Oh dear. Both Scott and Tony are concerned about our
mental well-being. I think they regard people typing interviews with themselves as not
entirely healthy.
But nah - it's GREAT!! Isn't it, Mavis? Haven't
had so much fun since you know when. Be sure to take a look at Scott's page, as linked
just above. It's both decorative and fascinating. And designing it has saved him a FORTUNE
in petrol for his gas-guzzler, which you can also read about there.
Special mention to Fiona Mac, who joins our
happy throng of fanlets, as does Henry.
Henry! We read the site. Great shit man. Loved those revolving CND thingies. Just like the
sixties all over again. Do you know, today I saw a girl of 19 wearing rose-tinted specs!!
Awesome!
To email the solution to the above quiz, or any
other points, just click here. We should have
pointed that out from time to time.
magnificat.
(Keep those entries coming in!!)
SICK!!
9 June 1998
Magnificat is ill. Not mentally - quite yet - but dentally. I'm lying
here on my deathbed surrounded by Mullerrice and Yugoslavian yoghurt creations from
Scotmid. It's a nightmare. Mullerice is supposed to have an umlaut, but I don't know how
to do them. My dear friends David and Stuart are looking after me - feeding,
cleaning and generally caring.
"Here's yer tea!" David announced last night,
plonking beside me a frozen spaghetti from Alldays all night store.
"Thank you, David," I croaked, melancholy,
picking it up and handing it back to him. "You'll have to cook it for me - I'm
far too ill to move."
"Oh!" David said, that requirement clearly
having not struck him. "All right then."
Ten minutes later he proudly handed over a bowl of delicious
steaming and finely-herbed spag bol. I know it was abusive and demanding of me, but, hell,
that's what friends are for.
And that's what cable telly is for. Last night I watched, in diminishing
agony, Cybill, Ellen, Friends, and more Friends. Two solid hours of feelgood TV. And do
you know what? I felt better.
Oh - there were choices, of course. In those two hours I could have seen
the News, with the latest, coolest wars, 30 min on the backlog of American bombs in Laos
(gripping stuff!) and a half hour called "Serial Killers", loving placed between
armchair shopping and Tiffany's Big Tits.
So you think I hate tabloid journalism? You ain't seen the half of it,
baby. I DETEST cable tv with its mindsapping, down-dumbing, money-grabbing, all-pervading,
culturally-invading Yankee Doodle SHIT!! (Forgive me. We are unwell, as stated above.)
When you watch Cable, there is no requirement whatsoever to think. You
receive, passively, then you spend, automatically, on the things they tell you to. It's so
fucking skilful it's horrifying. Further, you get no indication that you're even in
Britain - 99 percent of the material coming from that other place, that dark and dangerous
hell across the water. The sole purpose of television is to shift product.
Unless you've got a dental abcess, of course, when it's fab.
