Archive for February, 2009


Two Scary Women and Sweet Caroline…

Ok, lets do the last bit first as it seems about right for me.

I’m back…I’m achy and I’m held to gether with, wait for it….


No, really, staples. I daren’t go near anything with a magnet in.

It’s been a good many years since I was an in-patient at a hostipal and my Bod, I have been so very impressed by Caroline ward at St. George’s Hostipal. It’s spotlessly clean. The nursing staff don’t just know exactly what they’re doing, they are cheerfull, helpfull, pleasent and make the stay as enjoyably possible – seriously, if I hadn’t been fretting about my moggies I’d have happily stayed there a couple more days. Even the wonderful woman who cooks and serves tea and whose name I have unforgivably forgotton is perfect for her role – so much happiness.

I know not all NHS places are like this, but I count myself bloody lucky I was in Caroline ward and I’d like to publically thank all the nurses, Doctors, anxcilleries, and well, everyone there for just being so wonderful.

To be honest it does put things a little more in perspective. I was in a weard with 6 beds. In one was someone needing a by-pass, in two, he said trying not to sound like a ‘Bullseye’ announcer, was a gent who has cancer and was only in for one night before going home, in three, an elderly gent with blood clots all over the place. In four, well…I don’t know exactly what was wrong with him, but the poor man was suffering. In 5, a nice Scots chap who kept having the most polite heart attacks…

So you see, I’m lying there, drain sticking out of me, finger by the morphine release button (wicked thing that…) and I’m hearing the odd moan of pain, or fear. It put it into perspective for me. I was just having a lung biopsy – simple, easy, fairly pain free – and with added staples. These other guys, well…there but for the grace of Aunt Flo go I… Count your blessings folks, because sometimes we simply don’t know just how lucky we are.

Now then…the ‘Scary Woman’ part of this blog entry. And its incredibly frustrating too.

I was waiting on Tuesday afternoon for transport home, which had been delayed and I was asked to shift out of my bed and wait in the ‘Day Room’ – Lots of chairs, TV that only shows one channel etc. Anyway, something happened that was against nature itself. In the room were two women, one of whom was waiting for a bed to come free. Her sister, Jackie, and I struck up a conversation whilst Jo had to pop off and talk medical stuff – and thanks to the wonders of modern, disposable telly, Jackie discovered the…er… ‘Joy’ of World Thumb Wrestling, or whatever it’s called. This may have damaged her mind, if I’m honest, but both women decided to get their own back by praising Jessica Fletcher, Death’s Champion from Murder She Wrote.

Actually, I owe Jackie an apology. You see, when Jo came back and we all started to natter, Jo revealed that shes a mad Doctor Who fan…as well as all sorts of other stuff. As a result we started bantering back n forth and poor Jackie, well…I just feel I was unintentionally very rude then, so I apologise for that.

Jackie, also, likes Who. And this is where I have to stop and complain about how unatural these things are. I’ve said this before, but Doctor Who is for small, sad little dweebs like me. It is not for consumption by witty, attractive, intelligent women who can hold one hell of a funny conversation about Davison’s vegetable or whatever. It is, quite frankly, scary.

Stop it. It’s not big and it’s not clever. And no, I’m not talking about Davison’s vegetable.

I had about 2 hours of great (cats just jumpec omn my lap – things could get wobbly) fun, conversation and laughter.

Then it was all cruelly taken away as Jo n Jackie had to go to Jo’s bed and get settled in and my transport shortly arrived after.

Want to know whats even worse? Jo, whom I admit to being slightly smitten with, is a huge Ultravox fan also.

Life, thou art cruel.

Still, she’s got the blog addy. My email addy. My phone number. Lists of podcasts Ive done…..

There’s no excuse, dya here me?

Unless Im far too dweebish for modern Doctor Who Fans of the female woman persuasion. At which point I shall just jump into my greatcoat and mock.


That was me.

Doing mocking.



heh…sorry, couldn’t resist the title, lol.

Ok then, news for burglers. I’ll be somewhat quiet for about the next week as I’m into hostipal to have a lung biopsy. Now, I have asked for the bit of lung back – they’ve refused. So I’ve asked for a receipt. Look, I’m going to be leaving there a bit of lung less then when I went in so I want official proof!

I think they may look at my head whilst they’re at it, lol.

If anyone wants to visit, I’ll be in St. George’s Hostipal, Caroline Ward, in Tooting, London apparently, from Sunday until either Tuesday or Wednesday.

I was planning on getting there under my own steam – hence the trip to tavern this month as a test run. However, with the admissions letter came a list of drugs I had to stop taking for 7 days before my op. Included were my anti inflamatories. Now, I thought I ached whilst I was taking them. Without them I am a complete wreck. In bloody agony, can hardly move, let alone walk – managed to ‘have a fall’ the other night which left me struggling to climb up off the floor into an armchair for five minutes. I truly had NO idea just how much good those pills were doing me and just how bad I really am.

To cover for them, the Doc has prescribed some pain killers which, well, they help, but thay aint my Diclofenic, or whatever they’re called, lol.

Anyway, there’s no way I can get there under my own steam now, so the hostipal is sending transport for me – something I was vigorously opposed to until the full effects of the arthritis showed itself. Mind you, trying to get that organised has been a beurocratic nightmare. But spelt better.

One good thing about this hostipal thing is there is a chance I may get a visit from my brother, Michael. Haven’t seen him in years – and before that didn’t see him for 25 years – we have a somewhat disfuctional family, alas. But it would be good to see him again – chalk and cheese we are. I always said to my dad, ‘Look, I do the science fiction, Michael does the football – don’t try to mix up the conversations.’ LOL.

So, into town tomorrow to buy…oh dear…. pyjamas.

I got old.

More when I return next week, and like I say, if your in the area, do feel free to pop in…Ill talk to anyone 🙂



Throwing a Paddy….

I, being of sad mind and body, am currently in the middle of editing down the isolated music scores to State of Decay and Warriors’ Gate. This way I get them in nice, shiny cd format and on my mp3 player.

It will also mean that I have achieved a small, sad, lonely personal ambition in which I have all of series 18’s incidental music – even the couple of cues missed out on the Full Circle cd can now be rescued from the dvd.

I’ve always adored the music to series 18 – and series 18 as a whole, tbh – though I do have….problems with Roger Limb’s stuff for Keeper of Traken. So I now need a new musical ambition and that, ladies, gentlemen and small furry creatures from Alpha Centuri is the isolated music score for the Hitchikers’ Guide to the Galaxy – more paddy Kingsland, heh, heh, heh.  However, talking to young Mark Ayres, this may not be a possibility…I won’t go into reasons here, mainly cos Im not too sure of them as I’d been at the rum – see below post. However, one can hope……

Anyway, if ya wanna see just how badly I was influenced by Paddy Kingsland’s music for series 18 of Dr Who Ill chuck in a couple of mp3’s.

I must stress that these were done at a very early stage of my musical development, done on primative equipment and before I reaklly knew what I was doing. (I still don’t – I make it up as I go along and hope for luck, lol). They were done for The Buccaneer Chronicles on Staggering Stories and were trailers for text stories. Ill include the trailers themselves also so you can see how they fit together. the music was done from memory and again, I stress that this was very early days.

Romana\’s Theme

Vampire Mutations Trailer

Ohica’s Rant by Tony Gallichan

State of Decay – early cover by Tony Gallichan


Those were the days my friends….

Well, a few thingies to mumble about….

Firstly, I popped up to Tavern this Thursday gone. I believe I may have drunk more then my official quota of rum – odd stuff, rum. You just don’t feel drunk with it. I spent a happy evening chatting to old friends, meeting new friends (hello Katya) and introducing said new friends to the joys of suet. Oh and I bumped into Gareth Roberts who I haven’t seen years…we both bemoaned our expanded waistlines. I spent the evening pretending to be Kim Newman – I finally managed to fit back into my rather yummy red waistcoat and found the one pair of trousers that fit me – I dunno, weight gain, weight loss, Ive no idea where I am..I have to buy pyjamas very shortly, buggered if I know what size to get.

It strikes me that the Fitzroy Tavern is the perfect encapsulation of the Mary Hopkins’ song ‘Those Were The Days’. Seriously, if you know Tavern, listen to the song…the lyrics are scarily accurate. Andy Lane has a wonderful theory that there is only ever just one Tavern and people just drift in and out of it as and when they please – a bit like the party in ‘Life, The Universe and Everything’ I suppose..

And now, medical whinging…

Now, you see, this trip to Tavern was an experiment, a test if you like. I wanted to see if I could do it. As you rabble know, my body isn’t at it’s best currently. However, the increased medication is starting to do some good, it seems. I’m walking better for a start. I admit, Friday after Tavern I ached like no tomorrow – I had, possibly, overdone it a little it seems. However, it was worth it. You see I have to pop up to London shortly to go to St. George’s Hospital in Tooting. Gotta have a biopsy. My CT scans showed my lungs to be like Swiss cheese or, if you like, old school TARDIS walls. With a load of what they call ‘Glass Shatter’ also. Now, this isn’t a biggy – at least, I hope it isn’t…but it might, may possibly just explain and show a root cause for everything if it’s what I think it is.   Sarcoidosis All the symptoms it says I’s quite uncanny. So, I’m hoping thats what it is as it’ll give us a root cause that can be treated.

More nostalgia…

So, back in 2003 I was one of so very many that went slightly nuts at the news that Doctor Who was returning. It’s one hell of a rush, believe me. And one only thinks one can have that sort of happyness – sad though it may well be – once.


You see, as some may know, I’m a bit of a fan of a band called Ultravox. Actually, I’m a bit of an obsessive. Got tons of albums, cds, bootlegs etc.  The band started, I believe back in 73 as ‘Tiger Lilly’ – er, I think…it’s all a bit hazy, lol. After a change in line up at the end of the 70’s they became succesful – a hit with ‘Sleepwalk’ then, of course, ‘Vienna’

Interesting thing that – one gets lost on YouTube…vid after vid after vid… I’ve been an hour browsing, lol.  Anyway,  the band split around 1986 and I never got to see them live. Oh, I’ve seen Midge Ure solo a few times now, but nobody ever thought that Ultravox – the succesful eighties’ line up would ever get back together.

Well, satan is skating to work, it seems. They are back, touring, doing festivals…ya never know, there might even be a studio album. Myself, I’m still doing the happy dance….

Talking of Ultravox…

The blokey chap who first introduced me to the band got in touch over Friendface. For it was you, Simon Dodkins, that showed me some clips from the ‘Monument’ live video that they played on BBC2. You who got me into the band. (its good this, I can blame Dodders for my Ultravox obsession and my dad for my Doctor Who obsession – I need take no responsibility for any of my actions, ahahahahahahahah – Trumpets!). Anyway, it seems that the floodgates have now opened. I went to school with Dodders – and some other old friends have just got in touch – Andrew Le Seelleur and Robert ‘Soggy’ Surcouf – and no, I have NO idea why he was called ‘Soggy’…been a mystery to me for years that has. It’s good to see that some people still remember me, lol.

A mad in the heed cat…

I got another cat. I know, I know, I wasn’t going to have any more, but, well, her owner had died, social services wanted her to be put down, she was being looked after an odd fellow at a dog kennels…I couldn’t say no.

The thing is though..well…shes mad. I’ve called her Poppy because calling a black cat Zulu as she had been named, simply isn’t the done thing. She’s slowley settling in…very chatty, very anti my other 5 cats…and very hissy and growly – I’ll be fussing her one moment with her chirruping and  purring, the next moment she’s growling and frankly putting my hands in severe danger of being eaten… I think shes had a bit of a rough time of it, poor lil thing, so some tlc is needed…

Ok, thats that for now then

Oh, and I’ll be giving my E-Space comments shortly



A Shameful Cousin, 6 of 1, 192 of the other…

Juliette Gallichan is my Cousin-in -law. She married a son of my Uncle Graham.

The woman is a toadying, brown-nosing, power hungary, corrupt official in the States of Jersey. She stood down as a Deputy there to stand for Constable of St. Mary (an archaic post) – and was quoted that she had done it to get more power.

She does what she’s told by the ruling oligarchy, votes how shes instructed and frankly has no mind of her own.

She is a disgrace to our family.

Her latest instructions concern Senator Stuart Syvret.

Syvret is a thorn in the Oligarchy’s side. He refuses to play ball and – horror of horrors – insists on telling the public the truth. He’s been a tireless campaigner on behalf of all those who were abused in Jersey as children and has pointed out a lot of things the public would never know about if it were left to the local media – which is ridgedly controlled.

The latest thing concerns a tragic death at the Jersey General Hospital. I won’t go into details here as I’d only be copying that which is written on Syvret’s blog – the link to his blog is in the side column…I strongly urge you all to go there and have a long, hard read. Your eyes will be opened and hopefully you’ll add your voice for justice.

Anyway, the Minister in charge of Health and Social Services was due to have a session of taking questions without notice – in other words he’d have no time to prepare a scripted answer. And Syvret is the person they most fear in that chamber.

Yesterday, Syvret recieved a phone call from my beloved Cousin to inform him that she was using an archaic and out of date piece of legislation to effectivly shut him up and possibly remove him from the States on suspension. Now, the woman simply doesn’t have the brains to come up with that herself – shes acting on behalf of the Oligarchy who are terrified that Syvret will hit on something they can’t deny – forcing resignations.

Juliette Gallichan is a shamefull disgrace to our Family name and I distance the rest of the Family from her. And yes…she will be getting a phone call from me. I’d do it in person, however, theres a lot of water between me and Jersey. Lets see if I can reduce her to tears, shall we? And before you wonder if I’m being too harsh, again I say read Syvret’s blog. Then decide.


Syvret was not suspended will probably be at the next States’ sitting. I would caution the States as to how far they go – the people of Jersey will only take so much….

Be Seeing You..

So, onto more sad things. It’s one of those blog entries, alas. Patrick McGoohan died a short while back. I always loved The Prisoner. It’s very much a product of it’s time and McGoohan is so arch in it as to be fitted in Portmerion across one of the little roads they have there. He had a bizarre, barking way of speach which at times was….tricky to decipher. I remember watching a fan production called ‘The Men From ITC’. Im sure you can fathom what it was about from the title, lol. Anyway, in this, Jeff Randell gets killed and has to choose one person to speak to as a ghost. To Marty Hopkirk’s disbelief, he choses McGoohan. ‘Of all the people you could have chosen, you choose the one person no one will understand!!’

The Death of the Dalek Supreme

John Scott Martin was a true gentleman. I met him in Clacton-On-Sea at the second Space Mountain event (lovely cons those, run by lovely people). Softly spoken, didn’t want to be any trouble to anyone – just as well, I was stewarding and had already had to run out into the rain to find John Levene a sarnie and as we all know, my hair and rain simply do NOT mix, lol. JSM was a Dalek operator from the early sixties, I believe, as well as playing other monster roles – and that of a doomed security guard in Robot. He was also 192 in the original 118118 adverts.

Hart Taken

Yet another death, that of Tony Hart. I used to watch him on Vision On – he hardly ever spoke on that show, but produced memorable images. I remember the ‘Dance of the Daleks’ – it’s on the Genesis of the Daleks dvd in one of the documentaries. That was a childhood memory that I was sure I’d imagined…from around the time of Planet of the Daleks, if I’m not mistaken. Hart created the original Blue Peter ship and continued to encourage kids to create their own art for years to come. Another one who’ll be missed…

No caption needed.

No caption needed.


It finaly happened. Cheney turned into Dr Strangelove. I couldn’t help but pee myself laughing at him whilst watching Obama’s inauguration. Scarily, he looks like the Prez from Strangelove also….I had visions of him, during a particular bit of Obama’s speach, disagreeing so violently that he’d rise from the chair shouting ‘Mein Fuhrer, I can valk!’
Oh the sheer bliss of thaty image will stay with me for a long time….

right, thats it for this one…oh, and Cousin? STOP IT!