Engrossed by 'Celebrity Traitors UK' as is half the country - or more.

Don't often enthuse about TV programmes but have to admit I'm finding our current 'Celebrity Traitors' totally rivetting - this one coming to its doubtlessly gripping finale next Thursday - and, very laudibly, nothing has been leaked though it was filmed months ago.

Before now we've had three U.K. series, but all only with 'unknowns'  as partipants competing for cash to win for themselves. I watched each of them - as well as three American series (using as location the same Scottish castle as our British ones have, though with Alan Cumming as an impeccable 'host'), as well as two Australian and one New Zealand series  - and found them all fiendishly watchable.   

This current B.B.C. one is presided over by the wonderful, and severely-serious Claudia Winkleman - except for when she loses it by getting excitedly involved in the challenges she sets, which I love to see. 

For the first time here, the game features only celebrity participants, several of whom are household names, and playing to win money for their individually favoured charities, the latter bodies being organisations whose names we as yet don't know. Right now we're down to the last five surviving players, among whom (most of) the remaining faithfuls do not know that there are also two uncloaked traitors in there with them -  though ex-rugby-player Joe Marley has, very shrewdly and correctly sussed out the identities of who the traitors are. I do hope he wins. 

  

This series began with eighteen well-knowns - or most of them being so, I familiar with just eight of the nine older ones, but none of the under-30s, not even any of their names ringing any bells. Some of those older ones whom I did know, include:-

Sir Stephen Fry........

........inevitably decribed as (over-used term) a 'national treasure', which indeed he is.

'Veteran' Actor Celia Imrie.......

....films include 'Mamma Mia', 'Bridget Jones' films, 'Calendar Girls' and too many others to mention. Her clearly audible though non-intentional fart in an early episode was considered as the moment in, probably, this entire series.

Btw: why is the word 'actress' not used now? Is it considered as demeaning? - or is it my age showing once more?

Olympic (bronze, silver and GOLD!) Diver - and now renowned knitter'! - Tom Daley......

.........who got 'murdered' way too early, he having quickly raised to others his deep suspicion of the following player as being a traitor..... 

Sports broadcaster (as well as dog-enthusiast) Clare Balding......

..........another earlier-than-deserved banishment.

Hottie, mainly TV daddy-actor (whom I didn't know) Mark Bonner:-

.... and whom I couldn't keep my eyes off. Severally frowned on for what was seen as his histrionic reactions and interventions, though they didn't bother me. Lasted longer than most before being banished.

Then, probably the two most widely recognisable (at least to British audiences) talk-show host and much more, Jonathan Ross......

....... who commands attention like no other just by being there.

.....and, of course, that giggly, camp, very popular comedian Alan Carr......

.......another who only had to be himself to get the attention focussed on himself - though frequently discomited by it, only adding to his being targetted, more often than not, in non-hostile ways.  

An interesting feature of this series is the high incidence of 'out'-LGBTQ participants (of both sexes), whom I shan't list as it really has nothing to do with the programme and I think has hardly even been mentioned - if at all. So I'll say no more.

I'm looking forward enormously to the grand final next Thursday together with millions of others. What a great idea this was - originally thought up by a Dutch guy, I believe. I don't think I've seen one single negative criticism of it. I shall of course be watching all future British series, be it either with more celebrities or equally with unknowns, as well as some from other countries too. Marvellous, compelling stuff!

Btw: In my last posting I wrote about the uncertain future of my blog as I'm unable to access Windows 11 on this ancient laptop of mine  - and this remains the case. However, I do have good (quite expensive)  security which has never let me down so far - and I shall continue to keep an eagle-eye out for anything untoward happening, anything which might endanger my own future use and (most importantly) that of others who read my blog. Should such a situation arise I most certainly promise to let it be known here. Thanks to those of you bearing with me. 

 

And so commences my final year as septuagenarian.

 Wed. 15th Oct.

This photo was taken two weeks ago on the first anniversary of that devastating tripping accident - resulting in broken arm, fractured jaw (though not seriously) and two most prominent upper front central teeth knocked out, the latter explaining the closed-lips smile which would otherwise have revealed an ugly gap. All except the teeth situation reasonably resolved now. I still await appointment with professional dentist who'll tell me whether my request for a pair of falsies to be inserted at front upper is viable, rather than the original dentist's opinion saying "They'll all have to come out!" - whether he meant both upper and lower sets or just the upper, I was too startled for it to register.

Other than that, things are okay, though I'm afraid there'll be a rather large 'downer' at the end of this post - so if you had thoughts of sending me your wishes, though I do know they'd be well-meant, you might prefer to go easy on the 'happy' bit when you read it. 

Both pussies, Bobby and Sloopy, now in late middle-age, are in good health though still as hostile to each other as they ever were. Despite the cooler weather every night they both sleep with me, one on each side (Sloopy nestling in the warmth of an arm-pit) making my turning over quite a business, with an occasional soft warning growl of disapproval. But I'd be truly friendless without them.  

Now for the 'bad' news. 

It's becoming increasingly likely that I'm probably going to have to discontinue this blog, whether just for a time or permanently I can't say. If that time does come I'll do a short post announcing such. 

The reason - finance. Yes, it really has become rather grim. With Windows now having withdrawn support for Windows10, and now Microsoft as well, it's becoming riskier, my primitive laptop becoming more vulnerable to hackers. I do have reliable security in Avast, who have never yet let me down though it would be better to have back-up just in case, all of which is disappearing. I wouldn't like others to be put at risk to hackers through me, let alone anyone finding out my bank details, so I think it would be better all round if I at the very least, go into 'suspense'. Frankly, I do badly need a new laptop (this present one is second-hand, won't take Windows11, and has its other very apparent limits). A much-needed new one is, at the moment, way beyond my means. No point in going to such expense for a 'luxury' when I already can barely find enough to buy food and to pay the heating (and other necessary) bills to keep me going through the Winter. So despite my near-smile in the photo above - taken, as I say a fortnight ago - things are not going so well and could yet turn even grimmer. 

Wish I didn't have to say it, but there it is.

I'll let you know if things turn up....or go further down.
Thanks for any concern you may have.

    

       

Today's annual 'Great North Run'. What fun for them!

 

Playing on TV right now is my annual, occasionally tearful, feast of nostalgia, the annual Great North Run (a half-marathon race, this year being the 44th, with participants now numbering 50,000) starting in Newcastle-upon-Tyne, with the course then running south over the river via the iconic Tyne bridge, then eastwards, terminating on the North Sea coast in South Shields. 

I ran it three times in the 1990s - and it's well-known, at least in this country, as the 'friendliest' mass sporting event, a title with which I'd concur. It attracts world-class runners every year, nearly always including Olympic medal winners. It's terrific fun - with a feeling of 'oneness' and camaraderie which I certainly haven't experienced in any of the other running events I've participated in, including (just the once) the London (full) Marathon of 1997, a few years after which I started getting trouble with my feet which necessarily ended my regular morning runs. 

The most famous name, probably, was (now SIR) Mo Farah, winning in 2015, and bowing out year before last with a very creditable finish of fourth place.

The race is located not that far from the part of north-east England I come from, some 50 miles south-east of Newcastle (300 miles from where I now live)  - so when I took part my mum was still around and I could stay with her. 

There was one time about 30 years ago I was attending some counselling training group and I happened to mention that I was travelling up to take part in the Run. One of the young ladies in the group who clearly had no notion of what the event was, at the end of our session said to me "Good luck, Ray. I hope you win!" My rather startled response to her friendly wish being "Win? I'll be lucky to finish in the first 15,000!" (I can't remember if I managed it, the number of participants then being something like 35,000, though most likely not - even then I'd probably have been over 50!).

So, as runners in today's event are now reaching the finishing line I'll return to bathing in nostalgic feelings and watch the closing stages with a wish of 'If only....' going round and round in my head. But I really am so happy for them all!😸

Phantom cat or is it just my mattress settling?

 

I've been experiencing this for about 10 years, I think. Not really scary (at least to me), but definitely an oddity. I wonder if anyone else has known or even heard of this kind of thing - or something similar? 

Nearly every night soon after I get into bed and put my head on the pillow, I feel the clear sensation that a cat has jumped onto the bed to join me - thinking that one of my, at present, two pussies has done their usual habit of coming to me to sleep with, which they'll both always do off and on during the course of the night, punctuated by their slinking off to go outside for their nocturnal prowls. But when I feel this 'phenomenon', I sometimes used to switch on a bed-side light, look aound the room, and there they both are, sleeping soundly in their respective favourite well-separated locations in the bedroom, either on the carpet in a corner or on a pile of discarded clothes awaiting washing. I don't even bother to look nowadays as I know what to expect. This feeling of one of them having leapt up to join me (it's always near the foot of the bed or behind my back when I'm lying on my side) is so similar to them actually having done so it's quite uncanny.

Now I ought to say that my present mattress is old, by some 30+ years, my having acquired it from a former address when I was in 'digs'. How long even before that my then landlord had it, I don't know.

So, the much more likely cause of this interesting, frequent, though minor 'disturbance' is that it's something to do with the bed rather than being paranormal (it hardly need saying!) - but the regularity of it, and its uncanny resemblance to the antics of a cat is remarkable. It's always around the same time - when I'm still awake, not yet nodding off and, oddly only at night, never during my daily afternoon snooze sleeping on the very same bed - a 'cat-nap' if you will. It's not in any way unnerving, in fact it's oddly reassuring.

Maybe I should say in passing that since I moved to the current address I must have had around 10 different cats as co-residents at one time or another, mostly in singles but occasionally a two-some like now. A few of them have actually died here, but none of them (yet?) in the bedroom, the last one happening in the bathroom, before that in the kitchen, then a couple being put to sleep at the vets (in my arms with my copious tears flowing as they were given their final jab). So a 'phantom' cat, highly questionable as it is, is never far from my mind. Maybe it lingers there because I like to think of it as such. All the cats I've had here have, every one of them, been very affectionate towards me - that's why they've stayed - so it makes me wonder, could it be?.......

P.S. Couple of hours after reading Mitch's response below regarding his own late cat, Tuxedo - Don't know why I didn't do it before, but having written in my opening sentence above that all this business started with me "about 10 years" ago, I've just looked at my notes of significant dates in my life, and the cat I owned who had the greatest effect on me, and who loved me to an extent no other cat since has done, was my dear beloved Blackso, who died in July 2017 and whose passing devastated me like no other - although of course I've also loved every other one of them too, even if Blackso was the most special one of them all. Tonight, when I feel him(?) jumping onto the bed I'm going to whisper his name. And why not?

Yet ANOTHER horrific episode uncovered in Catholic Church's appalling history.

 And in the not-very-distant past too. 

Warning: This is utterly heartbreaking. It's angered me and affected me profoundly. If you wish to read on, please prepare yourself to be distressed.

Scene: Tuam in County Galway, on the west coast of Ireland. 

From 1925 to 1961, St Mary's Home was a 'hostel' administered by the Church - the 'Bon Secours Sisters' (translation: Good Help) - for mothers, some of them mere teenage girls, who had given birth out of wedlock - together with their babies. This was, as many will know, an extremely dark time when 'society' considered unmarried mothers and their illegitimate offspring to be the result of the ultimate depravity - the work of Satan himself! (No accusation of guilt directed towards the male 'culprits', of course. They had nothing to do with it!), Perhaps one or more of the girls were raped by a perpetrator who was related to them, maybe even their own father. That doesn't matter. For a girl to 'allow' herself to be raped was still a most grievous mortal sin, any child resulting from such a physical union necessarily having to share that 'guilt'. 

The mothers themselves at this home were constantly treated like dirt by both nuns and staff - and their babies, usually separated from their mothers, some girls never being given the chance of even having seen their offspring, were treated hardly any better. But yet worse was to come. If their health was in trouble, that was too bad. They were the Devil's children! Many, many babies died, some maybe just a few months old - but some lasted long enough to become young girls! But it wasn't the Church's problem. And where were bodies of the little ones 'buried'? In the establishment's back garden - thrown into a sewage tank!!!! Oh my GOD! Pointless to wonder if any departing prayers were said for their innocent souls. The act says it all.

Here is a 'shrine' for them created later - yes, 796 of them, all their little bodies disposed of (i.e. hidden) under the grass. It's absolutely beyond words and imagination!

While it was operating, a total of 3,349 children lived at this 'home'. Some of them are still alive and able to recount their experience, how their stigma was carried into every area of their lives, including of course and prominently, schooling, where they were shunned by other pupils - on their teachers' instructions, naturally.

The old home has itself been long demolished, but work is now proceeding to identify bones now being extracted. Whether this will go far in identifying any of these young victims it's hard to ascertain.

And how did the present Church react? Well nothing too surprising. I suppose we can over time expect the episode to being forgotten, never to be mentioned, certainly not by the Church itself. Only the usual, almost reluctant, mealy-mouthed 'apology' of sorts - together with the inevitable "This can never happen again!" kind of reassurance. Big deal! We all look forward to something to show how much anyone in the Church who knew about this home, most especially those in senior positions (bishops, even maybe cardinals?) were aware of what went on. The present Archbishop of Tuam described the revelations as he being "horrified", "shocked" and a "body-blow". Well, don't that make you feel a lot better?

Meantime, is there any non-religious institution anywhere which, if it had allowed such an establishment as this to run and thrive for decades, to not be closed down forever. I doubt it. But for the Catholic Church - and 'Christianity' in particular - as well as religion in general - just claim that you are pro-'God', and you'll get off practically scot-free - and your 'business' certainly will not be shut down. 

Now 'scuse me while I just go away and vomit! 

Mega-horror - yesterday's Air India plane crash.

 There aren't adequate words to describe the scale of horror of yesterday's event, the plane crashing down onto a hostel for doctors and other premises in the Indian township of Ahmedabad mere seconds after taking off, killing 241 passengers and crew, additional ground fatalities so far unknown, though likely to be numerous. The cause of the plane's failure/malfunction is, of course, yet to be determined. There was only one survivor (with a few non-critical injuries) from the plane itself, which I will refrain from calling 'miraculous' - though others may not be so held back - as that would literally imply a deity who'd 'decided' that everyone on the plane must die except for this single 40-year old British man - a preposterous notion. But I get that people, myself included, are prone to exaggerating for effect when commenting on such a catastrophe as this - or, indeed, any tragedy at all.

However, in the reporting of the disaster on yesterday's TV news, there was a matter which some might say is relatively trivial as against the entire deadly drama. Among all the victims was a British couple, Fiongal Greenlaw-Meek who founded a spiritual 'Wellness Foundry' in London in 2018 involving psychic readings, reiki healing, tarot and other 'alternative' belief systems (not specifically religious) and who was later joined by his husband, Jamie, as business partner:-

When I first heard about the horrible event yesterday on the BBC News channel, among the details of those few victims known at that early time, was this couple, the BBC acknowledging Jamie as the other's husband.  However, on our ITV News half an hour later, the two were described as being 'partners' which, though accurate in the business sense, doesn't give what is arguably the more important part of their relationship. What makes their status as victims even more poignant is that the couple at the airport just prior to boarding for their flight, had made a video of themselves saying 'Goodbye, India' - which was broadcast. (Lump in my throat. Oh, weep for them!) Okay, so maybe ITV hadn't known that they were a married couple - but if it had been a man and his wife who was also his business partner, would they not have at least been 'interested' as to their relationship, if any? Or could it, just possibly, have been that ITV didn't want to 'offend' some viewers? I only ask the question because it still irks me. If the BBC knew, surely ITV too should or could also have found out? 

The plane would have been bound for London's Gatwick airport which is in that part of England in which I also reside, so I watched the later ITV 'regional news' bulletin with some interest - and yet again, as the crash had some incidental connection with this region, these particular victims were mentioned once more - and (no surprise) this couple were again only referred to as 'partners'!  (Incidentally, the later Channel 4 News did acknowledge their true relationship). Of course it's quite possible that I'm barking up a non-existent tree, but until there's evidence to the contrary I'll continue to quibble that this couple, dying together horrifically as they did, were not afforded the dignity and respect by our ITV channel to which they were absolutely entitled. 

London Pride 2025 is to take place on 5th July coming up. The couple were booked to supervise an information stall for their London-based 'Wellness' enterprise in the park gathering following the parade. Plans are currently uncertain how to carry on but what will happen is that a period of silence in the couple's memory will be held, which is the very minimum that can be done. As to whether anything else takes place regarding their profoundly ever-so-sad demise and in loving honour of their memory, we'll have to see.

Eurovision 2025 Grand Final - my post-event thoughts.

 

So, Austria wins. Not especially noteworthy IMO - and neither was the song, sung by JJ, a 24-year-old Austrian-Filipino in (mostly) extraordinarily high-register, counter-tenor voice, that being the only significant feature of his otherwise unmemorable entry, in a victory that was only clinched away from Israel in the very last announced vote, reaction being to nearly drown himself in tears, for which I think he can be forgiven.

This was Austria's third win in the contest's history, the last one being bearded drag-queen Conchita Wurst in 2014.

Btw: I read only this morning that among the several anti-Israel protests both inside and outside the hall, some highly predictably vociferous, during her act the Israeli singer was targetted by a pair of paint-throwers in the audience, though missing their object, hitting instead a stage-hand. Can't think why I missed seeing that! But anyway, her song did very nearly carry off the prize so she must have felt robbed when it fell at the very last post.

U.K. finished 19th (out of 26), the trio 'Remember Monday' with their stop-go-stop-go song, entitled 'What the hell just happened?' finished with what I thought a fair placing and a song title with which I would concur - their notable 'achievement' for the second year running having been to achieve for us the dreaded 'nul points' from the public international vote. I shed no tears.

As is nearly always the case, this year's presenters were so boringly dull, perhaps even moreso this time. Could they not think of something original, or even just marginally interesting to do or say? Apparently not:- 

Now, most thankfully, this year was not bedevilled with the question of how many votes we viewers have. In recent previous years we've heard the presenters talking of multiple votes while commentator Graham Norton, talking over them, goes on about our voting for the (emphatically singular) country we liked the most. At last, this year even he said that we can have up to 20 votes each - not permitting, of course, voting for one's own. So with that cleared up I voted for my own Top 5, the first three of which, incidentally, all being 'novelty' songs, and only the first singer being female. Significant? :-

1. Luxembourg (actually finishing 22nd) - singing in the cursed second place running order, the only position from which no participant has yet won. This pleasant, puppet-themed song and presentation was, I felt, sadly underappreciated.

2. Estonia (finished 3rd) - man with rubber limbs with a 'fun' song, complete with fake 'stage invasion' by female fan. An agreeable final placing. :-

3. Sweden (finished 4th) - had been out-and-out favourites to win, and early on in the voting looking like they would! I'd have been well pleased if they'd succeeded:-

4. San Marino (finished 26th = last). Undeserved. I'd liked the song on first hearing. Shame!

5, Iceland (finished 25th = second to last). My vote here wasn't very enthused, but even so these two brothers (not twins) didn't merit so low a placing.

So there you have it. This year a largely unremarkable contest with few genuine shocks/surprises as such. Next year probably Vienna, then? Maybe at last the U.K. will break out of its seemingly eternal doldrums which even the very occasional exception hardly alleviates.