John Lennon – you may remember him from such bands as The Beatles, Plastic Ono Band and Getting Drunk For Two Years With Harry Nilsson – is, like Michael Jackson and Elvis, one of the deadest, hardest working muvvers in showbiz.
Of course, being adopted by America, Lennon still stirs up a lot of interest with people still keen to paw over his memory.
Naturally, memorabilia is the big winner. So what’s being sold now? Would you believe us if we told you his teeth were up for auction? Cloning scientists, do your worst!
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Small people are just weird aren’t they? What happened to them in the womb to make them so abjectly tiny? Could they simply not be bothered to ingest the nutrients their mother gave them?
Randy Newman had it right when he sang: “Short people got no reason to live”, pointing out their “tiny little teeth” and their penchant for wearing “platform shoes on their nasty little feet.”
You have to “pick ‘em up just to say hello”. So what’s the point of them?
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Science is a confusing beast. In the pro-column, it gave us the internet, space travel and video games… but in the con-column, it gave us bombs, animal-testing and sentient Glade air-fresheners.
Sadly for science, for every likeable kook like Einstein, there’s a sanctimonious swine or a million tripping over themselves to bray like sarcastic mules about a whole host of topics.
The worst thing to talk to science-nuts about is God. Yeah, the supposed creator. Science will stand by its Large Hadron Collider, make absolutely no ‘Large Hard-On Collider’ jokes and moo about God not existing.
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We can categorically guarantee without a shadow of a doubt that our readers know exactly what an experiment is. Some of you will have studied science in school and will have been involved in the dissemination of liquid from beaker to conical flask; some of you might even be scientists. If you are then can we suggest that you keep an eye on that petri dish over there as it appears to be sentient.
Even the regular readers who trawl the site looking for something to get up in arms about are familiar with experimentation, having been used as test subjects by a series of alien species with nefarious designs on the rectal areas of people who believe in a Michael Jackson-led arachnid conspiracy, coordinated from the moon.
Odd-balls, basically.
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A while ago, there was a programme called Victorian Farm and, quite frankly, it was howlingly bad. People showed off old stuff and talked endlessly and enthusiastically, engorging the minds only of farming enthusiasts. Basically, it was gadget porn for people who have been defrosted after being cryogenically frozen in Victorian Britain.
Now, we’ve been given Victorian Pharmacy (BBC Two, Thursday, 5 August, 9pm) which didn’t promise to be any better.
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A competition is underway to find a new name for the Large Hadron Collider, which apparently doesn’t have a decent ring to it. Get your thinking caps on, you mothers of science.
The multi-billion pound machine needs a sexier brand, and scientists have dispensed with their usual methods by simply inviting suggestions from YOU, the GENERAL PUBLIC. How about Large Hardon Collider? Oh no, that’s already been done.
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