many believed did not exist.&lt;br /&gt;West Ham scored a goal, very late in the game, and Arsene Wenger lost his marbles (les marbres) and got into an argy-bargy with the then manager of the Hammers, Alan Pardew. This was a shock. A bit like seeing Barbie take on a Power Ranger in a fight to the death.&lt;br /&gt;Or like watching Leo Sayer take on the world in the shape of Big Brother (see? I told you we'd get there).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What ever happened to the irritatingly chirpy fellow who told us, "I'm really good at cheering up a room?"&lt;br /&gt;Suddenly we are faced with this professional miserablist who makes Morrissey seem like Keith Chegwin.&lt;br /&gt;Perhaps in times to come, Leo may realise that linking the Big Brother house to Abu Ghraib and Guantanamo Bay is a little, may we say, excessive. More Bracklesham Bay than Guantanamo Bay, I propose.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So Leo angrily strides down the well worn McCririck path of 'demanding' to see the contract. This was wonderful stuff as Little Leo sat in the diary room with his little spectacles and studied page after page of this mysterious contract. He then stood up, said his 'thankyous' and carried on as if nothing had ever happened.&lt;br /&gt;You see, Leo - you can't 'win'. You agreed to go in there, and hand over editorial control. You made the mistake that at least one or two bozos make each year in CBB. You are no longer surrounded by your yes men and, indeed, yes women.&lt;br /&gt;You've made the career bending catastrophic, ego ridden, mistake of convincing yourself that &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;you&lt;/span&gt; are responsible for the 'Thunder In My Heart' 'second time around' hit last year.&lt;br /&gt;Buddy, it ain't you. When &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Meck &lt;/span&gt;took it to number one, hardly anyone knew it was you warbling away.&lt;br /&gt;There is no great Leo resurgence. No matter what your acolytes tell you, and what you tell yourself. So telling us that as a celebrity, you should be treated with respect, won't wash here.&lt;br /&gt;Good luck with the career though. I'm not sure whether you have just enhanced your chances or blown them completely. I'm afraid I suspect it is the latter...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;remotevision@gmail.com&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30831139-235457507720455542?l=remotevision.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30831139/posts/default/235457507720455542'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30831139/posts/default/235457507720455542'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://remotevision.blogspot.com/2007/01/meltdown-of-leo.html' title='the meltdown of leo'/><author><name>Terence</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14394053210334889811</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_g5oqfhP7Uj4/SWI5eUZlE9I/AAAAAAAAASU/h0v_L_ngTpU/S220/imdb.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp0.blogger.com/_g5oqfhP7Uj4/RaVhywjG6CI/AAAAAAAAABU/YCJWlFA9yuc/s72-c/morrissey.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30831139.post-1284237079045212377</id><published>2007-01-09T17:58:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-01-09T18:11:42.660Z</updated><title type='text'>the erotic jacket</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_g5oqfhP7Uj4/RaPZhNpAJmI/AAAAAAAAABI/R1fCNkgwaX0/s1600-h/lemmy.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_g5oqfhP7Uj4/RaPZhNpAJmI/AAAAAAAAABI/R1fCNkgwaX0/s200/lemmy.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5018093574441412194" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;CBB5 Day Six&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;As I sit here writing this, looking out at the grey skies of North London, the BBC is reporting, &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;“Authorities in New York are attempting to identify a persistent gas smell across a large part of lower Manhattan.”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Surely it can’t be Jackiey? Not from this distance?&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thank God (or CH4, whichever has the greater authority in these matters) that the master/servant thing is over. The place was becoming a whine house without the offer of rehab ('Try to make me go to rehab. I say no, no, no'). &lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;It is fascinating how, with each series, a pattern is repeated. The bonhomie and Enid Blyton platitudes of the first few days (“We’ll all be friends forever!”) can be blown to pieces with a few simple costume changes and the splitting of the part into two groups.&lt;br /&gt;The boss/underling business actually highlighted a number of issues endemic in society, and, no doubt, academics in Oxbridge are already planning post graduate courses in sociological theories derived from the first major task of CBB5.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As we know, this whole Upstairs Downstairs exercise became somewhat debilitating for Leo. In the dying embers of the task we were again gifted an example of Leo’s bizarre conversational technique. Telling Danielle that he woke up in the night with amorous feelings towards her (rather unappealing) jacket, her expression spoke volumes. Actually, not volumes, but three words, ‘grubby old man’.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;I’ve rather warmed to Jade in the last thirty-six hours. Nothing became her in her four years of ‘fame’ as her passionate defence of the downtrodden. This did not seem like some clever, manipulative ploy for the cameras (could Jade ever engineer such a thing?), but more like the expression of a fiery, innate sense of decency. The valuing of the care and well being of others, above the desires of those that already ‘have’. Well done that gal.&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But let us focus on Jackiey today (put a lens cap over the focus please), for Jackiey remains a fascinatingly one-dimensional figure in the BB house.  The auditory experience of Jackiey is like listening to Motorhead from inside their on-stage speaker system, whilst having your fingernails extracted by Edward Scissorhands.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Imagine Eliza Doolittle being trained in social graces and etiquette by the Taliban.&lt;br /&gt;Jackiey appears to burn with anger and frustration 24/7. It’s sad, in the truest definition of the word. Life for Jackiey seems to be an ordeal, a vortex of disappointment and anguish. A daily climb of Everest, except she never even reaches base camp.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wonder if Jackiey has any friends “in real life” as they say in the argot of the Internet. For patience and inner tranquillity would be pre-requisites for such a demanding role, and I wonder if such a saintly being exists. I hope so, as she seems such a lonely, disheartened lady, who only knows how to react with one level of emotion – an extreme and very raw level, at that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;remotevision@gmail.com&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30831139-1284237079045212377?l=remotevision.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30831139/posts/default/1284237079045212377'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30831139/posts/default/1284237079045212377'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://remotevision.blogspot.com/2007/01/erotic-jacket.html' title='the erotic jacket'/><author><name>Terence</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14394053210334889811</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_g5oqfhP7Uj4/SWI5eUZlE9I/AAAAAAAAASU/h0v_L_ngTpU/S220/imdb.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp1.blogger.com/_g5oqfhP7Uj4/RaPZhNpAJmI/AAAAAAAAABI/R1fCNkgwaX0/s72-c/lemmy.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30831139.post-5247962854635372374</id><published>2007-01-07T21:45:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-01-07T22:28:53.949Z</updated><title type='text'>the toffs and the proletariat</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_g5oqfhP7Uj4/RaFzB9pAJlI/AAAAAAAAAA8/cSYJtSujiPw/s1600-h/upstairs+downstairs.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_g5oqfhP7Uj4/RaFzB9pAJlI/AAAAAAAAAA8/cSYJtSujiPw/s200/upstairs+downstairs.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5017417937431045714" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;CBB5 Day Five&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well it was getting a little tedious watching the catatonic Gerard Hugh Sayer (a three year old in a fifty eight year old body)&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;and Cleo Rocos (who clearly shares a hair stylist with Don King) recreating Upstairs Downstairs but without Mrs Bridges there to keep them in their place. However, the cobwebs of tedium were dynamited away by the whole place being transformed into a kind of sociological study on class division and the differing expectations of strata of society across the world.&lt;br /&gt;It may have been what was intended, or it may, nolens volens, have just appeared at the right time by some seismic shift in the cosmos. Or by Jade's mum.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Interestingly, the whole Big Cheese/Flunky thing has caused as much disquiet to those who are used to employing hirelings, as to Jade and her crew (oh - with the exception of Jackiey who appears to be relishing the whole deal, and clearly not sharing Jade's feelings of inadequacy with the set up).&lt;br /&gt;However, Jackiey's gusto is easily confused as it swirls into a melting pot of emptiness and nothingness, because her endless, outspoken running commentary on life blurs the perimeters of any hope of sense, until we are left quivering with exhaustion unable to keep up to the challenge of translating as she fires along her narrow ploughed path of diction and idiom.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here we have the key to the debate. There will be those who will insist such behaviour is simply 'having a laugh', and there is certainty that this form of communication and comportment is recreated across our land, and indeed is magnified, in corridor towns and urban landscapes on Fridays and Saturdays as the revellers turn out from their evening's entertainment at Rocky's or Cheekeee's (often without the apostrophe, but with a kidney bursting at the seams).&lt;br /&gt;Then there are those who will insist that such conduct mirrors the decline in values and belonging, in society today. The lack of respect and the desire to renounce ownership or responsibility for our own actions.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Meanwhile, Jackiey is in the diary room requesting her medication, and asking for the heating to be turned down as it is making her itch.&lt;br /&gt;Jermaine is musing that "You can't reason with stupidity".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They may as well bring in Jade's grandparents now to complete the set. Oh, they just have. Jump back up on the couch would you? Tell me about your childhood.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;remotevision@gmail.com&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30831139-5247962854635372374?l=remotevision.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30831139/posts/default/5247962854635372374'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30831139/posts/default/5247962854635372374'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://remotevision.blogspot.com/2007/01/toffs-and-proletariat.html' title='the toffs and the proletariat'/><author><name>Terence</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14394053210334889811</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_g5oqfhP7Uj4/SWI5eUZlE9I/AAAAAAAAASU/h0v_L_ngTpU/S220/imdb.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp2.blogger.com/_g5oqfhP7Uj4/RaFzB9pAJlI/AAAAAAAAAA8/cSYJtSujiPw/s72-c/upstairs+downstairs.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30831139.post-6960894274941258745</id><published>2007-01-06T23:36:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-01-07T00:18:55.865Z</updated><title type='text'>the 25th most influential person in the world</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_g5oqfhP7Uj4/RaA8ItpAJkI/AAAAAAAAAAw/DndGEXWcYrM/s1600-h/love+shack.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_g5oqfhP7Uj4/RaA8ItpAJkI/AAAAAAAAAAw/DndGEXWcYrM/s200/love+shack.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5017076105278924354" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt; CBB5 Day Four&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Do you live in a house or a shack?" So much revealed by that simple sentence.&lt;br /&gt;Thus spake the mother of the '25th most influential person in the world'.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am convinced that Ken is receiving messages from aliens through the tentacle-like aerials that are disguised as his eyebrows. These aliens are taking over his thought processes and forcing him to tell Shilpa that he intends to wash her underwear and "her stockings". There can be no other reason why a seventy-nine year old man would make such a helpful offer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Meanwhile an entire shipload of university students could write a barrel load of theses about the influence of alcohol on young, pretend punk rockers from Buckinghamshire. Donny Woolworths shed one personality overnight like a snake disposing of a layer of skin, emerging the next day to become a cheerful, amiable, Home Counties, Middle-Englander who could comfortably sit down with Bob Geldof for Sunday lunch.&lt;br /&gt;The decision to leg it over the wall was probably the best piece of judgement Donny had made since tumbling out of the limo, but how thrilling of Watkins of the Third Year to histrionically recreate the moment for the other inmates, yet take great care to establish that it wasn't him Sir, it was all that Donny Woolworth's idea Sir. It wasn't me. I wasn't there. I did lift him up yes, but I didn't do it.&lt;br /&gt;Catherine Tate would be very proud.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;remotevision@gmail.com&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30831139-6960894274941258745?l=remotevision.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30831139/posts/default/6960894274941258745'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30831139/posts/default/6960894274941258745'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://remotevision.blogspot.com/2007/01/25th-most-influential-person-in-world.html' title='the 25th most influential person in the world'/><author><name>Terence</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14394053210334889811</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_g5oqfhP7Uj4/SWI5eUZlE9I/AAAAAAAAASU/h0v_L_ngTpU/S220/imdb.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp0.blogger.com/_g5oqfhP7Uj4/RaA8ItpAJkI/AAAAAAAAAAw/DndGEXWcYrM/s72-c/love+shack.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30831139.post-510389940007265809</id><published>2007-01-06T13:28:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-01-06T14:02:41.199Z</updated><title type='text'>the beret of gloom</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_g5oqfhP7Uj4/RZ-qltpAJjI/AAAAAAAAAAk/8B5XCNqbG2U/s1600-h/brick-wall.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_g5oqfhP7Uj4/RZ-qltpAJjI/AAAAAAAAAAk/8B5XCNqbG2U/s200/brick-wall.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5016916074797475378" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;CBB5 Day Three&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I genuinely hope I'm wrong, but I feel an air of gloom descending over this year's CBB. This gloomy glumness was not lifted with the sight of Davina impersonating Citizen Smith impersonating Frank Spencer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Things we saw today:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kindly Ian "I'm out" Watkins offered his lip salve to the rest of the group in the manner of someone handing out wine gums. Unsurprisingly, no-one took up his generous offer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Shilpa is beginning to show that she was stitched up in her pre-entry VT and we are now seeing a far more humble and rounded person.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;The big surprise - there is a house next door! Revealed by Davina as if she was unfolding the eternal secrets of the universe. We knew there was going to be a bloody house next door! In particular, the 'housemates' had known following newspaper speculation (accurate speculation) before they had even pulled up in the limos, that there was to be a house next door, and that Jade and her affiliates would be involved.&lt;br /&gt;Thus we have the issue encapsulated. BB is now so well known, and the potential 'surprises' are either so well worn, or so well predicted, that we know what's coming before Davina has one of seizures in telling us the latest 'twist'.&lt;br /&gt;The production team have enough time and resources to come up with new ideas and schemes (and keep them quiet) without these rather lame and hackneyed concepts.&lt;br /&gt;Hence the gloom and glumness. At the moment CBB5 is treading water. The celebrities are all too aware of what is going on and are second guessing the next moves. There is a perception that many (all?) are there for the fee and the increased profile in an ever more knowing way. A kind of 'stick it out for twenty-odd days and feel the ripples in my bank account' vibe going on.&lt;br /&gt;Great for the celebs. Less so for the viewer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Who can blame Donny for clambering over the wall?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;remotevision@gmail.com&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30831139-510389940007265809?l=remotevision.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30831139/posts/default/510389940007265809'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30831139/posts/default/510389940007265809'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://remotevision.blogspot.com/2007/01/cbb5-day-three-i-genuinely-hope-im.html' title='the beret of gloom'/><author><name>Terence</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14394053210334889811</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_g5oqfhP7Uj4/SWI5eUZlE9I/AAAAAAAAASU/h0v_L_ngTpU/S220/imdb.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp3.blogger.com/_g5oqfhP7Uj4/RZ-qltpAJjI/AAAAAAAAAAk/8B5XCNqbG2U/s72-c/brick-wall.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30831139.post-3139667251596094413</id><published>2007-01-04T20:14:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-01-04T23:19:15.129Z</updated><title type='text'>the pirate of buckinghamshire</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_g5oqfhP7Uj4/RZ2FTjsGSPI/AAAAAAAAAAY/dS1fVajnCQw/s1600-h/andy+pandy.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_g5oqfhP7Uj4/RZ2FTjsGSPI/AAAAAAAAAAY/dS1fVajnCQw/s200/andy+pandy.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5016312131004811506" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;CBB5 Day Two&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Aha! Already the game has begun. Let's make fun of the old geezer.&lt;br /&gt;I'm worried for Ken Russell; we may yet see the first BB contender expire (whilst being monitored by thirty seven cameras). Maybe it is because I see my own calendar galumphing around and I can see my future in a sort of Ken Russell world of badly fitting trousers and a dazed expression.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How soon it becomes apparent that a contender's chances of winning are so reliant on the edit for the highlight show. This evening we saw that the camera does not find much of interest in Carole Malone, yet it follows Donny around like a cougar stalking a hyena. Donny is a strange fish and no mistake; a sort of Woolworth's version of a 1977 punk. A sort of Johnny Depp-lite.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Things we learned today:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To alleviate the problem of not wishing to introduce himself, Jermaine, handily, has his name emblazoned across his trousers. However to confuse those with whom he has just met, he also has the names of the other Jackson family members scribbled out on his jeans in a bizarre marriage of sequins and coloured threads. I imagine he doesn't put these jeans through a hot wash.&lt;br /&gt;I'm wondering if Jermaine is being sponsored by Oil Of Olay. He must duck his entire face into a bucketful of the stuff several times a day. It's either Oil Of Olay or chip fat. I'll keep looking for clues and let you know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ian told us how he 'came out in the papers' just before he entered the house. He said this as if anyone who ever knew of his work whilst in Steps would be even mildly surprised at the news.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was trying to think of who Little Leo reminded me of as he paraded in his retro stripey jim-jams... Andy Pandy! That's it. Without Teddy and Looby Loo at his side, it took me a while to put him into context.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But back to Donny. Always back to Donny Woolworth.&lt;br /&gt;"You're still 'aving it son", he croaked to a startled Dirk Benedict, "You must know how to blow sh*t up!".&lt;br /&gt;Later Donny added to the jollity of the day by gobbing into the hot tub. It's one way of topping up the water level, I suppose...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Will Jermaine run out of emollients to smear all over his face? Will Carole be seen for more than ten seconds of screen time? Will Jade Goody or Lauren Harries be launched in tomorrow night?&lt;br /&gt;Hide the remote.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;remotevision@gmail.com&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30831139-3139667251596094413?l=remotevision.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30831139/posts/default/3139667251596094413'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30831139/posts/default/3139667251596094413'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://remotevision.blogspot.com/2007/01/pirate-of-buckinghamshire.html' title='the pirate of buckinghamshire'/><author><name>Terence</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14394053210334889811</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_g5oqfhP7Uj4/SWI5eUZlE9I/AAAAAAAAASU/h0v_L_ngTpU/S220/imdb.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp3.blogger.com/_g5oqfhP7Uj4/RZ2FTjsGSPI/AAAAAAAAAAY/dS1fVajnCQw/s72-c/andy+pandy.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30831139.post-2684968460341885513</id><published>2007-01-03T19:43:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-01-04T18:41:12.245Z</updated><title type='text'>the importance of being davina</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_g5oqfhP7Uj4/RZwtkDsGSOI/AAAAAAAAAAM/ZiBghDVNTtE/s1600-h/Joker.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_g5oqfhP7Uj4/RZwtkDsGSOI/AAAAAAAAAAM/ZiBghDVNTtE/s200/Joker.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5015934182472698082" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;CBB5 Day One&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A nation worries for the mental health of Davina McCall, with her new Croydon face lift hairstyle, and her ever increasing capacity to gurn at the camera, like Jim Carrey on E.&lt;br /&gt;We now have the additional facial expression with which we will undoubtedly become exasperatingly acquainted over the next few weeks - the serial killer smile. To employ this look, Davina jerks into a freeze-frame stance and leers at us, in the manner of Jack Nicholson as The Joker.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, let us review the line up. In the order in which they skedaddled along the rainy red carpet...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Jermaine Jackson - a rather weather beaten look and the inevitable mirror shades. "How did I get into all of this?" questioned Jermaine in his pre-match VT. Perhaps the rather large appearance fee had something to do with it, Mr Jackson, non?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. Danielle Lloyd - close friend of age-less West Ham supersub, Teddy Sheringham. First housemate so far to use the 'I'm here so everyone can see the real me' strategy. I wondered if CH4 might bring Teddy on for the last twenty minutes of the show, but he stayed on the bench (or, to be more accurate, the sofa, at home).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. Ken Russell - loopy film director, who may be this year's irascible McCririck doppelganger. Wearing a pair of Simon Cowell trousers, he appeared to be suffering from something; but I'm not sure what it is...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. Jo O'Meara - refugee from S Club 7, she made little impact, yet, inexplicably is the early favourite with the bookmakers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. Little Leo Sayer - yet another attempt to turn the clock back thirty years. "I'm really good at cheering up a room", he squeaked. We'll see if everyone is still saying that after a week or so. Wore a Hare Krishna scarf.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6. Shilpa Shetty - just one vowel away from the most unfortunate surname to adorn Big Brother to date. Heavily made up, and immaculately dressed, did she really say "I'm special" and "I'm very synonymous with glamour" ? Yes, she did.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7. Carole Malone - the one lone cry of 'Who are ya?' as she creaked up the stairs said it all. Complete outsider with the bookies and likely to be booted out early on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8. Donny Tourette - unlikely to be his real name, I suggest. Gave first impression of being an imbecile, whose chief hobby is spitting. Allegedly the boyfriend of Peaches Geldof, but not the sort of chap one would take home to meet Papa. Likely to prompt Daily Mail readers towards appealing for the return of compulsory National Service.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;9. Ian 'H' Watkins - currently third favourite, he seemed rather 'normal', which may count against him as the weeks drag by. Former member of Steps, but everyone deserves a second chance in life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10. Cleo Rocos - Brazilian gal, who is chiefly known for not doing very much since appearing in lame Kenny Everett sketches, several decades ago. Seemed rather pleasant but will not attract the level of voting needed to progress far, one foresees.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;11. Dirk Benedict - former member of the 'A' Team, his dramatic entrance was undermined when, after the rest of him climbed out of the van, his left leg appeared to follow on about twenty seconds later.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It came across as somewhat of a low key start to CBB 2007. It rained. There was no Hasselhof, no Stephen Hawking, and thank heavens, no Robert Kilroy-Silk.&lt;br /&gt;Will Shilpa be able to ignore Donny's rolling spitballs of phlegm? Will little Leo try and organise some party games, "I'm really good at cheering up a room" ?&lt;br /&gt;Let the games of the CBB Olympiad commence.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;remotevision@gmail.com&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30831139-2684968460341885513?l=remotevision.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30831139/posts/default/2684968460341885513'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30831139/posts/default/2684968460341885513'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://remotevision.blogspot.com/2007/01/importance-of-being-davina.html' title='the importance of being davina'/><author><name>Terence</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14394053210334889811</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_g5oqfhP7Uj4/SWI5eUZlE9I/AAAAAAAAASU/h0v_L_ngTpU/S220/imdb.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp0.blogger.com/_g5oqfhP7Uj4/RZwtkDsGSOI/AAAAAAAAAAM/ZiBghDVNTtE/s72-c/Joker.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30831139.post-116776653693066697</id><published>2007-01-02T18:57:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-01-02T20:59:04.156Z</updated><title type='text'>the glamour of  LED lighting</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;CBB5. The day before day one.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So here we are. On the edge of the cliff. Like riders on the storm, dogs without bones, actors out alone and any other analogy you would like to throw in for free.&lt;br /&gt;To date, everyone from Stephen Hawking to Kate Moss has been mooted as a  'definite' to enter the 2007 version of bedlam.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Only Saddam Hussein has been omitted from the listings provided by the compact newspapers (and some of the less compact ones too) and his unavailability is for the rather straightforward reason that he is dead. Although this didn't prove to be a hindrance for Faria Alam last year, who at least gave the impression of being completely lifeless.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Whoever they are, we are assured by the official CH4 website that no expense has been spared this time, to ensure that the contenders are living in a world of luxury combining the heights of The Ritz, The Wolseley and your local Wyevale Garden Centre.&lt;br /&gt;They tell us:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;"The garden has been extensively redesigned and 'tied' with a steel ribbon - LED lighting and a brand new 8-seater hot tub add to the glamour factor."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;font&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Oh man - some LED lights! Such glamour indeed!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Finally - some last minute pleas to Endomol and CH4:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Please - oh dear God, please...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No 'House Next Door...'&lt;br /&gt;No housemates allowed to 'amusingly' immitate Marcus Bentley ("It's Day Three in the Big Broother Hoose").&lt;br /&gt;...and above all.... no really CH4, above everything....no evicting some celebrity sap, only for the Great &amp; The Good in Elstree to decide the viewers were wrong and allow same sap back in under some spurious rule change.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here we go then - open the trap door and let the celebrities tumble to their fate.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://www.channel4.com/bigbrother/media/pre-launch/cbb/housepics/cbb5house_garden6_181.jpg" alt="glamour" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;remotevision@gmail.com&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30831139-116776653693066697?l=remotevision.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30831139/posts/default/116776653693066697'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30831139/posts/default/116776653693066697'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://remotevision.blogspot.com/2007/01/glamour-of-led-lighting.html' title='the glamour of  LED lighting'/><author><name>Terence</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14394053210334889811</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_g5oqfhP7Uj4/SWI5eUZlE9I/AAAAAAAAASU/h0v_L_ngTpU/S220/imdb.JPG'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30831139.post-115273094177498105</id><published>2006-07-12T18:59:00.000Z</published><updated>2006-07-12T20:36:24.926Z</updated><title type='text'>the fluidity of Zizou</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt; So farewell then, to the World Cup. Its departure has left a gaping hole in the tv schedules, but will we miss the coverage of the two competing networks?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Of course, by and large, the visual direction of each match was under the control of the German hosts, which accounts for the long lingering shots of ‘VIPs’ during the games, which left me often berating the Germanic director (even though he was a couple of thousand miles away). “No more close ups of Franz Beckenbauer”, I would cry from the depths of the sofa.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;The camera dillied and dallied so long on Herr Beckenbauer, that I felt it was only a matter of time before John Motson would be forced to tell us that, whilst we were indolently panning in to &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;yet another&lt;/span&gt; view of the former Germany captain and manager, we had missed two goals and a sending off.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;I have never seen so many close-ups in a single sitting. We saw the nostrils of the people in the posh seats, we saw the speckles of light reflecting and refracting on the ice surrounding David Beckham’s ankle, and we saw the individual stitches on the match ball. How they loved to show us the ball. No game could begin without a slow, leisurely, close up examination of the logo on the matchball, as it waited patiently or otherwise, to be rolled off the centre spot by Messrs Ronaldinho, Crespo and co.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Oh but – the most repeated close up – Zinedine Zidane and his great waterfall of sweat-drops, that seem to cascade down his face, and pour, like some mini-Niagara, from his nose and chin. The man must lose litres of fluid simply walking out for the national anthems. He is the Lee Evans of the sporting world but with a little more in terms of footwork. Zizou is a one-man solution to the hosepipe ban. Get him to shake his head whilst walking over your lawn and your problems are solved.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Although we may agree that, in terms of spectacle (and longevity), this has been the greatest World Cup of the modern era; we cannot say the same for the British television coverage. There was little to choose between the offerings of the BBC and their arch foes at ITV. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Surely the time has come to ditch the dreary format of the cheery host (Lineker/Rider) and the three wise monkeys lined up opposite?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;On the BBC, the dour, downbeat offerings of Alan Hansen and Martin O’Neill (‘been there, seen it, can we go home now?’) were in stark, and often jarring, contrast, to the feel of the tournament. Out on the streets, in the pubs, in offices, people were loving the tournament – willing England on (all those flags), yet the taciturn so-called experts had all the oomph and pizzazz of a funeral parlour on a Bank Holiday. Lighten up lads! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;On ITV, the rather tense, and out of place, Steve Rider, conducted proceedings as if he had a broom handle up the back of his shirt. As with the BBC, the experts failed to grasp the emotion of the world outside their little glass cocoon. Ally McCoist (Scottish international) and Andy Townsend (Irish international) could find little to enthuse about, as we at home prayed for the progress of the England team.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;So we turn, finally, to the enigma of Terry Venables, the third culprit, and uber-expert from the ITV squad. El Tel has seen it all, been there, and come back round for another go. His coaching credentials are legendary. Many players testify to his skills in motivating and illuminating a side with his team talks and visionary ideas.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;So why does he gargle and fumble his way through his on screen analysis like a man who has both never watched a game before, and equally, has not much more than a passing acquaintance with the English language. It can’t be nerves surely? He has been on a thousand such studio bound seats over the years. It is a mystery to stump even the greatest combined talents of Miss Marple and DCI Tom Barnaby.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Less than a week since it all ended, and I already pine for early afternoon kick-offs between Togo and Switzerland; early evening dashes to the fridge to coincide with the slow, slow, slow, panning camera shot across the bows of Sepp Blatter; and the angst and anguish as England’s game moves towards the inevitable penalty shoot out.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Only four years to go – roll on 2010!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"&gt;remotevision@gmail.com&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30831139-115273094177498105?l=remotevision.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30831139/posts/default/115273094177498105'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30831139/posts/default/115273094177498105'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://remotevision.blogspot.com/2006/07/fluidity-of-zizou.html' title='the fluidity of Zizou'/><author><name>Terence</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14394053210334889811</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_g5oqfhP7Uj4/SWI5eUZlE9I/AAAAAAAAASU/h0v_L_ngTpU/S220/imdb.JPG'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30831139.post-115238623710716173</id><published>2006-07-08T19:13:00.000Z</published><updated>2006-07-08T19:28:02.890Z</updated><title type='text'>the cantilevered bikini tops</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Just as the numbers were dwindling sufficiently enough for us to remember the difference between the vacant looking Welsh one, the other vacant looking Welsh one, and the Violet Elizabeth Bott one, Big Brother sends us into a summer of morbid depression, by bringing in a variety of new, equally vacant looking ‘housemates’.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Now we have to try and recall which is the ‘rapper’ from Ireland (not the most glamorous location to show on the c.v. when applying for gangsta credibility), and which one is the angry gay chap (Michael? – or is it Matthew? – or Mark? - we can’t be sure).&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Lea, with her cantilevered bikini tops, her tears, and her paranoia safely packed in her suitcase, left us on Friday. It was this unhappy lady who first made me wonder whether auditions had been scrapped this year, and that perhaps Big Brother had simply thrown a net over the first fourteen people queuing at a nearby Post Office as they fought each other, attempting to cash their Social Fund girocheques.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;From where, they were whisked off and paraded before us in the latter day asylum in Elstree. A sort of Bedlam-Lite.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Returning to the distraught Lea (“You’ve changed!” her remorselessly repeated catchphrase), fans of coarse, inarticulate ladies in their mid-thirties, need not feel as though their summer is over. As if anticipating the demise of the troubled ‘blonde’, Endemol had taken the precaution of introducing a new inmate, in the shape (and an unusual shape it is) of Jayne, a Recruitment Consultant from Slough. Unofficial reports suggest that John Betjeman wrote &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-family:verdana;" &gt;that&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt; poem after spending five minutes in Jayne’s company. The earth exhales. It isn’t clear, who, or what, exactly Jayne spends her time recruiting. However, a quick Google shows that Jayne is hoping to make some money from her BB adventure, in order to pay off debts accumulated “after a string of business flops”. If she has previously used the style, grace, and elan in her business world, which she has shown in her brief tenure in the Big Brother house, perhaps we should not be overtly surprised by that news.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"&gt;remotevision@gmail.com&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30831139-115238623710716173?l=remotevision.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30831139/posts/default/115238623710716173'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30831139/posts/default/115238623710716173'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://remotevision.blogspot.com/2006/07/cantilevered-bikini-tops.html' title='the cantilevered bikini tops'/><author><name>Terence</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14394053210334889811</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_g5oqfhP7Uj4/SWI5eUZlE9I/AAAAAAAAASU/h0v_L_ngTpU/S220/imdb.JPG'/></author></entry></feed>
