Excited bear in an ill fitting hat

Excitment! Two of my favourite things in one - online radio and Wondermark - behold! The Sound of Young America interview the wonderous and lovely David Malki !.

Just let me get me ill fitting hat ...

A pawful of dust

I should be hibernating. All sensible bears sleep through January. Find a nice warm cave or a decent five star hotel room and lock themselves in until Spring. But Madame won't let me. Needs her little bear alert and by her side. Bear - the ninth emergency service or something. Yes, it's not fair but if she can't hibernate then I can't hibernate.

Ho hum.

At least I've had the chance to listen to the radio version of Mr Pullman's His Dark Materials. Third time lucky. Read the books. Seen the *yawn* film. Radio version. It's a story for children *sob* I must be a bear of small brain. An idiot cub.

I like all the jolly adventure stuff - witches and gyptians and bobbing about between worlds. Daemons sound interesting. Perhaps it explains Madame.

And - ooooooooo, excitement - there are the armoured bears. Proud. Fierce. Heroic. Unfortunately also gloomy and stinky. I'll give Mr Pullman the first one - that's polar bears for you - never the life and soul of the party - but I think his dig at ursine hygiene standards is a bit low. I have a bath at least twice a year.

But then it goes all deep and dark and theological and my little brain starts to hum. There are a whole load of Da Vinci Code types who insist on being religious with menaces and violence and a god or creator chap who is probably just some old bloke in a box and everyone is fighting and no one is happy and ...

Apologies. Had to take a small break so I could do a little dance to the Banana Splits song. Don't mock. I'll bet Richard Dawkins does it all the time. Secretly. Maybe. Possibly not.

Right. His Dark Materials. Rebellion against false god. No one happy. Angels all grumpy. Death. Disaster. Despair. Dust.

Lots of dust. Only dust isn't just dust it is also original sin. Or something. I definately don't understand this bit. If this was the case then Madame would be the world's most original sinner. But then it's not really original sin because god isn't god and death isn't death and it's really partical physics. Or something. Dust is a Good Thing - but only if religious types aren't allowed to mess with it. I think that's the message at the end of the story. Which is nice. If you're an atheist and like things dusty.

Ho and hum. Very. Quite.

I was planning to read Winkie next but I'm worried that it might be too difficult for a Bear of Small Brain who can't understand dust. Perhaps I'll just prop it up over me and secretly hibernate. shhhhhh. Don't tell Madame.

Back again

Busy times = neglected bear = neglected blog :o(

Right. On to cheery things.

And it don't get more cheery than a new Biscuit album on the horizon - this time next week CSI Ambleside should be on its way to my fuzzy little paws. Causing joy and happiness. And maybe dancing.

Until then we'll have to amuse ourselves with a bit of online radio.

TV junkies can mock but we love our radio in this house. Did try one of those DAB radios a couple of years ago. Hum. Not quite as wonderful as we'd heard. I'm sure that the whole thing is genius but the only way we could get a signal was if Madame stood on a chair and held the radio up to the top of the window. A lovely Statue of Liberty effect but not really practical. Apparently. She does like to moan.

So we get the computer and - woohoo - there's Listen Again - oooooo, now Madame can have a life AND never miss an episode of The Archers. Hum.

No. Not going to make any jokes about The Archers. I've seen The Archers message board. Some of the scariest people on the interknit hang out there. One wrong word - you wake up with a llama's head on your pillow and the threat that Lynda Snell's voice is last thing you'll ever hear. *shudder*

Some good stuff on BBC7 and when they've run out of episodes of Round The Horne and Old Harry's Game we pop over to the OTR Network for some old time Lux Radio Theatre fun. Because sometimes we just need the sound of Marlene Dietrich selling soap flakes to get us through the day.

Not much time for music radio. Used to listen to a bit of Radio 2. The bits with Radcliffe & Maconie in them.

But now we have AOL radio to play with. Hours of fun. Read about it in Word magazine. Article on internet radio. Haven't had a chance to try any of the other recommendations yet.

Too busy playing with all the AOL options. How to chose? And how could you not love a site that offers a radio station that plays nothing but klezmer music, an All Mariah Carey station and channels with themes like Love Stinks - songs of heartache and disgust.

Just time for one more cheery thing - Joshua Allen Harris's inflatable plastic bag polar bear (as seen on BoingBoing) -

Mulled bear

Deck the house with bits of muffin

Tralala la lalala
Wrap the bear in lots of tinsel

Dededede dede de

It's fun! fun! fun! Until you get caught doing it and have to spend the rest of the evening in the naughty corner while someone else hoovers up the bits of shredded tinsel and crumbled muffin.

Ok. So I got a bit overexcited at the weekend. But I had fun.

We struggled through the wind and sleet to attend Mr Flynn's birthday party. I say "we struggled". Obviously I was wrapped up safely and warmly in a nice bag. Madame and Nomi did the struggling and got all soppy wet.

They got dried out and ate sausage rolls and stuff on sticks while I got on with the important business. I played Hide Behind The Cushion and Run Up And Down and Roll About On The Floor. Mr Flynn's younger brother Mr Theo expressed a polite interest in my nose and buttons.

Mr Flynn received some very lovely presents including a pair of froggy wellingtons and an wol owl hat. But my favourite was the big yellow dumper truck. I would love a big yellow truck. You know. If someone would like to buy me one.

And then on Sunday evening we did Decorating The Tree. Yay! And to make it even more special we listened to The Cinnamon Bear. It was the first time I'd heard of Paddy O'Cinnamon. It was some good old time fun! An every day tale of naughty pirates, evil witches, crazy quilt dragons and things that throw mud. What more could you want? Oh. Really! I suppose ...

Must go. Busy week for Madame. And next week - aaaaaarrrrrgggghhhh - preparing to visit The Cats.

Bell, book, and tealight

I'm not totally convinced by this Fatigue stuff. It would explain the tired and achy. But? A sudden desire to knit socks while listening to The Navy Lark. It's either a cry for help or she's possessed. Possessed by an 85 year old woman. That's my guess.

I'm keeping a close eye. I've put all my own work to one side. The first hint of a spam fritter or an interest in Arthur Askey and I'll spring into action.

back, after this message from our sponsor ...

Madame has been unwell and hanging about the house. I had stuff to do. Work on my moustache. Manic Street Preachers' lyrics to deconstruct. More holiday tales to blog.

Instead. Sit about being supportive and sympathetic.

Oh. The. Joy.

And yet. Old time radio fun! Yay!!

I think I've mentioned before that we are big vintage radio fans. Sometimes we get lucky and there will be something good on BBC Radio 7. Maybe some episodes of Paul Temple. And it's always bona to catch a bit of Round the Horne.

But Madame not well. Big comfy Radio Noir marathon required.

The Saint. Vincent Price as Simon Templar - sounding strangely gothic while blondes and gangsters shoot it out around him. Some of the episodes end with a sweet little lecture from Mr Price on love and peace and tolerance. Jolly decent chap.

Only seem to be a few surviving episodes of Dr Morelle but they are worth listening to for the sheer breathtaking grumpiness. Imagine The Man Who Came To Dinner fighting crime on the mean streets of Kensington and Chelsea. Makes that Morse bloke look like "Rebecca of Sunnybrooke Farm". Wonder as his dippy assistant Miss Frayle refuses to brain him with a paperweight. Gasp as she fails to fill a misogynistic taxi driver full of lead. A classic grouchy afternoon comfort.

We've just made a start on The Falcon ... "brought to you by Gem Blades - the blades that help you avoid five o'clock shadow ... the Falcon ... always ready with a hand for oppressed men and an eye for repressed women!" Quite. Oooooooooo, it's all so butch. Cough. Yeah, dollface. Real manly.

Meh. But she's feeling a bit better. Thinks she'll be back at work tomorrow. So back to the grind for me.

Sigh. So - The Manic Street Preachers. "Autumn Song". Is it their attempt to get in touch with their inner Trinny & Suzanna? Shudder. Are lyrics - which appear to be saying "What have you done to your hair, woman? Look, just stick it in some bunches, slap on some make up, and go out and ... er ... jump in a pile of leaves/play conkers/do something autumnal" - really going to be enjoyed by women up and down the land? Or are the Manics going to be responsible for a rash of door slamming and face slapping? Or is it a very clever comment on the October Revolution and the lessons that can still be learned from a study of Socialist economic theory?

Yup. Back to the grind.

Thing I think I heard on the radio today

"Lawyers are like fat cats waiting to be squeezed"