Even more Joys of YouTube

Even more Joys of YouTube

Terry Hall: Yes.

Possibly the finest person ever to come out of Coventry since Lady Godiva. Seeing as the opposition isn't exactly up to much, this could be seen as damning with faint praise. But! Look!

The Specials: Gangsters - "Bernie Rhodes knows, don't argue", a saying I still use to mystify the kids. Also: The drummer! Look at the drummer!

The Specials: Too Much Too Young "Ain't you heard of the starving millions? Ain't you heard of contraception?" Soon (with luck and a following wind) to become the them tune to a BBC sitcom written by TV's Mr Biffo

The Specials: Ghost Town, which will now, for me, be forever associated with Father Ted

Fun Boy Three: Our Lips Are Sealed - And in Urdu, with additional big hair

Fun Boy Three: Tunnel of Love, miming on Top of the Pops with additional big trousers

The Colour Field: Thinking of You - one of those songs that makes you feel all gooey inside for no accountable reason

Lightning Seeds: Sense - written by Hall, T

Dub Pistols: Problem Is

Terry Hall: Ballad of a Landlord - Plz to note the popular beat combo 'No Doubt' making a cameo appearance at about 1:30

In summary: Don't call me Scarface!


Ye Olde Thursday Vote-o

To mark the fact that I have, at last, started work on my new - and much-requested - book "Samuel Pepys: Lust for Glory", I have handed this week's Thursday vote-o over to the man himself. So, if it pleases you, the broad masses of the working proletariat (this is A Good Thing), here are the four stories to choose from for Friday's Tale of Mirth and Woe:

* Conk: Twas a strange day indeed where I met a fyne yet strangely cultur'd gentlemen known only as "The Doctor", whose consultynge rooms were nothing but a small, blue box in Drury Lane

* Road Rage: He spoke in a strange argot, and seem'd greatly interest'd in Ye Great Fyre in which myself and my friend Newton were in no way responsible for by settynge alight to our own fartes

* Kendo's Barbie of Woe: He spake greatly of 'Daleks' - who I assum'd to be Dutch sailors, and showe'd me the inside of his vessel which, he claim'd was 'grander than Ann Noreen Widdecombe's chuff', whoever is this foule harridan of whom he speaks

* Hole in the Ground: Alas, his companion, one Captain Jack, took rather a shining to me and bumm'd me into next week, which came as an extraordinary surprise to both myself and Mrs Pepys who had the watch searchynge for me this last seven days.

Whyle I appear to be with childe with space babies from the 50th Century, I aske you to 'vote-me-do', whatever that means