Well I watched the daily cv-19 briefing at 5pm and noted that the Government are talking confidently about achieving the Health Secretary’s target of 100,000 tests per day by the end of the month. Hurrah! Except it’s not exactly in terms of actual tests, instead they are now tweaking it to say that they’ll have the capacity to test that number. Ahh. So they’ll have 100,000 cotton buds in stock to take swabs but nowhere near enough nurses and the other medically-trained people to take the tests and process them. It’s not quite the same thing is it?
I’m in awe of the people who are leading the fight against covid-19 in our hospitals and care centres. They aren’t receiving the PPE and testing they need from our bloody Gov’t but they keep working to keep us alive and too many of them are paying the ultimate sacrifice. Never will they be taken for granted again I hope. And let’s not forget our other key workers like postmen, refuse collectors, delivery and transport drivers, retail store workers, teachers and many more who are battling on, keeping essential life still available to us
So here’s the thing. We’ve been watching the BBC’s Springwatch programme from the Sherbourne estate in the Cotswolds. We love its capturing of the nature scene at this most fertile time of the year. The features on the birdlife are especially captivating. But this posting isn’t about the nature; it’s about the bloody BBCness that pervades the programme. It’s like watching a Corbynista nature park. Let me explain…
I bet you’re probably thinking that’s an honest and effective title – just two words to describe all that’s happened to my body shape since those heady slim days in the 70’s. Well I have to admit it’s true. But I did’t think you’d be terribly interested in knowing more about my physique. But I caught sight of another gainer whilst browsing day time tv yesterday. And boy have the timbers been added on.
It sounds like the name of a great salsa band or a new Man United defender. But Rio trailers is actually more prosaic; it’s a posting about two new film trailers for the upcoming Olympic and Paralympic Games produced by the BBC and C4 respectively. I’ve only seen one twice and the other once and I’m spell-bound. No doubt I’ll be sick of them before the events but from this perspective they look fantastic.
It’s an odd title for a posting I grant you but I promise you it’s a real place. In my imagination. A place where annoying tv people with big egos, scant GCSE’s, weird personalities, a misguided sense of their sexual appeal (and occasionally hazy sexuality) and a strange style sense all live. Continue reading
Now I read a decent article today by Grace Dent in the i newspaper. She’s a good writer. And the point of her feature was that we should really applaud that knobhead Jeremy Clarkson, for opening up about his ‘issues’ which led him to punch his production minion. She didn’t really buy his explanation but she admired the fact he was so in tune with his inner feelings. Ah, that sensitivity. So Jezzer.
It’s the autumn so it’s back to the interminable tv blockbusters, Strictly and X Factor. Add another to that list – The Apprentice now with 20 candidates wanting a £250,000 Sugar Daddy which means it’ll probably be 2015 before we find out which of the wannabe semi-rich and nearly famous at any price desperate ones gets the final finger. Sigh. I can’t help thinking that this is yet another programme well past its sell-by date. Like Big Brother it started out as an interesting experiment and has just become a sad parody of itself. And the biggest saddo is bloody Sugar himself. Continue reading