SHERLOCK ,HIMSELF....BENEDICT CUMBERBATCH, ALMOST AS GOOD A NAME AS SHERLOCK HOLMES

I always thought TIM LEATHERBARROW was a bad enough name, but i take my sympathy hat off to a guy called BENEDICT CUMBERBATCH. He's an actor who plays somebody else with a cracker of a name...SHERLOCK HOLMES!....We all know the name ,but if you were given the name as your mum n' dad were fans of somebody else with a ood name, an author with the mouthful of a moniker ,SIR ARTHUR CONAN DOYLE, well you wouldnt be too happy. In a world were hardly anybody has a name with more than 3 letters unless its a nickname, the kids in your class at reform school wouldnt let you getaway with a name like Sherlock.

The other night we were watching the updated remake of the SHERLOCK HOLMES epic ,THE HOUND OF THE BASKERVILLES in the BEEB series 'SHERLOCK'. I thought it was really good ,savage dogs and magnifying glasses replaced by animal testing, clone research, nerve gas and I-PODS. But it worked. The funny thing is ,its gotten me watching the old JEREMY BRETT excellent traditional adaptations of the original stories. I've been reading the new JAMES BOND book ,which name ive forgotten for the moment, but is actually very good,but i've also found myself watching the originals on DVD again.

Theres nothing wrong with trying to update our favourite heroes, there'll always be those fans who'll think of it as a form of heresy, but they can stand alone in their own right and expand the popularity of the originals, a new generation go back to the'source material 'to see what the fuss is all about. My daughter loves 'SHERLOCK' and loved the GUY RITCHIE, SHERLOCK HOLMES films, at least it gets her away from HARRY POTTER.

BENEDICT CUMBERBATCH,is a fine actor with that 'odd' look about him that a character like Holmes demands, i cant help thinking he'd 've made a good DOCTOR WHO. MATT SMITH has that 'odd' look, but is too young and the writers seem to be going very weird and could destroy one of the greatest fictional characters since SHERLOCK HOLMES.

DOCTOR WHO,OR DOCTOR WHAT?WHAT?WHAT?...NEDDIE SEAGOON AS OUR FAVOURITE TIMELORD!

Apparently it nearly happened instead of JON PERTWEE, or TOM BAKER, around the early 70's when they were looking for a new DOCTOR WHO, the favourite for our favourite time lord was a certain HARRY SECOMBE...SIR NED OF WALES...NEDDIE SEAGOON.....Just sit back for a moment and try and imagine how that would've panned out ,one of SPIKE MILLIGANS crazier GOON SHOW scripts could only have come anywhere near it. Just as well the TARDIS, is "bigger on the inside than outside!".....Which would've been handy for Neddies portly blubberous frame...Mind you the doors could've been a problem ,the BEBC special effects people only ever show one TARDIS door open at a time to avoid showing the huge inside ,with SIR NED, they would've had to have both doors open for him to get in and out. nEDDIE SEAGOON being chased by DALEKS and CYBERMEN, etc ,well i'm chuckling imagining it now.

I met SIR HARRY SECOMBE a few times and a lovely bloke he was as well. The GOONS were wonderful. SPIKE MILLIGAN ,the tortured maniac who writed all the insanity and suffered for it, a manic depressive ,tortured genius ,etc. PETER SELLARS, A gifted mimic and a wonderful actor but like Spike a dark tortured soul. HARRY SECOMBE was the heart and soul of the GOONS, as he was a comic super nova. A fat ball of manic energy and humour.He was like that whenever i met him, but as far as THE GOONS. The humour was there from all three ,but the joy and laughter was mainly down to SIR NED. Who knows maybe he has become a time lord and is whizzing through time and space in a slightly bulging blue box, look up into the sky one starry night and if you hear a,"Whay ,hey ,what?what?what?", followed by a loud raspberry ,you'll know who's who!

IT'S FINALLY HAPPENED, THERES MORE STREET ENTERTAINERS IN LIVERPOOL THAN SHOPPERS!!!...

The other week i stepped off the chuffa train at Liverpool Lime Street and stepped out into the sunshine of our fair city. The roads were full of cars,taxi's, busses and trucks chugging n' honking; Then there was those brave bold and by neccessity slightly insane pedestrians trying to get past the traffic to delve into the shopping area in and around St Johns precinct opposite. All together people and engines make an impressive noise. But the air was filled with not so much a 'white noise', more of a 'white boom'....Puzzled as i was i made my way into the centre and realised what it was.

In the old days of my youth, there was the odd acoustic guitarist occassionally with a full quota of strings; Some old tramp with a tin whistle, or occassionally the odd accordian. But now!...There was whole bands; Carribean steel bands with about twenty drums ,and to make it worse ,the public were allowed to have a go; There were guys who'd set up electric keyboards and synthesisers; Electric guitarists with stacked amps ,that were once ditched by The WHO, or LED ZEPPELLIN at one time; There was a guy battering the hell out of a full drum kit in the middle of a side street; But the worst of all according to theLOVELY LYNNE was the group playing the bag-pipes; On top off all this a marching band came through town to add to the cacopheny of sound .And as well as that you've the drivers who want us all to share their 'BOOM, BOOM,BASS' horror, as they cruise by with all their windows open. The thing that struck me is how the electric musicians are flooding the streets .Where do they get their power from. No crocodile clips and car batteries for them. I just wondered if the shops that they're playing outside of have noticed an extra plug in their multi-socket plug point, and a lead going out the door ,or into the staff toilet and out the window.

As you wend your way through these purveyors of noise.You have to be very light on your feet. Theres now dancers ,even plays and traditional entertainers juggling away, etc . To escape the street chaos we would hide away, as ever in various back street boozers. We would purchase our 'refreshments' and then discover we weren't to be spared the horrors of noise. Our hopes of talking and being heard where about to be destroyed by the worst most awful form of noise there is....Karioke....The x-factor auditions all rolled into one and sung for your own personel pleasure as you choke on your drink. The LIVERPOOL BLITZ was a lot more tuneful and pleasurable to listen to, definitly not as loud....Aaah, i'm starting to sound like the miserable old fart i ,at last am, eh?

I USED TO HIDE BEHIND THE COUCH WHEN DOCTOR WHO WAS ON THE TELLY....NOW ITS WHENEVER ENGLAND PLAY.

When i was younger in the days of black n' white DOCTOR WHO'S. A long time ago when the Doctors had passed the age of puberty, like WILLIAM, HARTNELL and PATRICK TROUGHTON...When the DALEKS, CYBERMEN, etc, etc..scared the living daylights out of young lads. And as we know we all used to dive behind the couch at the first "EXTERMINATE!"....The dark was cosy and safe behind the horrendous settee with the flower patterns on that were a lot more horrific than any beastie, robot or monster the Doctor Who scriptwriters could come up with.

But ,as we grew up our fears changed and it wasnt so much the beasties, robots or monsters that scared us, but the fact that our television license payed for the worst special effects and wobbliest sets in telly history. Even worse than CROSSROADS, but that was on ITV. We didnt have to pay for that,so that was ok.

But much like the classic Doctor Who days, the boyhood fears have returned me behind the couch . When i sit to watch ENGLAND play(if thats the word). The acting is the same ,way over the top; Most of the game looks like certain defeat for our heroes,(and ussually is), as they run around screaming and shouting, like all the Doctors assistants: And as for the monsters and beasties, well, we've a few, well able to drive you behind the couch....Well! WAYNE ROONEY for a start

IT IS NOW OFFICIALLY WINTER...THE XXX'IN X FACTOR AND STRICTLY COME DANCING ARE BACK ON THE TELLY !!!!!

Once upon a time summer went on forever. Long sunny days running around ,playing 12 hour games of footy with your friends or going on 40 mile bike rides to god knows where. Then autumn came as the nights started to draw in, although the evenings were still 'balmy' and pleasant. Then , eventually winter arrived with the clocks going foreward and we were back in school waiting for the run up to x-mas. Now its all different. Summer's no different to any other part of the year, except for the fact that it rains more than most of the rest of the year. The streets and green areas are totally bereft of kid playing. They're all in the back room watching the telly and playing computer games and only making any attempts at communication if they want something. But the main difference to 'everything' is the total disapearance of autumn. Winter replaces summer at approximatly 7.00 pm one Saturday night....'Bang !'....Its now Winter!.......The beginning of the dark depressing oppressive winter is the NEW SERIES OF THE X-FACTOR.

That collection of talentless deadbeats n' no-marks who for some reason consider themselves qualified to be a celebrity, as that is all they want to be, not an artiste, or anything just a celebrity. And it is their god given right to become a star. They are totally oblivious to the fact that they are shite and everyone thinks they're shite. Friends ,family, laughing qualified (?) panellists,( they're in the buisness y'see)...The jeering thousands in the audience; The scoffing millions watching on the telly and re-enjoying the humiliation on 'you-tube, etc. I would love to become famous on the X-Factor set by blowing the bastards on the panel and the chirpy comedian presenter to bits with a high powered rapid fire combat rifle. But ,for some reason i am alone in my hatred of the X-Factor. My family love it,they adore it, its great. We have the SKY+ system, so we can't miss any of it. And to make matters much much worse i also find myself forced to watch STRICTLY COME DANCING. Which i also dislike, although it has to be said ,not with the venom reerved for'X'....So as once saturdays used to be:The wrestling; Football results from every single person in the British Isles who trudged onto a mucky pitch and booted a soggy heavy leather footyball; Doctor Who, adventure series and films. Now its dancing and screeching. And lest we forget the stereotypical celebrity expert panellists which are spreading like a virus on the spawning pandemic of various types of talent shows. The cartoon storm clouds of gloom hover over my head on a Saturday night whilst the Lovely Lynne and the Little'un literally shine with pleasure and joy. And then they start showing it on a Sunday as well......I'm not a celebrity,but get me outta here!

HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO ME, HAPPEEY BIRTHDAY TO-OO MEE-EE. HAPP-EE BIRTHDAY TO MEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!..49 NOT(quite) OUT !!!

Well, it's my birthday you ignorant shower. Maybe i overlooked the 3foot mound of envelopes on the mat inside the front door containing the mounds of birthday cards that've no doubt poured through this morning,to bring your love and respect to me on this very special day ; Give me joy n' pleasure and give the post man a hernia. On my way to the first pot of tea of the day i wouldn't have been capable of noticing a post van parked at the bottom of the stairs. But when my eyesight'kicked in' after my 3rd mug of heavily sugared tea, my 20/20 vision could see the doormat perfectly. Totally unobscured by a mass of birthday cards...YOU MISERABLE HEARTLESS BASTARDS!!!.....I am now 49 years of age , and worse than that i am now in my 50th year.....Excuse me while i go and sever some vitally important blood vessel, will ya.

I was born when the world was black n' white; The Beatles hadn't formed, you listened to Slim Whitman and Jim Reeves and Cliff Richard and Adam Faith and enjoyed it? Doctor Who wasn't even thought of. Steam engines filled Lime street station and powered past our old house. And if you went 49 years before my birth , i'd have been alive during the First World war. Oh god this is getting worse. I am now at that age where there are plenty of old people ,but wherever you go you seem to be the oldest. Thankfully i've retained my youthful good looks whereas many of you haven't. There is, ironically a shaft of sunlight beaming through the darkness...My birthday is ST SWITHINS day and when it pisses down on this day, it pisses down for 40 days and 40 nights, so enjoy my birthday..Cos its hammering down.

SHOULD JONATHAN WHOSSY,BE GIVEN THE SONIC SWEWDWIVER AND BE THE NEW DR WHOssy?

Somewhere in the far flung reaches of the galaxy, on an alien planet, on a B.B.C.-owned rock quarry, the quiet and stillness is broken by an asthmatic wheezing sound as a blue 1950's police telephone box materialises on the rocky floor. The doors open and from the amazingly large interior, loud schoolboy squeals n' giggles can be heard. Then a tall man with a strange tight suit and a very loose haircut stumbles out. This exiled wanderer(without pay) in space n' time is, Doctor Whossy. He isn't alone he has a black hairy alien assistant/ pet with him, skipping along waving his arms about manically, this is a Russell from the planet Brand. They make an odd couple in this seemingly deserted alien B.B.C. backlot. They are giggling as they have just brought the universe to the verge of war, as they have been leaving obscene messages to the DALEK answer phone on the Dalek homeplanet of Skaro. The Emperor Dalek was particually upset with references to a sexual encounter the Doctors hairy pet is supposed to have had with DAVROS, the creator of the Daleks. The repercussions have reverberated throughout the known universe, complaints have poured into the Time Lords on the Doctors home planet of Gallifrey from all kinds of various lifeforms;Cybermen,Sontarens, Sea Devils, even conservative M.P's. The spaceways're filled with bandwagons that various howling (political,not intelligent) lifeforms are all jumping on. While all this goes on the TARDIS(Time And Relative Dimensions In Space) vanishes off into the vortices of space and time manned by two other TARDOS'S( Tossers And Real Dimwits On Suspension). Maybe oneday the Doctors lost wanderings and mischiefmaking will end and he will finally return home to the chatshow from whence he came. As for Russell, give him a venusian banana, that should keep him happy for a good while and inspire some odd jokes to pad out the material for the sketch that this will all become when he takes it 'on the road for his next tour.