Monday, 3 August 2015

Caro Lines - The curious blog of Caroline Gold: Conspiracies And Kathy Mitchell

Caro Lines - The curious blog of Caroline Gold: Conspiracies And Kathy Mitchell: Afternoon thoughts. (May resemble displacement activity AKA procrastination, indicate a Long Lunch etc.) A friend on Facebook posted an ar...

Conspiracies And Kathy Mitchell

Afternoon thoughts. (May resemble displacement activity AKA procrastination, indicate a Long Lunch etc.)
A friend on Facebook posted an article by a Conspiracy Theorist which had the audacious post semi-colon question in it's title - Chaos or Conspiracy? Turns out - wait for it - YES! - It's a conspiracy *Phew!. Other way would be no fun. Such is the joy of Facebook links. The poster/sharer, as a pragmatic and regular chap posted it for ridicule but I have, however, seen more amateurish things served as an OMG fact. Funny how the believers think of themselves as the sceptics?
Got me thinking. It was either that or working!

 My dad always said that War when you were inside it was, Chaos and patterns are attributed to it afterwards and things presented as though organised and to plan.
History is written.
Conspiracy theorists (the authors) are like fictional writers working with fact. Using what already exists they have to take the events, make it a plot, give it a narrative, make it look organised. Thing is it's a bit like writers on EastEnders trying to macramé past characters and plots into later ones and making them seem connected. Sometimes you just have to crowbar in the improbable and hope for the best. One needs however an audience who have already entered into a contract of disbelief. When it gets tricky and ludicrous like when the actual people who did the 7.7 attacks were ACTORS duped into thinking it was a film (The 9/11 truthers believe ALL these things are False Flags and the explanation for every terrorist event is quite a miracle to behold) Some here will post the first sighting of the gospel according to apologist. Seriously the details are the best.
The Conspiracy Theory Customers however are like we are and will not give up or criticise Eastenders Kathy Mitchell's return from the dead, we will accept the explanation and enjoy the outcome.. We do like her so okay, far-fetched, lets just move over that part and get on with the whole story. Christmas will be good.

When Conspiracy jockeys try and sell it to the sensible it all goes wrong. these people due to their need and desire to believe, their faith in their paranoia (or cynicism) and hate create complicated Pretzels of logic and present them as though they are plain rolls. They do not realise how far they have gone down the rabbit hole if they believe, if they don't, oh well, it's a game and you are a counter.
They will never see sense because they don't want to, it is no fun (and stops sometimes a politically mischievous game) or, in the case of The Moon Landings, or Lizard people, some film reality with them as special that they find more feasible than the boring and pathetic human truth.
Sometimes it's just a way of deflecting focus from something else more unpleasant, often to do with ourselves or those close. Bit like the reason we watch Eastenders on Christmas day.

Thursday, 11 June 2015

Eulogy For the Undead, Dead Good

RIP Christopher Lee
- wonderful man, so glad he lived long and prospered playing high status charismatic master villains, being a war hero and thoroughly impressive dude (the acting really being the least of it) He was just such an unlikely and wonderful person to grace these shores. I imagine the Hammer Horror-peoples heavenly jokes about the irony of them being the ones who wind up in heave...n. Lee is the biggest contrast, however as in real life he is their dark lord reversed in a contrast as extreme, if not more so, than the Star Trek 'Alternate-Universe' bearded 'evil' versions of Spock and Kirk, which of course, were still, all fictional.
I always thought of Lee as a loveable kitsch icon. In his and my later life I was delighted not only could I enjoy him sans irony, I could marvel at his added excellent-ness. By the time he died he had enjoyed acclaim and received respect beyond those of us who loved camp, unscary glorious technicolour high point in fi the TV programming of our childhood.(Along with Carry On - the crossover in 'Screaming' being perfection) Thing is, truth being strange, the chap was in real life improbably enough actually brilliant and brave enough to do what any of his baddies could have done (with the same diabolical aid), Lee was actually a card carrying 'goodie' in real life as extreme, practiced, erudite and accomplished as many of his high villains.
So as he arrives, sweeping in front of all the posh and important dead at the welcoming committee, is an impeccably turned out Peter Cushing, his high forehead gleaming, his hair swept back, his impeccably tailored velvet jacket and lace collar immaculate, they shake hand and hug "Well, well well Chris old feller, I always expected you to wind up downstairs heheheheh!" Lee takes a sip of some welcome refreshment handed to him.
"Tell al the Hollywood welcoming people and so forth to give my friend and I some time to catch up eh?
Whereupon they wander off together to a bookish wood panelled, clock ticking, candle lit gentlemen's study with comfy chairs, a decanter and a globe to take snuff and talk long into the night, so okay...THIS is this is what I would like to think.

The point being...
Having now expressed, my fondness and best wishes in regard to his passing, my happiness at his good innings and a life well lived. Taking into account the humour and good nature of the man himself. I say I in all due respect to the man and his fans and the online clipboard carrying critics - please do not hassle me over my affectionate, if irreverent impulse to post this picture, drink a toast and say-

'He'll be back" '

Friday, 27 February 2015

RIP Leonard Nimmoy. Spock is gone. The dream must live on.

It's death Jim...
Not just a loss of our generations childhood past but of the way the future was. An optimistic primary coloured, good natured one.
Four more centuries to go to get back to 1966.
Most of all though, Star Trek was a celebration of friendship, good fellowship and tolerance; a spirit that makes it's mythology so beloved and part of the collective baby-boomer psyche. That, and the flawed and warm charisma of the stars. Even their kitsch and ludicrous musical styl
ing's and other eccentric personal endeavours are/were charming. All of it life, affirming, positive; harmless. The stuff of love and gentleness, joy and smiles. The past is another country, the future another universe. the spirit of (the) enterprise the quest for modernity and hope is what will transport us beyond what we are to what we could be. As for now we have worse that Klingons within and are light years away from being acceptable to the United Federation Of Planets. We still have time though. We must not lose our way and should always endeavour to go boldly.

Wednesday, 30 July 2014

Julie Burchill Absolute Cult *****

There are very few things in this life I have any credible authority to comment on, among what remains are these: Speed Cameras located between W1 and Hertsmere; writing/ producing/watching Comedy plays at Edinburgh Fringe (specifically at ...The Gilded Balloon), having a laugh, farting about, pets, Ice cream and my friends.

Last night I was lucky enough to enjoy an embarrassment of riches concerning and involving some favourite folk on rare night off from reclusive snuggling. I went Tim Fountain's play ABSOLUTE CULT, about Julie Burchill. It being the London preview (often a Beta test performance) Julie herself was told not to go (telling Julie not to leave Brighton in the summer is a bit like telling George Galloway to miss a Barmitzvah at The King David Suite).

What a treat. First of all I already knew Lizzie Rroper, her play Peccadillo Circus was in the next theatre to my play Clinically Famous in Edinburgh 2006. We had a sort of 'sonic war' over sound systems (Her show began after mine with the grand march from Aida, just as my character, in The Priory got to the sad bit). Like all the best Hollywood movies, such beginnings lead to great respect and friendship, happy endings and lovely frocks.

I have never been to see a play about someone I actually know in real life (nor about events that I witnessed) I never met Hamlet, but had I met him, I think it would be irrelevant to ignore the words and point out that he actually spoke in Danish. This is a play, not an impersonation. Nobody can really get the bizarre 'Evil Toy Cat' timbre of the eponymous one's actual voice. Astoundingly for someone who has not met her (I said to Lizzie 'oh come on you must have studied lots of film', she had not) Lizzie was brilliant, she got the essence of Julie, there is a reason for this. Despite the actors professional talent there is something similar about the two women themselves, a naughty, honest impish, this-is-me, sense of fun and working class, ideas above their station, outrageous smartarse talent and go-for-it confidence. Both have a wicked sense of humour, can laugh like drains and I feel like I would have smoked with either (or both) in the loos at school. This is not something I can say of all the artists and writers one meets. Both of them bring out the worst in me. I found myself making an audacious and dangerous joke to Lizzie about a dead friend, it was a test, she passed. She knew I did it I irreverent love They both love animals too. What Lizzie (and the direction) managed to achieve was to portray a 'reckless parody' without it being a parody. Julie is always in control, lizzie as Julie was always in control (unlike the Big Brother product discussed in the play, it is all on their own terms.

Julie is very comfortable in her own skin, similarly lizzie after so much experience, and much of it, self deprecatingly as herself is up close comfortable on stage. This intimacy and relaxed atmosphere made it all feel less stagey and we all felt guests in Julies flat. Julies own rhetorical little devices involve the audience as she does her friends. this is a person who criticises the awful but loves the ordinary. Woman of the people, the audience. The theatre in The Gilded Balloon it will be in should be perfect for this. It is my own personal favourite venue in Edinburgh, Having put on two plays there I think it is perfect for intimate theatre and not just stand-up, comfy and three BARS. Go and see this show and make a day of it

The play itself was about very recent events I was privy to and I have decided to leave the reviewing to the reviewers in Edinburgh. I do not wish to spoil anything by sharing any content or details, if you want to know what it is like, what happens, pay and go and see it, it is all in the script, the direction, the performance and all that happens LIVE. This is something that one person will love and another might hate, bit like Julie really. Some reviewers will be opinionated, some will have agenda's. Edinburgh isn't about safe, it's about sampling and snorting lines, even if they are of dialogue.

For myself, I had a wonderful evening of warm weather and company, hanging out with Jim Owen and my beloved buddy Amelia Ayewan who donated a headdress to the production (like the one she gave Julie) Tim Fountain even put her name in the script, which is fitting as Julie would give credit in person if we were really there and it was actually her with that hat; the playwright knows his subject. Still it's a feather in Amelia's cap (I HAD to say that) It will be some true glamour in a festival of low production values...oh and a lovely frock too, as I said at the outset.

Along with 'us lot' were Peter York, finally meeting lovely Julian Corckle and seeing after ages Jenny Éclair, who is another one of those people who is just the same person always and a great bird. I noticed she and I laughing at the same bits and to the same extent. She knows Lizzie like I know Julie. There is much crossover it seems.

Finally, and this I did say to the eponymous cult in a private message "Lovely night, great people, and a line that will offend and alienate the oh-so-serious Scots in EDINBURGH - which I think would delight you" Yup...there's gonna be kerfuffle and offence - BRING IT ON!

Hate it, love it, see it. Then have an argument in the bar afterwards xxx

Wednesday, 2 July 2014

  Why ROLF never made me ROFL

In the old days, in the 1970's, clean, middle-of-the-road family light entertainment, it was all about Variety - a variety of different kinds of child sexual predator.

I hate to bang on about the fact that I heard about Rolf nearly a year before the rest of you due to a curious connection, but, I kept the secret, it was a litigious affair, and besides, this is the thing. I DID NOT completely BELIEVE IT. As time passed I did. I set up a 'Google Alert' so that I got any news on the matter first by email. He was to do with numerous of my greatest childhood (and current) hobbyhorses: Cartoons, Swimming, Animals and Art. Thing is I always hated his schtick. but it simply came along with him in a time when very mannered presenters and odd TV people were in vogue. I hated all of the forced personae and routine of party tricks that comprised the Rolf product'. I think there is something of the 'Product' about all these Yew-tree blokes: Saville, DLT, That prick from it's a Knockout who would wheeze and laugh WHICH even as a child I found annoying, unprofessional and affected. I also thought he seemed, given the lame display he was narrating, somewhat 'easily pleased'. It's the falseness, Stewart Hall wasn't corpsing like Pet and Dud used to which WAS hilarious, because THEY WERE and it was UTTERLY REAL..

I stayed up later than any other kids I knew and liked the properly funny people better. he NEVER made me laugh except when at some post modern point we laughed at him and then he came to Glastonbury. Let's face it though, the only thing he really had a talent for was Art. Unlike the genuine and magnificent eccentrics and talents like Kenneth Williams and all the other great creative characters of the day). These people do not really represent light entertainment or comedy they all seem to be people I never found likeable in the absence of what they did. Brucie, Tarbuck, Game show hosts generally except for Monkhouse and Wogan. A whole load of DREADFUL MEN on TV that I tolerated for they were ubiquitous. There is something fishy about artifice posing as personality. Rolf got under the wire a bit more than most because he had a serious hobby (Art) which made up for his terrible 'music', also he would, on those public information films about swimming (He would do programmes in pools with kids in costumes, I thought it was weird but then Rolf was always a Renaissance cobber, 'Didg', wobbleboard, artist, singer) In this advert after being all Rolf about the whole thing in a pool, he then looked to camera pulled a serious face and delivered a safety message. Saville too made safety public information films broadcast at prime-time ad breaks, for Seatbelts and (incredibly enough) Nonce-awareness too I believe? These 'uncles' making public safety films warning people of dangers to kids, were, hazards themselves.

HOWEVER, where Rolf really got under our skin was Animal Hospital. This is true for me and I merely assume the same for many others. I think in retrospect, the thing that now annoys me the most are not the songs, the chutzpah, the painting The Queen programme, like the most worthy man in the nation. She of course LIKED HIM, everyone does when he wanted them to) But the thing that really gets to me, where he got under the wire and I trusted him (and I bet even the queen loved him because of Animal Hospital) is remembering him tear up and cry when a beloved pet was put down. I think he was genuine, he does love animals, but he made us love him, through them.

Nobody it turns out ever really liked Savile (and he was, to be fair, the Stalin of paedophiles) but everyone loved Rolf, or liked him, or were indifferent. Much fewer people disliked him. Blimey, I wonder if he is going to prison? ROLF HARRIS. An Australian who came HERE to be a convict. It would be, alas, his funniest gag. Never once made me laugh when I was supposed to.