Marcel Marceau

I see that Marcel Marceau has died. The man who revived mime as an art form - or rather the man who is to blame for the revival of it was 84 years old.

I must admit that though he was pretty much a household name, I have never seen him perform on TV or anywhere else. He may have been better than street mimes, but it's his fault they are there. He made 12 films including Barbarella with Hanoi Jane. I don't recall seeing him in that, but I have watched the movie, so I guess I can say I've seen him perform.


Sinister, not funny.

I have never understood the appeal of mime. I appreciate that it is very clever - or at least that it can be, but to my mind it is also rather boring and inherently too creepy to be fun. Very much like clowns in a circus, there is something generally too deranged about it for me to find mime entertaining.

Marcel Marceau

I see that Marcel Marceau has died. The man who revived mime as an art form - or rather the man who is to blame for the revival of it was 84 years old.

I must admit that though he was pretty much a household name, I have never seen him perform on TV or anywhere else. He may have been better than street mimes, but it's his fault they are there. He made 12 films including Barbarella with Hanoi Jane. I don't recall seeing him in that, but I have watched the movie, so I guess I can say I've seen him perform.


Sinister, not funny.

I have never understood the appeal of mime. I appreciate that it is very clever - or at least that it can be, but to my mind it is also rather boring and inherently too creepy to be fun. Very much like clowns in a circus, there is something generally too deranged about it for me to find mime entertaining.

Autumn's here!

It's dark this morning, and windy. Half an hour ago it was raining so hard that I couldn't see across the street.

I want to go back to bed.

Autumn's here!

It's dark this morning, and windy. Half an hour ago it was raining so hard that I couldn't see across the street.

I want to go back to bed.

To brighten a dull Monday morning

This odd little veggie art site courtesy captainweasel. It is Jim Bob's purpose in life to bring the stranger parts of the web to our attention. Completely work friendly and very clever; I thought that those of you on my friends list who are not on captainweasel's might appreciate a sight of it.

It is a bit of fun and colour on a dull day!

I think the orange told a filthy joke to some prudish friends...

To brighten a dull Monday morning

This odd little veggie art site courtesy captainweasel. It is Jim Bob's purpose in life to bring the stranger parts of the web to our attention. Completely work friendly and very clever; I thought that those of you on my friends list who are not on captainweasel's might appreciate a sight of it.

It is a bit of fun and colour on a dull day!

I think the orange told a filthy joke to some prudish friends...

Trench coat horror

There’s nothing quite like a summer without wearing coats to make you forget just how hot it can get in London when you have to wear one. Standing in the rain at Whetstone this morning, wearing my elderly and very venerable trench coat I was buffeted by early autumn wind and rain – there was even dragon breath in the less tempestuous moments. Unfortunately, once on the tube, or at least the section south of East Finchley where the line goes underground, the temperatures are still summer balmy.

When I got to Victoria I was in full wilt mode and rather too warm. I am now going to have to rediscover the method of keeping cool in the random weather period that is autumn, when it can be summer one day and winter the next and the temperatures are all over the shop.

Despite all my good intentions¹ earlier in the year, I still haven’t shrunk enough (probably even at all) to be able to make best use of my snazzy leather jacket, which I can still only wear open (or buttoned up if I don’t care to breathe and don’t mind watching the occasional button shearing off and embedding itself in the nearest wall²).

I see that it has gone sunny outside now. That suggests a nice, warm journey home.

¹I suppose there is a quote about the road to hell that I could insert here. On the positive side, being so unfit I should probably have to hitchhike on it and people are notoriously bad at picking up hitchers these days.

²Or more entertainingly, if more worryingly, embedding itself shuriken-like in some innocent passer by.

Trench coat horror

There’s nothing quite like a summer without wearing coats to make you forget just how hot it can get in London when you have to wear one. Standing in the rain at Whetstone this morning, wearing my elderly and very venerable trench coat I was buffeted by early autumn wind and rain – there was even dragon breath in the less tempestuous moments. Unfortunately, once on the tube, or at least the section south of East Finchley where the line goes underground, the temperatures are still summer balmy.

When I got to Victoria I was in full wilt mode and rather too warm. I am now going to have to rediscover the method of keeping cool in the random weather period that is autumn, when it can be summer one day and winter the next and the temperatures are all over the shop.

Despite all my good intentions¹ earlier in the year, I still haven’t shrunk enough (probably even at all) to be able to make best use of my snazzy leather jacket, which I can still only wear open (or buttoned up if I don’t care to breathe and don’t mind watching the occasional button shearing off and embedding itself in the nearest wall²).

I see that it has gone sunny outside now. That suggests a nice, warm journey home.

¹I suppose there is a quote about the road to hell that I could insert here. On the positive side, being so unfit I should probably have to hitchhike on it and people are notoriously bad at picking up hitchers these days.

²Or more entertainingly, if more worryingly, embedding itself shuriken-like in some innocent passer by.