Coincidence?

So. As will have been obvious to more or less no-one, yesterday's post is directly related to one from a couple of years back, with further references in who knows how many more before that. I happened across that first post yesterday and was reminded that I intended to do some more eventually. So I did.

My memory of much of this is still surprisingly clear, given that I last heard any of it in something like 1982. Cal it a consequence of having listened to my off-the-air tapes countless times back then: this stuff is engraved on my brain in a way that I just can't seem to manage now with any number of much more useful things. Despite that, I turned out to be slightly vague on the details of dessert -- I thought the ice cream flavour was vanilla, for example -- and so it seemed worth a google.

Make no mistake, I've done that before -- at the time of those earlier posts, for sure, and at other times as well. I don't remember when the last attempt was, but at that time Hordes of the Things was still effctively unknown to the internet, and thus could only tentatively be said to have existed at all. Given the inexhaustible depths of trivia long since available online, I was beginning to wonder whether I'd imagined the whole thing. Perhaps it was some kind of ludicrous adolescent fantasy that just didn't hold up to adult inspection.

Well, no. My ancient recollections have been unexpectedly vindicated.

That there might now be a Wikipedia entry for this long-forgotten series is not the world's biggest surprise, given that it is increasingly difficult to find any fucking thing for which there is not a Wikipedia entry. What is surprising, though -- almost alarming, in fact -- is that said entry reveals said show to have started repeats on BBC7 just the other day. Indeed, at least for those in the UK, the first episode -- from which most, if not all, of the examples so far cited on WT derive -- is available on iPlayer for the rest of this week.

I mean, really. What are the chances? Is the entire world enslaved to my whims? And if so, does that make me responsible for all the fucking awful, dismally depressing shit going down?

Man, I hope not.

Anyway, this "coincidence" allowed me to correct the ice cream flavour to strawberry. And when I once again have net access I will attempt to record the relevant sequence with Audio Hijack or some equivalent, so if you can't access the legit version I may be able to help.

The reason I can't do the recording right now is that I'm writing underground, in the arches of the Shunt Lounge, a members-ish art bar buried under London Bridge station in a space previously used for such performances as Tropicana and Amato Saltone. Some areas have changed significantly since then, others not. Either way, it's an amazing venue, the sort of place that makes me feel privileged to live here in London in these interesting times. Even despite so much in the world being desperate, agonising shit, local existence is still a fucking miracle. There are doubtless luckier people than me right now, but not many.

Of course, there is a downside, which in this case is that I most likely will not be able to see the performance for which I've come all this way. Apparently all the, rather limited, seats for Dancing On Your Grave have been preallocated -- no doubt to miscellaneous friends and family of the company -- and we mere plebs will have to take our chances. Normally this would piss me off no fucking end, but on account of the great pleasure she's given me over the years I'm prepared to cut Lea quite a lot of slack. In addition to which, the whole Shunt Lounge experience is really quite entertaining. As a nearby milk float puts it:

Isn't there always? And isn't that how things should be?
Posted by matt at July 23, 2008 07:58 PM