Paperclips and duct tape, MacGyver rules all!

1985 was a landmark year for American TV, 1985 was the year MacGyver was first aired. Now you may be asking yourselves just why is that so important? Why should we give two shits about a show that’s been finished for over 20 years? There’s a quite simple answer to those questions; MacGyver is possibly the single greatest TV show of all time (in my own rather weird opinion of course), it’s certainly the pinnacle of all action shows.

What made it so special though? Well despite being an action show, MacGyver emphasised the use of brains over brawn (and the attractiveness of a good mullet hairstyle).

Angus MacGyver, making mullets look cool!

 Rather than Hulking out and just smashing everything and anything with his fists, Mac would take a moment to appraise his situation, take stock of his surroundings and then come up with some ingenious plan, usually involving a paper clip and a roll of duct tape (because with duct tape you can solve any problem imaginable, it is known). It appealed to the geek in me, and I guess it appealed to others as well as it ran for 7 years. In the world of American TV that’s a fucking lifetime! Strangely enough he was also an American action hero who disliked guns, considering that American’s are the biggest gun lovers on the face of the earth and most respectable families over there will have at least 4 guns per household (at least that’s how they’re perceived by the sane world), having an action hero who hates guns is a huge anomaly. Well done the producers for going down that route, you helped prove that us geeky kids could be cool!

So the basic premise of the show is that MacGyver is an agent working for a secret government think tank (a polite way of saying he’s a spy), and because he’s quite the resourceful sort he’s often tasked to carry out the dangerous jobs others aren’t insane enough to take, where he can outwit various thugs and morons. There’s nothing quite as satisfying as seeing a single brain celled life form (thug with a gun), being out-smarted by a man who considers a paperclip to be an acceptable weapon. Basically MacGyver will infiltrate foreign nations, rescue people from all the little Hitler’s of the world and make bombs out of chewing gum (I’d like to see the A-Team do that last one). Usually he’s only ever armed with duct tape and a Swiss Army Knife. To everyone who’s ever been bullied by a dim-witted meathead it’s like a wet dream.

MacGyverisms (or how you too can look like a genius)

Now pay attention people because the following list could be the most important thing you ever read (don’t worry it’s not an extremely long list, so those of you with ADHD may possibly make it to the end). Someday you may be called upon by your country in a time of need, and knowing the following MacGyverisms (and others posted all over the internet) could help save your country, and your life. If nothing else people will look at you like you’re one awesome bastard when you regale them with your knowledge (more likely they’ll look at you like you’re a fucking goon, but hey you can pretend).*

Remember always to carry a Swiss Army Knife and a handy roll of duct tape.

1. If you have to disarm a missile, use a paperclip to short out the timer and the missile will not fire.
2. Whenever someone tells you that chocolate is not good for you, you can instantly prove them wrong by plugging up any nearby acid leaks. **
3. Being stuck without a ready supply of dynamite can be a pain, but if you're smart and resourceful then salt, sugar and weedkiller is an acceptable substitute.
4. If you're ever in a position were you have to flee your enemies in a hot air balloon and someone shoots the balloon, then duct tape your map over the bullet hole and seal the leak (make sure you've remembered a bloody map).
5. If you need to make a quick and easy bomb, then take a bit of fertiliser (nitrate), a bit of plant bark (cellulose), add a dash of acid and you have nitromannite, apparently it's rather sensitive and unstable.
6. Pine cones covered in pine pitch can make great natural grenades, pine sap has some explosive qualities.
7. With just two candlestick holders, a floor mat and an electrical power cord you can make a simple defibrillator. You don't want your friends dying while trying to escape bad guys do you?
8. Remember a paperclip is a handy thing to have, besides disarming missiles they can also be used when you need to pick a lock or hot wire a car.

See I told you all it would be a short list, so everyone with a short attention span should thank me now, if you haven’t already forgotten who I am.

*Don’t actually try any of these, there’s a good chance they won’t really work and the side-effects of attempting them could result in a serious case of death, and you don’t want that it’ll fuck up your whole life.

**This was actually proved to work by the mythbusters, so there you go, love your chocolate. 

So a tiny recap:

1. If you like geeky, innovative heroes, watch this show.
2. If you like mullets, watch this show.
3. If you like plenty of guns and cheesy one liners, watch the A-Team instead.

Thank you, that is all.

This is not a book review!

The orphan farmboy who gets taken off on a mysterious quest, saves the world, marries a princess and discovers he’s the heir to hidden royalty is possibly the biggest clique in the fantasy genre. And probably the most famous example of this overused and boring plot device is David Eddings’ 5 book series titled The Belgariad.

Here’s the book titles and year they were published:

Pawn of Prophecy ~ Belgariad book 1 1982

Queen of Sorcery ~ Belgariad book 2 1982

Magician’s Gambit ~ Belgariad book 3 1983

Castle of Wizardry ~ Belgariad book 4 1984

Enchanters’ End Game ~ Belgariad book 5 1984

I’ve been reading fantasy ever since I was old enough to go and raid bookshelves, I cut my reading teeth on the likes of The Chronicles of Prydain, The Chronicles of Narnia and The Lord of the Rings. I know good fantasy. I’ll rephrase that, I know what I consider good fantasy. The Belgariad is not good fantasy.

So why then am I writing about it? Why have I reread it on more than a few occasions? I will answer both questions, but first a little bit of history.

I first came across book 1 in this series near the end of my life in secondary school. I was doing what I normally did in those days, namely skipping school so I could hide in the town library all day. School was rather mundane and boring and I much preferred to go and lose myself in someone else’s created world. To those reading this, I’m not advocating the skipping of school, in hindsight it’s a rather stupid thing to do and more often than not it results in you working in crap jobs and hating yourself. So I happened across book 1, found myself a little alcove which seemed untainted by grubby hands and proceeded to read. I actually read most of the book in a few hours and found myself really enjoying it. What wasn’t to like? It had sorcerer’s, thieves, assassin’s and men waving swords around, everything a growing geek needs. My library actually had all 5 books in, so I obviously checked the lot of them out, went home at the correct time and over the course of the next few nights read the lot. For quite a while afterwards they were among my favourite books, I ended up buying the series and they had pride of place on my little bookcase. But then, as often happens, I discovered other authors, lots of very good authors, and slowly but surely they eroded my belief that Eddings was a literary god.

So to answer my first question. I’ve reread The Belgariad and other works of Eddings over the years, generally while waiting for the likes of George Martin, Guy Kay and latterly Joe Abercrombie and Scott Lynch to finish whatever they are currently working on. And while I am now firm in my belief that Eddings’ tales are actually pretty damn bad, I also am of the belief that they occupy an important niche in the fantasy genre.

To anyone looking to read fantasy, a book like Lord of the Rings can seem a pretty daunting prospect with its slow pace, and reputation as the most important fantasy book ever. I read it when I was quite young, but I am a weird case. So a gateway is needed, preferably something light and fluffy, something that won’t tax the brain too much and that something is The Belgariad.

It’s not a complex story (in fact I can think of several kids TV programmes that are a great deal more complex), the simple plot moves quickly from A to B with a plethora of predictable scenes. The writing is quite basic, which isn’t really too much of a problem as the pacing of the series is usually at set sprinting speed. Eddings also has the annoying habit of having a lot of characters share the same sarcastic sense of humour. This isn’t too bad at times, when only a few are in scene together, but trust me when you have a large group of people all being sarcastically insulting and tossing out witty one-liners it gets rather tedious in a hurry. Also, thanks to a huge deus ex machina, you’re never left with the feeling that any of the good guys in the series are in any danger whatsoever. With some of the things they face you should be able to sense some sort of peril, but it’s not there at all.

Despite me bad-mouthing the series I actually still like it. Sure it can be annoying, predictable and safe, but it’s fun to read, it’s light-hearted, occasionally gory fluff. Like the trashy action TV shows of the mid-80’s it doesn’t take itself too seriously, and that’s a good thing. I’ll continue to reread The Belgariad faults and all, and I’ll continue to recommend it to people looking to enter the genre.

The main reason I do reread the series (the above reasons are true but not the primary reason), is because of the characters. On that score Eddings has succeeded were a lot of technically better authors have failed. His characters literally do spring to life in your mind and they’ll continue to live with you, even when you don’t think of them for months or years at a time.

So let me introduce you to the main cast here, because it’s always nice to meet future friends.

Garion AKA Belgarion

Garion is our rather naïve, kitchen pot cleaning hero. He’s your stereotypical fantasy lead, the farmboy/kitchenboy orphan who goes on a great journey and learns all kinds of interesting things about himself. He’s a likeable lad, albeit a bit too humourless and practical at times, but I think you’ll sympathise with him.

Belgarath AKA Mister Wolf AKA The Eternal Man AKA Thieving Scoundrel

It’s just possible that Belgarath may be one of my most favourite characters in all fantasy. He’s a 7000 year old sorcerer with a drink and slight kleptomania problem, he’s also a great storyteller and is feared by most of the known world. Any way you look at him Belgarath is cool. He even makes tramps clothing look fashionable.

Polgara AKA Aunt Pol

Polgara is Belgarath’s daughter and has had a long, long love hate relationship with him. She’s a strict disciplinarian who disapproves of anything remotely resembling fun, offset against that is the fact that she has looks every super-model would kill for.

Silk AKA Prince Kheldar AKA that rat faced little man

Along with Belgarath, Silk tops many readers lists as favourite Eddings character ever, and it isn’t hard to see why. He’s witty, wittier than most in a genuinely funny way, he’s smart and his moral compass appears to be in a state of constant malfunction. When you add in the fact that he’s a thief, spy, con artist and master of disguise you know you’re on to a winner.

Barak AKA The Earl of Trellheim AKA The Dreadful Bear

Barak is the main muscles of the group, he’s a huge, brutish warrior who possesses all the subtlety of a large sword to the face. When he gets seriously pissed off he has been known to literally transform in a gigantic bear, whatever drawbacks that can have I’ll bet it makes pub fights extremely interesting.

Durnik AKA Goodman Durnik

Durnik’s like an older and wiser version of Garion, he’s even more practical and lacks a lot in the humour department. He’s also a bit of a xenophobe and can often be found criticising foreign people and their cultures. Despite this rather obvious flaw he’s a fundamentally decent man, possessing a lot of loyalty to his friends.

Hettar AKA The Horselord

Hettar can talk to horses, which in a fantasy world is an extremely great talent to have. He’s a quiet sort, probably because he spends all his time in equine conversations. He also possesses and overwhelming hatred towards a race of nasty people known as Murgo’s, the fact that they killed his parents and dragged him along behind a horse for a few miles probably explains this. If given his way he’d probably kill every one of them in various gruesome ways, he’s that committed.

Mandorallan AKA The Knight Protector

Mandorallen is, by his own admission, the greatest knight who has ever lived, and given how much he’s respected and feared outside of his homeland this may possibly be true. He’s a very courtly, chivalrous and polite man, a rare thing in a lot of men, espeicially in those trained in the use of big swords. He’s known far and wide for his utter fearlessness, though when you combine that with his complete lack of anything resembling common sense then you may understand how he could be a dangerous man to be friends with.

Lelldorin AKA The Archer

First thing many readers notice about Lelldorin, he’s not exactly the sharpest tool in the box. And while he is actually more headstrong and accident prone than completely stupid, ridiculous events do have a tendency to happen wherever he is. He’s an archer of vastly impressive skill and could likely hit the balls of a flea from a hundred yards away.

Ce’Nedra AKA Her Imperial Highness AKA The Irritating One

Ce’Nedra is small and red haired, that’s a bad combination right there. Ce’Nedra is also an Imperial Princess, and boy doesn’t she just love informing everyone and everything about her station, even when they already know and couldn’t give a damn. She is the very epitomy of spoilt royalty. When she chooses not to be a royal brat though she is a smart and charismatic woman, capable of great things.

Relg AKA The Zealot

Relg can walk through rock, any type of rock anywhere in the world he can actually pass his body through it. This automatically raises him into the realm of the supercool, his status is let down, and let down quite badly by the fact that he is a bigoted, ultra-religious zealot. He is actually a very tormented man, tormented by the sin he perceives everywhere around him and most especially in himself.

Taiba AKA The Slave Woman AKA Harlot

Despite having important character status, Taiba doesn’t actually have too much to do with the main plot (such as it is). She was born into slavery and the only life skill she finds useful is the ability to use her body to get what she wants. She finds Relg extremely fascinating and believes her main challenge is to seduce him.

Errand AKA that innocent little child

I was a bit doubtful whether to include Errand here, as he isn’t actually a significant player until the sequel series The Mallorean. But Errand, despite only being able to say one word, has actually played a major role in the events that lead up to the start of the series. So on that basis, plus knowledge of what is going to happen to him further down the line, I’m introducing him here. Little Errand is fairly limited in his vocabulary (not his fault as events do show), but he’s a pure and innocent soul, and even the most cynical of readers will feel a certain amount of protectiveness for him.

So there we go, that’s the main cast. There’s others who have fairly prominent roles but they have less screen time than this lot and so aren’t as important.

I had a debate with myself about whether I should write a review of the plot here, but I decided against it for a couple of reasons:

• It would be so long it’d be like a mini novel in itself, and no one would bother to read it.
• I hate spoiling books, no matter how good, bad or old they are.

All I will say is that it’s a standard fantasy quest story with larger than life characters. It has a lot of the usual fantasy elements; magic, big battles and exotic locations, there’s even a dragon and some carnivorous horses. And at the end of the series the heroes will face the Big Bad Evil.

 So in conclusion, it’s not brilliant, it’s not going to be included on any schools reading curriculum, but it is fun and sometimes you need something like this just to add some cheer to your day.

Childhood Games ~ British Bulldogs

I said this could become a series and it's looking like I may be correct.

After the fun I had dredging up my memories of hares and hounds, I've decided to take a good long look at the game of British bulldogs.

Now I don't know what games they play in other parts of the world, and for all I know kids may bash each other round the heads with metal bars and call that fun (thinking on it, don't chavs already do that and call it fun?). But in my experience British bulldogs is the most brutal game in the whole long history of childhood games. If you look at it a certain way it could possibly be as brutal as certain adult sports, like boxing, MMA, real wrestling and BDSM.

As an aside, I have no idea how the name British bulldogs originated and I'm just a bit to lazy to do some proper research on it.

Again this game requires a group of kids to play, the more the bloodier as it were. I suppose you could play it with imaginary friends, but you'd look like a crazed lunatic and might end up getting committed. Again there are two teams, though for this game they are a little bit more unequal, I'll attempt to explain that shortly.

There are different variations of bulldogs, so depending on where you live there'll be some slight differences in play. But the basic game is the same everywhere, run really bloody fast across an open area and try not to get flattened.

So to play the game. First you need a rather large, open playing area, preferably a large field, but anywhere will do as long as it's an empty space. Playing on concrete increases the chances of picking up a serious injury and thus having time off school, a popular choice. Next the teams are chosen, basically it's one kid versus all the rest who want to play. It takes a complex scientific formula to select the lone brat who will be the bulldog, requiring a knowledge of physics and orbital decay (the kid who suggested the game will spin around for a bit with his arm outstretched, when he stops whoever he is pointing at is the unlucky one). The two "teams" then set up in their own areas.

The playing area is divided into three parts - the main action area which is the largest part and where all the brutality occurs, and two safe or home areas at either end of the field. The action area is the bulldogs hunting ground and all the conquests will take place there. The opposing players start in one of the home ends and when it's time they attempt to flee past the bulldog to get to the other end - this is a round.

How us kids imagined a typical round to start!

To start the bulldog stands about midway between the two home ends, and after throwing a few choice insults, selects and opponent to try and get past him.

The bulldog taunting his prey!

For the challenged it's simple - get from one end to the other without being caught. For the bulldog it's a wee bit trickier; he has to either grab hold of his prey for long enough to say the phrase, "British bulldogs 1, 2, 3", or he has to smash the other kid to the ground then say the phrase. The second option usually tends to be the preferred one. If the bulldog catches his prey then they too become a bulldog, and finally the poor child has the chance of some company. Once the challenged child has either been caught or made it across the field safely, all the other kids can then rush out in a yelling, disorganised mob. This is the easiest time of the game to capture opponents; the bulldogs numbers will undoubtedly double at this point of the game.

The second round follows the first in style, except this time the kid who's called out has a larger number of bulldogs to avoid, making it that much harder to survive the round. And trust me, three of four kids piling on top of you isn't conductive to avoiding bruised knees and bloody noses!

The game carries on this way until the last kid standing is declared the winner. Surprisingly it's not often the fastest runner who wins, as the ever increasing hordes of children gang up en masse to bring the swift ones down. Strange how they seem to work in a pack...

As I stated in the hares and hounds post, kids have shitloads of energy and because of this another game is soon begun. The first caught from the last game starts as the bulldog.

A little fact to end this post with. Due to the extreme physical nature of British bulldogs, most schools across England have actually banned the game from being played during break times. Shall we all agree now that teachers are heartless bastards?

Childhood Games ~ Hares and Hounds

I was just sat here behind the computer, late last night, with a glass of wine, waiting for a friend to pop online,  when I got around to reminiscing about my long ago childhood. Well, it wasn't a recent thing this reminiscing, I've been reminiscing for years about all the ridiculous things I could do to get myself in trouble as a know-it-all kid. But last night’s reminiscing (I love that word for some reason) has been brought about by realising that I don’t quite have the energy levels as I did in my formative years (I tried sprinting after the dog earlier and thought I was going to friggin’ die).

So this got me thinking about some of the games I used to play as a kid (trust me, with the way my mind works that’s natural thought progression). So I'm going to bore you all with my favourite games, this could become a series so be well warned.

Most of these games, probably all, required a group of people to play them. So if you lived in your bedroom, played Commodore games and your only friend was Gordon who lived in your wardrobe, well then basically you were fucked and you don’t need to read any further (apologies to the friendless ones reading this, I’m not totally heartless).

Anyways, we’re going to start off by looking at a game known as hares and hounds (where I'm from that’s what we called it). It’s a simple game that requires a large and preferably urban area with lots of streets and side-streets to play in. To play the game you ideally need a minimum of eight people, preferably a lot bloody more, but anything less than eight and it isn't much fun, and is over far too quickly.

The rules - you and your friends split yourselves up into two teams, one known as hares, the other known as hounds. I know I'm stating the obvious there, but I can because I'm explaining this shit. Anyhow the hares are generally given a one minute head start, so they proceed to sprint off in all directions hoping to get as far away as they can before having a breather. Meanwhile the hounds stand around playing pocket pool and talking about how unfair life is that they have a curfew and how they won’t get into a strangers car if he’s offering sweeties. Finally, after much checking of cheap digital watches the minute is up.

A group of hounds preparing to hunt!

Now we’re into the exciting part of the game - the running around like idiots, the hares trying not to be caught, the hounds whooping and hollering and taunting their prey with childish insults. The biggest difference between the teams (other than hunter and hunted), is that the hares are all soloists, they’ll run about and hide and never have any help. The hounds on the other hand will often work as a team, luring their prey into cunningly disguised ambushes (chasing some kid right into another). When a hare is caught he isn't torn savagely limb from limb; that would cause the game to be classed as dangerous and possibly be outlawed. Hollywood would then probably make a movie of it, upgrading the kids to adults and casting Keanu Reeves into a heroic hare role. Instead the hare is transformed into a hound, via some sort of magic spell known only to children and cast with a touch of the hand. Once transformed, the new hound is accepted gratefully into the hive mind of the hounds, and joins their quest to capture his former friends.

A terrified hare fleeing the feral hounds!

Basically the game carries on in this vein until there’s only 1 hare left to hunt and he is then declared the winner. Of course they still have to hunt him down to tell him the good news and inform him that he’s won a Mars bar as a prize. Then after a few minutes rest the whole fucking thing begins again, with new teams. Kids have far too much energy.

There is a moral to this game and that is, don’t get bloody caught!

Here’s a word of advice - don’t ever play this game while on bikes; it can cause injuries up to and including broken limbs.

The A-Team provide life lessons

“If you have a problem, if no one else can help, and if you can remember them, maybe you can hire the A-Team”

It all began back during the days of the Vietnam War (way before even I was born); some soldiers did something rather silly and got themselves arrested. You automatically think of Americans when a statement like that is made, don’t you? Apologies to any and all Americans who might read that and sue me for defamation of character and what not.

Lets begin again…

In 1972 a team of crap crack commandos were sent to prison for a crime they didn't commit. Hold on a moment, before continuing on I have to ask - how do we know they didn't do said crime? I mean all we ever really have is their word and they are men who know how to use bloody guns, if they say they’re innocent most sane and reasonable people will nod and say they believe them! But anyways, back on track. They were sent down for a crime they “didn’t” commit. For punishment they got thrown into a maximum security military prison and, being our heroes they managed to escape. Now see this gets me wondering again, either our four main guys are more badass than we realised (and got arrested just for shits and giggles), or their prison was about as secure as a Wendy house. I think I’m leaning in the direction of explanation number two here. So they escape and promptly hide out somewhere in Los Angeles, which isn't a bad choice really as apparently, a herd of dinosaurs could hide out in L.A. and never be discovered. Deciding that they need money (well they’re on the run from the law and all criminals on the lam need a steady supply of cash), they choose to go into the soldier of fortune business (a rapid growth industry back in the 70’s - 80’s), and advertise their services in the classified sections of every newspaper on the face of the Earth. Good decision making there boys, no military police officers are ever going to suspect who you are when they see your ad in between the landscape gardening and dog grooming adverts.

Before we go any further let’s introduce ourselves to the A-Team, soldiers of fortune and supposedly all around good eggs.

"I love it when a plan comes together."

Here we have the main man himself, Colonel John “Hannibal” Smith. Master of disguise, cigar chomper extraordinaire and lover of plans coming together. He favours wearing white jackets and black leather gloves and is known to grin like a lunatic on meds (see: Murdoch) when things go his way.

"I lie, I cheat, I steal and I just don't get any respect."

Next up in front of us is Lieutenant Templeton “The Faceman” Peck, or just Face to his buddies. Face is the man who can get anything at any time from anywhere, unless it’s something useful that you actually need then he’s about as useful as a chocolate fire-guard. Face likes to appear suave and is rarely seen without female company.

"I'm a bird! I'm a plane! I'm a choo-choo train!"

Grinning at us now (and I guess making us all nervous) is Captain H.M. “Howling Mad” Murdock. The man who can fly anything, and I mean anything! He has been known to take joy rides on a paper airplane around the confines of his padded cell. Murdock likes nothing more than annoying his friends and extolling the virtues of a glass of milk.

"I ain't gettin' on no plane Hannibal!"

And finally we come to Sergeant First Class Bosco “B.A.” Baracus. This man must be the strongest man in the world and surely the only sentient being who’s ever harboured suspicions about an innocent glass of milk. B.A. likes gold, lots and lots and lots of gold; he probably has more gold around his neck than Fort Knox has in its vaults.

So now we've met our heroes and we know how they got to be where they are (well, we know their version). So what is it they now do? What exactly is soldier of fortuning? Or soldiering of fortune? Well evidently it’s about helping the weak, oppressed and frankly naïve population of America in their struggles against crooks, thugs and other unsavoury types, all the while imparting morality and good old fashioned working class ethics on the unsuspecting viewing public. And who said ultra-violent, yet strangely bloodless, trashy action shows couldn't educate people?

I'm going to describe a basic episode here, it’s all made up from my imagination, but I'm sure you've all seen the various A-Team equivalents. At least I hope you've seen it, I'm going on the assumption here that everyone reading has had almost constant access to a TV and hasn't been living in a TV-less world were the only form of entertainment is counting pocket lint.

Anyhow…

Random redneck townsperson A is being threatened by random redneck thugs A,B and C. D is looking on menacingly chewing on a toothpick. The threats are probably some form of extortion; they usually are in your typical A-Team episode.

Random redneck townsperson A moans and whinges to random redneck townsperson B, and sometimes C if the producers could afford a lot of extras. Together our group of oppressed random rednecks scour the classifieds, looking for men with guns to drive in and save the day. Smart-ass comments and pithy one-liners are a must.

A meeting is arranged and random redneck(s) get in their rusty old car(s) and drive off to a fairground (sometimes it’s the beach). There they are met by a giant latex clown (I can’t remember seeing Hannibal in a giant latex clown outfit, but I'm pretty damn sure he had one).

The random rednecks pour out their woes to the giant latex clown and ask it if it knows where to find the A-Team. Just as an aside here, would you trust anyone who wore a few pounds of latex on a stupidly hot day? Me neither! Sidetracked again, sorry. After listening sympathetically the giant latex clown pops open a panel somewhere on its upper body and the face of Hannibal Smith appears, lights up a cigar, chomps a bit and informs them he and his boys will help out.

Cue the really cool intro music:

We have a few quick fire scenes here. First off is a few random redneck thugs getting all macho and tough with a group of random redneck townspeople, then we have the first real A-Team action scene of the day. Murdock, as viewers will remember, lives in a mental hospital (because he’s a loon obviously), and because our team can’t function very well as a threesome they have to come up with a cunning plan to break Murdock free for a few days. This usually involves Face posing as a doctor and B.A. posing as a taxi driver (he’s driving something, he can do the taxi driver pose).

With Murdock (un)safely back among the general population our team head off for the random redneck village, the four messed up horsemen of the apocalypse.

Within seconds of driving down random redneck town’s high street, Hannibal and the boys not only know who the big, aggravating boss is, they know everything he’s ever done wrong, even down to the aggressive way he used to play kiss-chase at the local primary school.

Hannibal, Face, Murdock and B.A. meet up with a few of the respectable elder random redneck townspeople, and they do the verbal equivalent of a group hug, Face makes eyes at some pretty girl (probably called Daisy or Mary Sue), then they head off to a bar. You have to understand, it has to be a bar. Nowhere else can show the confrontational ambience of small-town America other than an all American bar.

In the bar the head redneck thug is shooting some pool (usually winning, because thugs the world over are brown nosers and want to suck up). The comic relief bit happens here, when Hannibal and the head redneck thug trade enough witty one-liners to make a circuit comedian go green with envy. Suffice to say nothing gets resolved (these guys really are shit negotiators) and Hannibal is now free to devise one of his cunning plans (I don’t know about the rest of you, but I'm wondering if Hannibal can count Baldric among his ancestors?)

Before the gang leave the bar though, they must have the obligatory fist fight with the redneck thugs. The fight follows a fairly predictable routine. Hannibal, despite looking a few centuries older than most of the guys he‘s fighting, manages to beat his opponents down with a variety of brutal and flashy moves (and never losing his cigar). Murdock acts all crazy (well, he doesn't need to act) and barring throwing the odd jab around doesn't accomplish much. Face, being perceived as the weakest guy alive generally has a few big, hefty thugs surrounding him, and despite being a highly trained special operations soldier he still manages to get beaten on by a group of lads who can all probably claim that their sister is their mother … and they’re all brothers. B.A. meanwhile just stands there, letting each and every one of his assailants punch the foot thick armour-plating of gold chains that cover his chest (why they ignore his unprotected face is anyone’s guess), then when they’re all stood around holding their hands he throws them contemptuously about the room. He’s so talented he can even throw them in slow-mo.

The team leave the bar and climb into the van. Now the A-Team van is surely the coolest motor vehicle ever to appear on screen (even better than the cars shown in The Dukes of Hazzard and Starsky and Hutch). It’s an indestructible fighting machine, a mobile war office and the bearer of the world’s largest personal weapons armoury. The van is the fifth member of the A-Team.

So they've made their plans. Hannibal has chomped a few cigars down to brown mulch. Now they are ready to go to war.

Sometimes, if we’re especially lucky, we’ll get a scene involving some sort of flying machine. It makes sense really as Murdock is the best pilot in the world, now and forever. I'm pretty convinced, though, that the only reason these scenes were included was to educate young people on the importance of having a regular calcium intake. I mean we've already seen that B.A. is afraid of precisely nothing (well we have if we’re actually watching the show rather than reading my unaired episode), and now we’re expected to believe that B.A. is afraid of flying? I'm sorry but I can’t accept that. With any other mere mortal I could, but this is B.A. Baracus the toughest man alive. He ass fucks Chuck Norris twice before breakfast. Therefore I can only deduce that the powers that be saw he was the perfect role model and asked him to have this one (unrealistic) weakness in order to show the watching kids that drinking milk at any time was good for you. The sedatives were just a convenience.

We are treated now to various scenes of no real importance to the plot (usually scenes of Face making out with Daisy or Mary Sue).

But then we are treated to scenes of real genius. The scenes that every kid was glued to the TV for on a Saturday afternoon. The scenes of capture and subsequent escape.

You see what happens (in every bloody episode) is that something has gone wrong with the plan. The head redneck thug and his band of merry minions have somehow managed to capture Hannibal and the team. All the random redneck townspeople are depressed by this turn of events, understandably so given that the team of “professional” soldiers they've hired have been captured by a group of people who failed auditions for Deliverance.

But all is not lost. Our heroes (in true A-Team style) are imprisoned in a really large warehouse, fully stocked up with; wood, metal, power tools, spare tyres, gas canisters and some form of root vegetable, not to mention that the redneck thugs have failed to learn from history and have neglected to cut the power to the “warehouse prison”.

What follows is the biggest exercise in ingenuity you are ever likely to see, as the A-Team use all the materials they find and construct a worthy replication of a Challenger tank. This is why this show was more educational than anything else on TV at this point, it proved that if you used your brains and common sense, and if you just had access to a solitary plug point, you could turn a simple cabbage into a weapon of mass destruction. Learning with violent entertainment, if only schools would go that way now!

With the cabbage cannon (or whichever root vegetable they are using as ammunition), the A-Team are able to defeat the redneck army and their arsenal of automatic weapons. Miraculously enough nobody dies, or is even wounded. Either the people on this show are the worst marksmen in history, or the guns they have just shoot bubbles shaped like bullets. I’ll let you form your own opinions there.

Anyhow, Hannibal, Face, Murdock and B.A. have won. The oppressed redneck townspeople are free from their redneck thuggish oppressors, a victory for morality you may say.

I have to say though, other than Face having plenty of sex (fortunately not seen on camera), how do Hannibal and the team get paid for their efforts? Do they get paid cash so they can avoid taxes? Numbered Swiss bank accounts? Or do they have bank accounts in false names so they can access them without too much fiddling around?  I guess we’ll never know as the economics of being a soldier of fortune is never really explained.

There we go though, that’s how a particular episode of the A-Team generally goes. I'm sure you’ll all agree, once you've taken off the nostalgia glasses, that it’s just complete unbelievable trash TV. Best off left to the decade in which it emerged.

And we’re all probably right!

*****

What it all boils down to really is that this programme was pure fun. Sure, it wasn't Oscar or Emmy award winning brilliance, but it was light-hearted, and more often than not it had a decent moral message that kids could understand. And it was entertaining, and what more do we want from a TV show?

Thanks for reading, hope you all enjoyed.

A daytrip to Blackpool (when it was still the great wonder of the world)

Once upon a time, back in the hazy summers of youth, a daytrip to a seaside resort was considered one of the highlights of the school holidays. Wherever you went, be it Blackpool, Bournemouth, Brighton or Skegness you were virtually guaranteed a great day out.

I’m from the North-West so Blackpool was my family’s seaside destination and us kids looked forward to visiting every year. I’m not sure if the parents did but they weren’t important except as sources of transportation and money.

As I’ve gotten older I’ve come to see Blackpool as a tacky little town full of drunks and fools, but when I was a small lad it was fucking Wonderland. The Pleasure Beach, the piers, the Sandcastle, the tower and the zoo, it was the perfect place for any kid to really enjoy themselves.

As soon as the first really hot weekend of the summer holidays appeared the parents would bundle us into the car (after first making sure we’d had a good breakfast), and hit the road. It seemed to take forever to get there, but doesn’t it always when you’re eager to get somewhere? It actually takes less than an hour to get there, from where I live anyhow, but trust me to an eager young lad that’s a fucking lifetime. When the parents said we were near close to Blackpool my brother, sister and me would all get quite excited and squabble to see which of us could spot Blackpool Tower first. I was always the first, unfortunately I never got a prize for that.

Anyway we’d arrive early, park up somewhere fairly cheap and head off for the Pleasure Beach (if you’re taking kids to Blackpool that’s always the first destination). Even now I could quite easily spend all day at the Pleasure Beach, it’s only bettered by Alton Towers in my opinion. There’s something for all ages on the Pleasure Beach, famous old rollercoaster’s like The Big Dipper and The Grand National, dodgem cars, water rides and plenty of arcades for older, cool kids. There’s also a fair few pubs for the weary parent. I was never much for the rollercoaster’s as a young lad, I’ll admit they quite scared me, I was to be found most often in the arcades, playing the most recent games and wasting plenty of 2p’s on the coin pushing machines.

We’d never spend all day on the Pleasure Beach, after a while the parents would want to leave and walk the promenade and visit at least one of Blackpool’s three piers, where there was more arcade goodness. It was always a bit of fun to go running the length of those rickety old piers and see the worry on adult faces, whether that was worry that we may somehow (impossibly) go over the edge, or that we’d collapse the pier around them I never knew.

After a spot of dinner on the pier, usually a tray of chips and gravy on the south pier, we’d continue to be dragged up the promenade. As a punishment to the parents for making us leave the Pleasure Beach we’d make damn sure to try and drag them into every gift shop we could see, and as anyone who’s ever visited Blackpool will know there’s fucking loads of gift shops, seems like one in every three shops is a souvenir seller. And you know what? Every damn shop sells Blackpool Rock, in my opinion possibly the worst thing ever to be sold as confectionary. Even though I hated it (and still do), I always made sure to get some bought for me, it’s that punishment thing. Most of the items on sale were things only a kid could love; stickers, masks, little plastic models of Blackpool Tower and cheaply made teddy’s.

If we weren’t being particularly bratty on the day we’d sometimes walk all the way to Blackpool Tower from the Pleasure Beach, quite a trek for an adult never mind a school kid. The walk was always worth it though, if only to laugh at the little monkey zoo inside, which I think they’ve now removed, the bastards. If the lift was working you could go up to the top of the tower, were you had a spectacular view and possible danger of being blown over to Ireland.

We’d always end the day back at the Pleasure Beach, well there’d be uproar if we never, ready to waste more money on the 2p machines and rides and where I’d come in for a bit more mockery for my refusal to ride the rollercoaster’s. I never actually went on any rollercoaster until I’d left school and was working, nowadays I love them.

The trip home was usually quiet, with everyone being tired out from all the walking and money spending and possible fighting, but us kids were generally quite satisfied at having a good day. The parents were very glad that they’d tired us out and made sure we’d all be having an early night.

I miss those childhood Blackpool trips, it seemed like the greatest place in the world back then, now I rarely ever want to back there. It’s sad.

Aliens are among us!

My friends and followers (yes I do have friends, so ner), it has recently come to my somewhat paranoid attention that there may in fact be aliens living among us right now upon Planet Earth!!

Before you cast your eyes that way, no chavs are not aliens! They don't have the necessary intelligence required to wash behind their ears let alone pilot advanced starships!!

Actually it hasn't really been brought to my attention, I just have a theory and because it's my blog I'm making it fact! So deal with it MoFo's!!

So now I have my little bit of rambling out the way, I talk too much when I type, I'm going to put forth my cracked theory! You don't have to read it, but it would be the path of wisdom to!

First of all look at this face:

Does that look like the face of any natural Earth creature??

Ok it does look like a far more appealing face than that seen on your average council estate. But still, it's alien!!!

If you hadn't already guessed, that is the face of a giraffe. A familiar sight in zoo's and safari parks the world over. Not something you'd believe is a life form from another planet, a being that has been sent to infiltrate Earth and spy out its secrets!! 

Can you see that evil, alien look about them? Those long necks are not natural and don't make them look cute!

Now I may just be paranoid, but I'm fairly certain that an army of giraffe's is even now gearing up for a mass invasion from space! When they arrive and conquer us they will herd us all up, stretch our necks to a height they find aesthetically pleasing, stick us in a bloody small enclosed field and make us eat leaves right off the top of trees!!!

I don't know about you, but the thought of future neck stretching is terrifying, not to mention that it would make us all look extremely weird! Oh and leaves will never be as tasty as a Burger King double whopper!

So I'm preparing for the inevitable now! I'm wearing my tin foil hat every time I go near Chester zoo, the long necks won't get no secrets out of me ... not that I know any real secrets ya know! I will be among the first members of the anti-giraffe resistance!

Hmm it appears that I've not explained why I think giraffe's are aliens! Well they have long necks and they look odd!* That's all the reasoning I need!

*No offence intended to any giraffe's reading this.....