Michealangelo's David. (Pobably.)

I sometimes help out at a local Hospice Shop which people donate all sorts of stuff too. Recently someone donated a statue of Michealangelo's David, in perfectly formed plaster. One of the lady volunteers thought she would "protect" David's modesty by making him a natty pair of pants. I think she honestly meant it in a respectful gesture as all "His doins" were hanging out, bless her.

talking with ghosts.

Came across this lovely piece of art whilst browsing for John Dee.Cannot speak for its provenance but it feels real to me.

Destination Daleks.

I wondered how they were going to do the second part, to finish the gripping wee Pete Mc Teague vignette on the recent Season #21 bluray boxed set. And here it is, the second part is a comic book and was given away with this month's Doctor Who Magazine.

Albert Einstein.

Hows this for a bit of relativity. Yesterday I watched Genius, a biographical drama on the life and times of Albert Einstein. Came across it on one of my book hauls in the Oxfam Book shop.It being a day off work I watched it through to the end, spending one day, and a psuedo-lifetime in the company of the great man. There are some very powerful performances throughout its long run, not just from the leads, with some characters being recast as they aged.Found it a compelling and interesting (Not always the same thing) watch as it gave new life to so many others in his life, especially his first wife Mileva Maric,a remarkable thinker in her own right and the rock upon which his school of relativity was built. Overlooked during much of his life and sadly ever since he passed. Which leads me to the curious coincidence that is today, the anniversary of his death on 18th April 1955. I heartily recommend a watch. There is much in it that modernity can, er, relate too.

Lux.

Enjoyed this adaption of last seasons story Lux in which The Doctor And Belinda are transformed into animated characters by a God-like being, one of The Pantheon of old Gods making life so difficult for our hero. Its a lovely and experimental conceit, adapted here as a novel by Dave Goss from a screenplay by Russell T Davis. in the episode The Doctor comes crashing through our televisions out into "our" world, into a flat with three Doctor Who fans, who know the whole canon of the show and as such all the details of The Doctor's lives. They also exercise this conceit as best they can given the novel's paperback format, breaking the text wall into vision. It s a bravo attempt at stretching the format and another reason to give the show a big clap on the back for attempting to surprise and entertain. Surely, even the hard to please Gods Of Ragnorok.

The Barney Blues.

(From my Sketchbook.) My older brother Barney would sit on the top window ledge above the lower drain, playing his guitar and singing. Mostly James Taylor, who's work he loved, but also republican folk songs and rebel music to annoy passing army foot parols. They would swear and hurl abuse and threats but this only made him sing louder.

Slow Horses.

I had been in the mood for a little Le Carre and came across this Mick Herron novel instead. Damn, it turned out to be an excellent road taken, as opposed to a road less traveled. Ahem.. I am so glad I did. It was a fantastic read. To learn that there were even more obscure agents than the down-trodden and world weary "secret agents" than those who populate Le Carre#s world.It reads like Baby Raindeer meets Daniel Craig's Bond. Jackson Lambb is a fantastic find, for me. Rather than amalgram of Bondian tropes he represents an altogether more unsettling vision of those who secretly serve the state. And what a state they are in, so to speak. He is marvelously offensive, there is no ego he could not puncture, no faux-concern he would not throw into recycling. I have not seen any of the television series that is based on the books that include and follow this one. Gary Oldman plays him in the television. I can think of no actor better suited, or more capable, of layering the percieved personality with its many contradictions. This is one book you judge by its cover at your own person risk, cause whatever demons that drive this very damaged man will devour you. No one is who they appear to be and nothing is what it seems. Outcomes, good or bad, can be adapted too. Today's friend is tomorrow's enemy. As the Duke Of Wellington once said "There are a lot of things one can do with a bayonet but you cannot sit on it." In Slow Horses a young man is snatched off the street. It is an obviously racially and politically motivated event. In fact there is nothing obvious about what took place. The clock is ticking, as his kidnappers plan to cut his head off, live online. I garuntee that in your minds eye you are already making assumptions about the identity of the victim and the agenda of his kidnappers. You would be better to let go of your certainties, in this case, as up is down and down is anything the kidnappers wish it to be. In fact, even those who seek to rescue the kidnapped man adapt to situations as they unfold, molding narratives that suit their own ends. It is a bit of a head scratcher as to who are the good guys in this world, the world that belong's to Mick Ferron's Slow Horses. I highly recommend this introduction to that world. Leave your certainties at the door.