Dunk's Daily Blog

The Boy Who Couldn’t Sit By The Fire

Charlie Chox was a well cared for little boy from Bourneville. His family lived in a small terraced house on Shadbury Street, opposite the chocolate factory where his father worked. Charlie worshiped the ‘brown god’ (as he called it): wrappers of every different kind of bar made by Shadbury’s in the last twenty years were proudly displayed in frames on his bedroom wall. Every night at eight o’clock, Charlie’s dad would return from his evening shift on the production line. The rotund youngster would squeal with delight as daddy presented him with more and yet more Shadbury products. How he loved chocolate! Night after night, he ate and ate and ate. Perhaps his mum should have noticed the changes that were happening, but mums are busy people!


Gradually at first, Charlie’s face was becoming a milky brown colour. Little bumps started to protrude from his cheeks. Over a period of days, the colour began to spread to his arms, then his legs, and then his whole body! These were were really uncomfortable bumps, which had started to resemble raisins and hazelnuts. How bizzare!



Then, one terrible morning, little Charlie got the shock of his life: he pulled back the covers of his bed and stared in utter confused bewilderment. A jolt of panic shocked right through him; he couldn’t believe his brown eyes…


...he had started to split into little squares!


Frantically, he burst down stairs, where his mummy greeted him with a scream: “Aaaarh, my son, you’ve turned into a bar of Fruit ‘n Nut!” Charlie shook his chocolatey head in disbelief and sobbed. “Rover, no! Get down!” yelled his dad, as the family pooch licked him ravenously.









...NOT to be continued!

New Year resolutions are not the easiest things to come up with at the best of times - take News Year's Day for instance. It might only be mid August, but it's neither too early nor late to be considering one's well-meant statements of intention.

It came to me as I woke, as usual, to some breakfast news. GMTV were running an item on wasteful packaging. The jolly reporter stood amidst two equally laden supermarket trolleys - one difference: unnecessary external packing had been removed from trolley 'B'. The difference in bulk was visually remarkable - from mountain to molehill.

Thinking about it myself, in recent years I have noticed the need to take the bin out far more regularly than previous. I haven't got that much fatter over the period, so could conclude a link with an increase in packaging. Why do we need it and at what cost? It's pathetic purpose is to encourage us gullible consumers to consume more, afterwhich it fills landfills for an eternity. Pathetic indeed. Why the cardboard box around the toothpaste? The oven-ready meal? The half-dozen biscuits? The list is as inexhaustible as we believe the earth's resources to be.

As a liberal with a small 'L', I've always found my environmental concerns too ... inconvenient to put into practice. Not so this time. "Would you like a bag with that?" asked the checkout girl of me yesterday. "What - with a can of coke and a pack of chewing-gum? No thank YOU!" my assertive reply. As Jack Johnson says, we gotta 'reduce, re-use, re-cycle'. Now there's some trash talk!

The fourth Npower Test Match between England and Pakistan gets underway at the Oval today, England leading the series 2-0. With stand-in skipper Andrew Strauss very much in charge, the debate over who should lead the side to Australia this winter is hotting up.

Earlier this year, the ECB got themselves into a bit of a lather by declaring an injured Michael Vaughan as their captain, with Andrew Flintoff nominated first choice stand-in. Sod's law provided that the stand-in was soon stood-out with an ankle injury of his own.

Strauss is that rare thing in modern international cricket - a test captain who's earned his stripes as a leader in the domestic game. 'Levi' came into Test cricket at the age of 27 (pretty old by modern standards), having already captained his county for two seasons. Following a tough baptism in the one-day format against Sri Lanka (an area in which the whole side has performed woefully for years), Strauss quickly settled into captaining in the proper format (as we English call it). His handling of Panesar in particular has been a major factor in the series to date, giving the left armer every opportunity to contribute on every surface.

Strauss the batsman seems in no way shackled by responsibility - quite the reverse in fact. His current form has been influential in its own right, picking up from a patchy tour of the sub-continent. History could have helped us predict this: 1400 first class runs during his first season in charge at Middlesex tells its own story.

For what it's worth, add to this what a nice bloke he is. I know Allan Border didn't consider this a quality, but it didn't stop David Gower trouncing him in 1985. After the win at Headingley last week, My friend and I saw him talking with the media. Being slightly the worse for some celebratory beers, we let out an undignified scream of "Straussy!" at high decibel. To our utter delight, the target turned to acknowledge us with a big smiley wave: An Old Etonian with the common touch.

Now I'm not for one minute suggesting that waving at drunkards makes for an England captain, but I am saying that Strauss is looking, acting and living the part. Of course it must help to inherit a side of talented winners; history isn't quite so kind to the likes of Atherton and Gooch - both great players with vast knowledge of the game but without the success to back it up.

Fred Flintoff would insist he'd thrive on the pressure of leading an Ashes tour. Maybe so, but I'm not sure the risks warrant the appointment. His runs and wickets HAVE to come first if England are to stand any chance against the old enemy. Something would surely have to give with further workload - don't forget to add injury rehab to his list. This is not a new debate, England have been here before with Stewart (keeping & opening) and Botham, who was replaced by another Middlesex opening batsman as skipper!

Far be it from me to suggest that Flintoff's captaincy credentials be totally dismissed. The inspirational Lancastrian has undoubted qualities to lead. On the Skysports website, Michael Atherton suggests the all-rounder would make an excellent future captain at a time when he is unable to contribute so much with the ball. This sounds a sensible notion given the physical strains of international cricket and the obvious talent for leadership he's already shown in India.

A Cricketing View
Check out the link to an intelligently written cricketblog. He's American!!!!????

The DI's ID

Lying in the open park-land, Alicia's young face remained stunning. Her blue eyes held open as the wind blew strands of golden hair across her soft complexion. A river of deep crimson had stained the dirt beneath with its ugly beauty. A vicious end it had been, to a beautiful life.

This was by no means the first scene of its type to be commanded by DI John Stephenson, but it was clearly the cause of a most uncommon atmosphere. There was shock and revulsion from the team of junior constables as one would expect, but the reaction of their experienced leader was unsettling. Standing with his back to the rain, the DI drew a deep nasal breath. His eyes remained tightly shut as he held the stale air, shaking his aching head slowly. His shoulders shook out the sigh in a series of uncontrolled convulsions. How could this be? How?

No-one at the station could have foreseen this anguish; the connection hitherto unknown. The most unsatisfactory identification of Alicia Stephenson was complete.

Blogger resorts to dull interview shock.
My third day of blogging is proving harder than days one and two. I've tentatively started writing on such subjects as buying houses, England's wicket-keeping dilemma, story-writing for beginners and day-time home improvements TV shows. Barely got past the first sentence on any of these.

It's grim outside. From the top floor of my flat I can see the buses ferrying people in and out of the city. There's an elderly couple in the gloom at the bus stop now. I know, why don't I nip out and interview them for the blog? Maybe someone would find THAT interesting.

Me: Hi, do you mind if I ask you a few questions for my Blog?
OAP 1: You what?
Me: Never mind. I was just wondering if this bus went up Park Road.
OAP 2: You want the 76. That's the next stand.
Me: Thanks. Cold for this time of year, isn't it?
OAP 2: Miserable. I was just saying to our Henry, it's like bloomin winter.
OAP 1: (Agreeing) Winter.
Me: Are you going into town then?
OAP 2: Oh I, town, yeah.
Me: Up to anything in particular?
OAP 1 : (Interupting) Are you from the social?
Me: No, no, just passing time.
(A green and cream coloured double decker bus approaches from the distance).
Me: Is this yours, then?
OAP 2: Oh I.
Me: Have a nice day.
(slightly apologetic wave from OAP 2).

Okay, Parkinson I ain't. But it's given me an idea for some material later in the week. My mission is to find a celebrity (however minor) and interview them. Somehow I need to keep this stuff original if anyone's ever to show any interest in it.

Anyway, I'm off to a pretty good start so far with the blog. Installing the site visit counter yesterday revealled over 20 hits already! Now, admittedly, well over 15 of these have been me, logging in to check if anyone is reading this stuff... I'm clearly talking to myself at the moment. Time to log off.

Muses over album art

Storm Thorgerson's avant-garde cover for the current Muse album, 'Black Holes & Revelations' has had me deep in thought for some time now. Unable to contain myself any longer, I spent much of the weekend Googling away for answers. What might I discover: coded messages to meet the Cornish three-piece for tea & cakes by the sea? Or something a little more sinister?

My initial thoughts were soon confirmed: here were four baldy men sat at a table on the surface of Mars; the earth and its moon clearly visible above. On the table are three miniature horses - referencing equine transportation for the 'Knights of Cydonia',the album's spectacularly apocalyptic penultimate track (Cydonia being an area of Mars). That must make the four foliclly challenged chaps the Knights.

What I hadn't previously reckoned with were the links with the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse, they of the 'Book of Revelations' (A.K.A. Wikipedia.org.) A reference, surely, to the album's mystic title. The four horsemen traditionally represent war, famine, pestilence (false Christ) and death. Heavy stuff. My first problem with this is that Thorgerson has only presented three horses for our four nights. The black one's missing - so no transport for the Knight of 'famine' to traverse his Cydonian landscape. Mmmmmm. This sent me scouring the cover-art for a hidden black horse somewhere - after hours with a magnifying glass, my 'where's Willy' game produced nothing. Could any significance be drawn from this? A plea for fair-trade?

Next, if our knights did represent the hitherto mentioned powers of evil, which could be which? By my reckoning, from left to right: Mr Death wears religious symbols on his jacket, but is blinkered towards the certainty of our mortality; Mr Pestilence wears the all-seeing eye of God watching over us; Mr War is dressed as a sword; and the somewhat rotund Mr Famine is dressed in greedy gold, signifying the inequity of world power. He doesn't deserve a horse!

While I might be wide of the mark, I take at least one clear, unhidden message from all of this: Art continues to live and breathe in album covers. I remember as a kid being hypnotised the first time I saw Peter Blake's Sgt Sgt Pepper's cover. My jaw hit the floor when a friend pointed out that the Black Flower of Death was pointing at Paul McCartney, revealing his supposed fatality in a car crash (Wednesday morning at five o'clock; he didn't notice that the lights had changed).

Storm Thorgerson's portfolio has bridged pop-art generations. Most notably, he's the name behind the iconic Pink Floyd album covers such as 'Dark Side of The Moon' and 'Wish You Were Here'. His unique style of photography stands so clearly as to demand questions and answers from its audience - just as art should. "Art is about flights of the imagination," he told Q magazine in 1992.

Whatever the real significance of the Blackholes & Revelations cover, let your imagination run wild with the possibilities.

The real reasons behind athletic under-performance in the UK.


What is it with the BBC? Why oh why did they feel the need to retire from the track their succesful old theme tune to 'International Athletics'?

Derr de de derrr (bump! bump!) de derr de derr de derrrrr de derrrrr.

That fanfare was a signal for our greatest athletes to take their places at the starting line, anticipate the gun and go for gold.

There is a blame culture in this country; people want to wag their fingers in familiar directions to explain away sporting under-achievement. In this instant, it's our system of funding our best athletes. Six poxy medals (most of which bronze) is all we have to show for our efforts in the European Athletics Championships so far. It has put the motherland 17th in the medals table, behind such sporting luminaries as Lithuania, Latvia and Belarus.

"Why," ask the back-page columnists, "do we continue to molly-coddle mediocrity with handouts from the National Lottery?" Watching last night's roll-out, I found myself laughing at the dicotemy. Surely Dale Winton wasn't the orangey face behind these lack-lustre performances. Does an extra midweek Lotto really breed complacency amongst the elite? Perhaps Christine Ohuruogu was out buying a 'lucky-dip' when the man from the BAF turned up for his sample.

The truth is, there are probably as many reasons for athletic underperformance as there are numbers in the 'Thunderball'. You might as well blame it on the Beeb's change of theme tune... The idiots!

Duncan Priestley
13th August 2006