Henry James joke of the day

They are remaking the Ronnie Barker classic TV serial "Porridge" but starring Mr. Mackay the tough Scottish warder. It will be called The Turn of the Screw.

 

Sorry I had to bring the goat cheese*

News is a perishable business. Today's stories that seem so important mean nothing a few days later, overtaken by the pressure of events and the dynamics of the news business itself, creating something to broadcast or print so as to have something to sell. But there are some news headlines that simply must be preserved for future generations to enjoy, timeless stories that speak to the heart and provide for us all a beacon that links us in a shared chain [yes, yes, get on with it: Ed].

Anyway, here is one that demands to be given a certain respect. Fresh from the BBC, I give you Norway Goat Cheese Fire Closes Tunnel. It sings out, doesn't it? It invites delighted questioning. Who knew that cheese could burn? What was it doing in the tunnel? Was it all started when a couple of weary hikers unpacked their rucksacks and prepared their evening meal

"Eivind, where are the firelighters? I can't see much inside this tunnel in which we have taken shelter."
"Oh my, Hans, I left them in the fjord"
"Then we must use the goat cheese - but be careful, that stuff is like dynamite"
"Hans, I know what I am doing, jah? Now I'll smear a little here and strike a match...HELP!!!!"

Two men with blackened clothes and singed beards hurtle into the open and the rest is history

*With apologies to Monty Python and the friends of Brian Elquator (like round the middle of the earth only with an "l" in it)

Glimpsed on a train

Mrs. Commuter and I were watching Dan Snow's TV programme on the history of the railways last night. Whilst young Dan enjoyed a steam ride on the north Norfolk railway, two familiar faces popped up amongst his fellow travellers. Mrs. Commuter's brother and sister-in-law, no less.  Rather jarring at first, until we recalled that they had holidayed in that area a few months ago. It was only a little cameo scene and we look forward to their next feature.

What's in your burger?

It seems only five minutes ago I was dissecting the full page newspaper ads taken out by Tesco to apologise for a problem with contaminated petrol [actually it was in 2007: Ed] and, blow me, they are at it again. Responding to a news story that will supply material to comics and wits for a long time, the giant supermarket chain has discovered traces of horse in some of its "beef"-burger ranges. The contamination is caused by dodgy practices at the Irish factories where the burgers are made. To those of a certain age, the fate of the kidnapped champion race-horse Shergar must surely spring at once to mind.

I suppose anyone who buys burgers that contain no more than 67% identifiable beef (according to the packaging) should chew away determinedly, swallow hard and think about higher matters than the source of the remaining 33% of their meal. Perhaps a blinkered approach would be helpful, oops, there I go, an easy horse-racing reference slipped in almost without thinking. So here's a nice one from the net - What do you want on your burger? - A fiver each way. And let's not get started on people taken ill with the trots who are now in a stable condition. Or any references to fast food.

150 up

The Met is celebrating its 150th anniversary. Passenger services on the world's first underground railway system began on 10th January 1863, in the smoke-filled cut-and-cover tunnels dug mainly by hand between Farringdon and Paddington. And today your correspondent rode that very line (well most of it anyway) in a train decorated to fit the occasion. Alas the photo I attempted to take on alighting at Farringdon is not worth reproducing as the train was already moving out at speed and my phone isn't up to that sort of challenge. But there are plenty of examples on the net, such as this video of that same train on Youtube, so no need for another one here.  As usual, thanks to District Dave for providing the link.

I began riding the Met regularly as a schoolboy in 1962, so can claim to be have been a commuter for more than one-third of the entire lifetime of this railway line. As soon as I can think of a suitable livery to don to celebrate this remarkable achievement, I shall do so.