dance away ~

Great Expectations..re-told yet again ~

just home from the Friday matinée of Great Expectations...my blacken fingers came up with a few choice words, after scoffing the usual tuck;

There have been countless adaptations of Great Expectations. Now less than 12 months since the TV feature starring Gillian Anderson as Miss Havisham, Helena Bonham Carter is taking on the role on the big screen..

ham as in spam dahling!

David Lean remains such a giant of British cinema that he completely overshadows this BBC Films’ adaptation of a Charles Dickens’ classic, commissioned to celebrate the bicentenary of the author’s birth.

Lean, who died in 1991 aged 83, had a cast including Alec Guinness (making his full debut as Herbert Pocket) and John Mills (Pip) for his post-war version of Great Expectations (1946), released a year after Brief Encounter.

As if that legacy wasn’t enough, the last film I’d seen before Mike Newell’s new adaptation was... Lawrence of Arabia.

What are the chances of such a double David Lean whammy hitting director Newell, who is most famous for the froth of Four Weddings And A Funeral?

And so, while Great Expectations is good, it’s not great.

Even though the cast includes Harry Potter stalwarts Ralph Fiennes (Magwitch), Helena Bonham Carter (Miss Havisham) and Robbie Coltrane (Mr Jaggers), I doubt it will excite audiences under 12 to go and read Dickens on the back of seeing this in a cinema.

The story of a boy given a life-transforming legacy is slow to get going compared with Lean’s dramatic opening.

Later, there’s plenty of verbal exposition to try to give it some gas, but even from this launch pad the finale lacks an emotional kick.

Naturally, the sets and costumes are good to look at, but even an Oscar-nominated cinematographer like John Mathieson (Gladiator) can’t match Freddie Young’s Lawrence of Arabia standard.

Bettered by Gillian Anderson’s TV version last year, Bonham Carter is recognisably bereft of the outlandish set designs of her Tim Burton movies and the spark of regular co-star Johnny Depp.

Jason Flemyng plays blacksmith Joe Gargery, with David Walliams far too ‘Little Britain’ as Uncle Pumblechuook.

Potential future great Jeremy Irvine is less engaging than he was in either War Horse or Now Is Good – making the romance with hard-hearted Estella (Holliday Grainger) never in danger of frying the screen.

1.5 out of 5

here's the 'daddy' of 'em all...enjoy playmates _   

the Art Collector ~

speaking of his painting,'The Art Collector'  the artist Colin Murray says ..

I began this picture late in November 2011. It was developed after a conversation with a client of mine, an art collector who owns a number of my paintings. He liked the idea of being painted surrounded by pictures and sculptures. As he loves paintings of beautiful women we decided to make feminine beauty the theme for this picture. The space in the picture is imaginary, some of the paintings and sculptures are in his collection whilst others have been adapted by me. We thought it would be fun to have some of the paintings coming to life.

I have sifted through hundreds of images to find the material for this picture. Some of the images have been downloaded from google, others have been scanned in from various art books. And some of them are of sculptures I have photographed myself. My research has taken me to the Victoria and Albert Museum, the British Museum and the Wallace Collection. At least 4 of the images were found on ‘art of the beautiful-grotesque’, this is my favourite fine art blog. 

It is pleasing for me not only that AotB~G has brought enjoyment but has also helped in the inspiration of a new artwork. And it is has in turn brought me enjoyment to see the classic imagery integrated into this great painting ☺

To read more about The Art Collector ~ http://www.colinmurrayart.co.uk/category/blog/

recieved in the morning's post..thank U ~

Round the Horne - Julian & Sandy

    fabulosa!  
    feeling bold ducks..?? 
                                                                                            

Danny the Street..to be had ~

                

Polari/English ; a boy's town chat for the chaps ~

by no means complete..as with all words, their power changes over time, some are used forever, others fall by the wayside but that's wot brings a smile to my face..one with the hand is worth two in the bush, remember beauty is only skin deep, but ugly goes all the way to the bone..strike me pink m8..hahaHa

ajax	nearby (from adjacent?)
basket	the bulge of male genitals through clothes
batts	shoes
bijou	small
bod	body
bold	daring
bona	good
butch	masculine; masculine lesbian
camp	effeminate (origin: KAMP = Known As Male Prostitute)
capello	hat
carts/cartso	penis
carsey	toilet, also spelt khazi
chicken	young boy
charper	search
charpering omi	policeman
cod	naff, vile
cottage	public loo (particularly with reference to cottaging)
cottaging	having or looking for sex in a cottage
crimper	hairdresser
dish	an attractive male; buttocks
dizzy	scatterbrained
dolly	pretty, nice, pleasant
drag	clothes, esp. women's clothes
ecaf	face (backslang)
eek	face (abbreviation of ecaf)
ends	hair
esong	nose
fantabulosa	wonderful
feele	child
fruit	queen
gelt	money
glossies	magazines
handbag	money
hoofer	dancer
jarry	food, also mangarie
kaffies	trousers
khazi	toilet, also spelt carsey
lallies	legs
latty	room, house or flat
lills	hands
lilly	police (Lilly Law)
luppers	fingers
mangarie	food, also jarry
measures	money
meese	plain, ugly (from Yiddish)
meshigener	nutty, crazy, mental
metzas	money
mince	walk (affectedly)
naff	bad, drab (from Not Available For Fucking)
nanti	not, no
national handbag	dole
nishta	nothing, no
oglefakes	glasses
ogles	eyes
omi	man
omi-polone	effeminate man, or homosexual
onk	nose
orbs	eyes
palare pipe	telephone
palliass	back (as in cpart of body)
park	give
plate	feet; to fellate
polari	chat, talk
polone	woman
pots	teeth
riah/riha	hair
riah shusher	hairdresser
scarper	to run off (from Italian scappare, to escape)
scotch	leg
sharpy	policeman
shush	steal (from client)
shush bag	holdall
shyker/shyckle	wig
slap	makeup
strillers	piano
thews	= thighs
trade	sex
troll	to walk about (esp. looking for trade)
vada/varda	see
willets	breasts

here's a love song for tonight..1969

this man had trouble just saying NO..there's nothing more to know!  

across the gr8 devide

Les Maitres Musiciens de Jajouka 1/7 1980

                    

vice versa..the other way round ~

Brain Jones, founder of the Rolling Stones ~

        

murder most foul ~

the daddy of the modern  'murder-ballad' in my humble opion ~

The Knoxville Girl

I met a little girl in Knoxville
A town we all know well
And every Sunday evening
Out in her home I'd dwell
We went to take an evening walk
About a mile from town
I picked a stick up off the ground
And knocked that fair girl down;

She fell down on her bended knees
For mercy she did cry
Oh, Willie dear, don't kill me here
I'm unprepared to die
She never spoke another word
I only beat her more
Until the ground around me
Within her blood did flow.

I took her by her golden curls
And I drug her 'round and 'round
Throwing her into the river
That flows through Knoxville town
Go down, go down, you Knoxville girl
With the dark and roving eyes
Go down, go down, you Knoxville girl
You can never be my bride.

I started back to Knoxville
Got there about midnight
My mother she was worried
And woke up in a fright
Saying, ""Dear son, what have you done
To bloody your clothes so?""
I told my anxious mother
I was bleeding at my nose.

I called for me a candle
To light myself to bed
I called for me a handkerchief
To bind my aching head
Rolled and tumbled the whole night through
As troubles was for me
Like flames of hell around my bed
And in my eyes could see.

They carried me down to Knoxville
And put me in a cell
My friends all tried to get me out
But none could go my bail
I'm here to waste my life away
Down in this dirty old jail
Because I murdered that Knoxville girl
The girl I loved so well.

Note. Based on the old English Ballad of the Wexford Girl
Recorded by The Louvin Brothers ~

also check-out..The Cruel Miller_

Jim Reeves - He'll Have To Go

                    

don't believe a word Mme ~

Molière (Jean-Baptiste Poquelin) was born in Paris on January 15, 1622. His father was one of eight valets de chambre tapissiers who tended the king's furniture and upholstery, so the young Poquelin received every advantage a boy could wish for. He was educated at the finest schools (the College de Clermont in Paris.) He had access to the king's court. But even as a child, Molière found it infinitely more pleasant to poke fun at the aristocracy than to associate with them. As a young boy, he learned that he could cause quite a stir by mimicking his mother's priest. His mother, a deeply religious woman, might have broken the young satirist of this habit had she not died before he was yet twelve-years-old. His father soon remarried, but in less than three years, this wife also passed away. At the age of fifteen, Jean-Baptiste was left alone with his father and was most likely apprenticed to his trade. The boy never showed much of an interest for the business of upholstering. Fortunately, his father's shop was located near two important theatrical sites: the Pont-Neuf and the Hôtel de Bourgogne. At the Pont-Neuf, comedians performed plays and farces in the street in order to sell patent medicines to the crowds. Although not traditional theatre in the strictest sense, the antics of these comic medicine-men brought a smile to Jean-Baptiste's face on many an afternoon. At the Hôtel de Bourgogne--which the boy attended with his grandfather--the King's Players performed more traditional romantic tragedies and broad farces. Apparently, these two theatrical venues had quite an impact on the young Poquelin, for in 1643, at the age of twenty-one, he decided to dedicate his life to the theatre. Jean-Baptiste had fallen in love with a beautiful red-headed actress named Madeleine Béjart. Along with Madeleine, her brother Joseph and sister Genevieve, and about a dozen other young well-to-do hopefuls, Jean-Baptiste founded a dramatic troupe called The Illustrious Theater. It was about this time that he changed his name to Molière, probably to spare his father the embarrassment of having an actor in the family. Molière and his companions made their dramatic debut in a converted tennis court. Although the company was brimming with enthusiasm, none of them had much experience and when they began to charge admission, the results proved disastrous. Over the course of the next two years, the little company appeared in three different theatres in various parts of Paris, and each time, they failed miserably. Several of the original members dropped out of the company during this period. Finally, the seven remaining actors decided to forget Paris and go on a tour of the provinces. For the next twelve years, they would travel from town to town, performing and honing their craft. It was during this period that Molière began to write plays for the company. His first important piece, L'Étourdi or The Blunderer, followed the escapades of Mascarille, a shrewd servant who sets about furthering his master's love affair with a young woman only to have his plans thwarted when the blundering lover inadvertantly interferes. The five-act piece proved quite successful, and a number of other works followed. By the spring of 1658, Molière and his much-improved company decided to try their luck once more in Paris. When they learned that the King's brother, the Duke of Anjou, was said to be interested in supporting a dramatic company which would bear his name, they immediately set about gaining an introduction to the Court. On the evening of October 24, 1658, Molière and his troupe performed for the first time before Louis XIV and his courtiers in the Guard Room of the old Louvre Palace. They made a crucial mistake, however, by performing a tragedy (Cornielle's second-rate Nicoméde) instead of one of their popular farces. The Court was not impressed. Fortunately Molière, realizing their blunder, approached the King at the conclusion of the tragedy and asked permission to perform one of his own plays, The Love-Sick Doctor. The King granted his request, and the play was such a success that the little company--which would thereafter be known as the Troupe de Monsieur--was granted use of the Hôtel du Petit Bourbon, one of the three most important theaters in Paris. The first of Molière's plays to be presented at the Petit Bourbon was Les Précieuses Ridicules or The Pretentious Ladies which satirized Madame de Rambouillet, a member of the King's court who had set herself up as the final judge of taste and culture in Paris. The play proved so successful that Molière doubled the price of admission and was invited to give a special performance for the King. The King was delighted and rewarded the playwright with a large gift of cash, but Molière had made powerful enemies of some of the King's followers. Madame de Rambouillet and her coterie managed to have performances of the play suspended for fourteen days and, in an attempt to drive Molière from the city, eventually managed to have the Petit Bourbon closed down completely. But the King immediately granted Molière use of the Théâtre du Palais Royal where he would continue to perform for the rest of his life. Over the course of the next thirteen years, Molière worked feverishly to make his company the most respected dramatic troupe in Paris. (Eventually, they were awarded the coveted title "Troupe of the King.") He directed his own plays and often played the leading role himself. On February 17, 1673, Molière suffered a hemorrhage while playing the role of the hypochondriac Argan in The Imaginary Invalid. He had insisted on going through with the performance in spite of the advice of his wife and friends saying, "There are fifty poor workers who have only their daily wage to live on. What will become of them if the performance does not take place?" He passed away later that night at his home on the Rue Richelieu. The local priests refused to take his confession, for actors had no social standing and had been excommunicated by the church. Nor would they permit him to be buried in holy ground. Four days later, the King interceded and Molière was finally buried in the Cemetery Saint Joseph under the cover of darkness. Molière left behind a body of work which not only changed the face of French classical comedy, but has gone on to influence the work of other dramatists the world over. The greatest of his plays include The School for Husbands (1661), The School for Wives (1662), The Misanthrope (1666), The Doctor in Spite of Himself (1666), Tartuffe (1664,1667,1669), The Miser(1668), and The Imaginary Invalid (1673).

No soap on the Gentleman's Collar ~

                       

the elevated spirit ~

never trust the stranger with a dodgy line in table manners  ~

 

                                                                                            your good health BrotherMan

Tricky Kid..some time soon ~

Lily, Rosemary And The Jack Of Hearts  ~

The festival was over and the boys were all planning for a fall
The cabaret was quiet except for the drilling in the wall
The curfew had been lifted and the gambling wheel shut down
Anyone with any sense had already left town
He was standing in the doorway looking like the Jack of Hearts.

He moved across the mirrored room "Set it up for everyone" he said
Then everyone commenced to do what they were doin' before he turned their heads
Then he walked up to a stranger and he asked him with a grin
"Could you kindly tell me friend what time the show begins ?"
Then he moved into the corner face down like the Jack of Hearts.

Backstage the girls were playing five card stud by the stairs
Lily had two queens she was hoping for a third to match her pair
Outside the streets were filling up, the window was open wide
A gentle breeze was blowing, you could feel it from inside
Lily called another bet and drew up the Jack of Hearts.

Big Jim was no one's fool, he owned the town's only diamond mine
He made his usual entrance looking so dandy and so fine
With his bodyguards and silver cane and every hair in place
He took whatever he wanted to and he laid it all to waste
But his bodyguards and silver cane were no match for the Jack of Hearts.

Rosemary combed her hair and took a carriage into town
She slipped in through the side door looking like a queen without a crown
She fluttered her false eyelashes and whispered in his ear
"Sorry darling, that I'm late", but he didn't seem to hear
He was staring into space over at the Jack of Hearts.

"I know I've seen that face somewhere" Big Jim was thinking to himself
"Maybe down in Mexico or a picture up on somebody's shelf"
But then the crowd began to stamp their feet and the house lights did dim
And in the darkness of the room there was only Jim and him
Staring at the butterfly who just drew the Jack of Hearts.

Lily was a princess she was fair-skinned and precious as a child
She did whatever she had to do she had that certain flash every time she smiled
She'd come away from a broken home had lots of strange affairs
With men in every walk of life which took her everywhere
But she'd never met anyone quite like the Jack of Hearts.
The hanging judge came in unnoticed and was being wined and dined
The drilling in the wall kept up but no one seemed to pay it any mind
It was known all around that Lily had Jim's ring
And nothing would ever come between Lily and the king
No nothing ever would except maybe the Jack of Hearts.

Rosemary started drinking hard and seeing her reflection in the knife
She was tired of the attention tired of playing the role of Big Jim's wife
She had done a lot of bad things even once tried suicide
Was looking to do just one good deed before she died
She was gazing to the future riding on the Jack of Hearts.

Lily took her dress off and buried it away
"Has your luck run out?" she laughed at him.
"Well I guess you must have known it would someday
Be careful not to touch the wall there's a brand new coat of paint
I'm glad to see you're still alive you're looking like a saint"
Down the hallway footsteps were coming for the Jack of Hearts.

The backstage manager was pacing all around by his chair
"There's something funny going on" he said " I can just feel it in the air"
He went to get the hanging judge but the hanging judge was drunk
As the leading actor hurried by in the costume of a monk
There was no actor anywhere better than the Jack of Hearts.

No one knew the circumstance, but they say it happened pretty quick
The door to the dressing room burst open a Colt revolver clicked
And big Jim was standing there you couldn't say surprised
Rosemary right beside him studying her eyes
She was with big Jim but she was leaning to the Jack of Hearts.

Two doors down the boys finally made it through the wall
And cleaned out the bank safe it's said that they got off with quite a haul
In the darkness by the riverbed they waited on the ground
For one more member who had business back in town
But they couldn't go no further without the Jack of Hearts.

The next day was hanging day the sky was overcast and black
Big Jim lay covered up killed by a penknife in the back
And Rosemary on the gallows she didn't even blink
The hanging judge was sober he hadn't had a drink
The only person on the scene missing was the Jack of Hearts.
The cabaret was empty now a sign said. "Closed for repair"
Lily had already taken all of the dye out of her hair
She was thinking about her father who she very rarely saw
Thinking about Rosemary and thinking about the law
But most of all she was thinking about the Jack of Hearts.

Jack Pudding ~

BEFORE THE CURTAIN

As the manager of the Performance sits before the curtain on the boards
and looks into the Fair, a feeling of profound melancholy comes over
him in his survey of the bustling place. There is a great quantity of
eating and drinking, making love and jilting, laughing and the
contrary, smoking, cheating, fighting, dancing and fiddling; there are
bullies pushing about, bucks ogling the women, knaves picking pockets,
policemen on the look-out, quacks (OTHER quacks, plague take them!)
bawling in front of their booths, and yokels looking up at the
tinselled dancers and poor old rouged tumblers, while the
light-fingered folk are operating upon their pockets behind. Yes, this
is VANITY FAIR; not a moral place certainly; nor a merry one, though
very noisy.  Look at the faces of the actors and buffoons when they
come off from their business; and Tom Fool washing the paint off his
cheeks before he sits down to dinner with his wife and the little Jack
Puddings behind the canvas.   The curtain will be up presently, and he
will be turning over head and heels, and crying, "How are you?"

William Makepeace Thackray _

finally murder in the third degree ~

                    

murder two ~

                     

murder 1 ~

                    

the lady on your arm, is dressed to do ya harm ~

To the uninitiated, Wray & Nephew White Overproof Rum is merely the top-selling high strength rum in the world. In its native Jamaica, however, this crystal-clear rum is legendary.
In the country known for its rum, it is the rum of choice. In fact, it currently accounts for more than 90% of all rum sold in Jamaica.
It is equally enjoyable in an authentic Jamaican rum punch, a Mai Tai, a daiquiri, or in any popular mixer.
It is also the 'secret ingredient' in many proprietary and signature drinks found all over the world..

drink responsibly..yeah right _

Gentlemen Please ~

don't fuck with me!

Joseph Boulogne, Chevalier de Saint-George, was born on Christmas day, 1745, on the French-Caribbean island of Guadeloupe. His mother was a young Senegalese slave of remarkable beauty. Joseph’s father, George de Bologne Saint-George, a descendant of the ancient house of Bologne in Italy, was a wealthy sugar and coffee plantation owner and a former "Gentleman in the King’s Chamber" in the court of Louis the XV, King of France.
Musically Saint George may very well have been the "King of Pop" of his age; militarily he helped prevent what could have been the early collapse of the French Revolution. The vicissitudes of his journey are dramatic: from a young outsider in Paris to the dizzying heights of superstardom in pre-Revolutionary France ("The Famous Saint George") to an utterly tragic end in which a man whose company had once been fought over by royalty and great aristocrats, died alone, unmarried and destitute. In his lifetime Saint George was a an elite musketeer of the King’s Horse Guard; a master-swordsman and Europe’s fencing champion; a composer, violin impresario, and opera director that influenced Mozart; a playboy; and a military hero in the French Revolution—ironically all in an age when slavery was endemic and white superiority was dogma...

&  friends can call me George..

ladies & gentlemen time... if your in the cheap seats better spit out your gum _

kiss me slowly, kiss me quick ~

                    how not to get caught with your hand in the Poor-Box..

                     

& goodnight and good-bye ~

                   

The Shankill Butchers ride tonight
You better shut your windows tight
They're sharpening their cleavers and their knives
And taking all their whiskey by the pint

'Cause everybody knows
If you don't mind your mother's words
A wicked wind will blow
Your ribbons from your curls

Everybody moan
Everybody shake
The Shankill Butchers wanna catch you awake

They used to be just like me and you
They used to be sweet little boys
But something went horribly askew
Now killing is their only source of joy

'Cause everybody knows
If you don't mind your mother's words
A wicked wind will blow
Your ribbons from your curls

Everybody moan
Everybody shake
The Shankill Butchers wanna catch you awake

The Shankill Butchers on the rise
They're waiting 'til the dead of night
They're picking at their fingers with their knives
And wiping off their cleavers on their thighs

'Cause everybody knows
If you don't mind your mother's words
A wicked wind will blow
Your ribbons from your curls

Everybody moan
Everybody shake
The Shankill Butchers wanna catch you
The Shankill Butchers wanna cut you

The Shankill Butchers wanna catch you awake)                  

               

John the Revelator ~

                   

slap & tickle

Meet Me At The River - Stanley Williams - 1975

                 

dancin' with my baby ~

                 

Blind Blake Higgs - Jones Oh Jones

                     

Jones, Oh Jones [Spoken] Yes, friends, and now, from the Royal Victorian Hotel, in Nassau, in the Bahamas, we bring you Blind Blake and his Royal Victorian Calypsos.

Friends, I had a pal by the name of Jones and his idea sure was wrong, I took old Jones for my personal pal, don't you see what Jones has done? Now, Jones, he hang around like a hungry hound, took my woman and left this town. Now I wonder if anybody in here can tell me if you seen old Jones.
Jones, Oh, Jones, boy, you know you can't last long, Jones, Oh, Jones, you better bring my woman back home. Got a four-foot daniel with me , gonna buy me a Gatling gun, If I ever meet you, Jones, Ain't gonna be no use to run Got the high sheriff with me, the undertaker, too --here's a student doctor offered me money for you, I'm going to keep you for myself, keep you dead and buried, Gonna dig you up for fun , sit down and watch the buzzards pick the meat off your bones, Gonna find my weddin' butcher, chop you through and through, chop you into piece just big enough for stewin' , And when I get through, everbody's going to moan, Jones, Oh, Jones.
Jones, Oh, Jones, boy, you know you can't last long, Jones, Oh, Jones, you better bring my woman back home. 'Cause I tried a little gal by the name of Sue, I took her home with me but that gal, she wouldn't do, Tried another gal by the name of May, Took her home with me but that gal, she wouldn't stay, Tried another gal by the name of Minnie, She couldn't love one man because she loves a-plenty, Jones had told me, [doc?] he was my personal pal, That son-of-a-bum went and stole away my gal, I even take him to my place, give him room to stay, But that son-of-a-bum took my gal and run away, I'm running up and down the town, looking for that bum, If I ever meet you, Jones, I'm going to give the buzzards fun, Got the [?] with me, the undertaker, too- Here's a student doctor offered me money for you, I'm going to keep you for myself, keep you dead and buried, Gonna dig you up for fun, sit down and watch the buzzards pick the meat off your bones, Gonna hire my weddin' butcher, chop you through and through, chop you into pieces just big enough for stewin' , And when I get through, everbody's going to moan, Jones, Oh, Jones.
Jones, Oh, Jones, boy, you know you can't last long, Jones, Oh, Jones, you better bring my woman back home. Got a four-foot daniel with me, gonna buy me a Gatling gun, If I ever meet you, Jones, I'm gonna give the buzzards fun, Got the [?] with me, the undertaker, too --here's a student doctor offered me money for you, I'm going to keep you for myself, keep you dead and buried, Gonna dig you up for fun, sit down and watch the buzzards pick the meat off your bones, Gonna hire my weddin' butcher, chop you through and through, chop you into piece just big enough for stewin', And when I get through, everbody's going to moan, Jones, Oh, Jones...ENJOY

on the top of old smoky ~