Vagueness and the Aftermath - A sporadic diary

[kinboshi]

...

I think that was the idea, to show how thinking has moved on.  ...

I'm sure that's the writers' intentions but this only works if thinking has moved on.

If it hasn't then it's reinforcing the stereotypes rather than laughing at them.

Same for any series, film, book, etc., surely?

[RED-DOG]

Ashes to ashes.... OMG!

what did you think of the programme Tom?

I like the series, the idea behind it and the characters a lot but I thought this episode reinforced a lot of the prejudices that exist for the Gypsy communities. Probably because back in the early 1980s, when the series is now set, they were very prevalent, more so than they are now?

The programme did highlight the prejudice that we have to deal with, so in that sense it was good, but I can't for the life of me think why they don't invite someone from the Gypsy community to act in an advisory capacity so that they could at least offer something resembling an accurate portrayal.

So many mistakes. Every Gypsy who saw it would be laughing their socks off.

Don't get me started on stereotyping...

[kinboshi]

I do love it that in every police drama, the lead detective ALWAYS drinks whisky neat.  Every one, without fail.

[Dingdell]

I do love it that in every police drama, the lead detective ALWAYS drinks whisky neat.  Every one, without fail.

Admittedly that is wrong - when I was in the police it was almost every officer! Late night lock ins at the police bar were some of the best nights in my life. 

[tikay]

I do love it that in every police drama, the lead detective ALWAYS drinks whisky neat.  Every one, without fail.

Admittedly that is wrong - when I was in the police it was almost every officer! Late night lock ins at the police bar were some of the best nights in my life. 

Lock-ins? That's policemen in uniform, & handcuffs, right?

[Dingdell]

I do love it that in every police drama, the lead detective ALWAYS drinks whisky neat.  Every one, without fail.

Admittedly that is wrong - when I was in the police it was almost every officer! Late night lock ins at the police bar were some of the best nights in my life. 

Lock-ins? That's policemen in uniform, & handcuffs, right?

As I said - some of the best nights in .....

[kinboshi]

I do love it that in every police drama, the lead detective ALWAYS drinks whisky neat.  Every one, without fail.

Admittedly that is wrong - when I was in the police it was almost every officer! Late night lock ins at the police bar were some of the best nights in my life. 

But only the lead detective keeps a bottle an two glasses in the left bottom drawer of their desk.

I'm sure the rank and file slug it straight from the bottle.

[Geo the Sarge]

Ashes to ashes.... OMG!

what did you think of the programme Tom?

I like the series, the idea behind it and the characters a lot but I thought this episode reinforced a lot of the prejudices that exist for the Gypsy communities. Probably because back in the early 1980s, when the series is now set, they were very prevalent, more so than they are now?

The programme did highlight the prejudice that we have to deal with, so in that sense it was good, but I can't for the life of me think why they don't invite someone from the Gypsy community to act in an advisory capacity so that they could at least offer something resembling an accurate portrayal.
So many mistakes. Every Gypsy who saw it would be laughing their socks off.

Don't get me started on stereotyping...

It's the same whatever the subject, the Scots, Welsh, Irish, Pakistanis and Indians for example. Same can be said with the differing regions, Scousers, Yorkshiremen etc. and also with the Police and Army, most of these programmes work predominately to the stereotypes.

Geo

[TightEnd]

Words almost failed me, at least Rachael smiled!

[The_nun]

 

[Kev B]

Words almost failed me, at least Rachael smiled!

Which one's Rachael?

[RED-DOG]

Words almost failed me, at least Rachael smiled!

I was sponsored by 118 118.

[RED-DOG]

Ever broken a bone? My little granddaughter (Who's limbs are similar in diameter to spaghetti) managed to fall from a trampoline the other day and break her arm. You know that bit between the elbow and the shoulder? (The bit where everyone else except Snoopy has a bicep) Well that's the bit she broke.

Apparently,  the break was so bad that it damaged the blood supply to her arm, and the nerves to her thumb and forefinger. Thankfully she is well on the mend now. Her blood supply has been restored, and the prognosis for her nerves is good, which is more than can be said for mine, (it was a scary couple of days)

Anyway. The incident sparked a discussion about broken bones. It seems that about half the adult population have had one, and the other half haven't. (Yes Kin, I do know that the last part of that sentence is redundant.)

Those who have sustained a breakage all seem to have at least some sort of story to tell. Here's mine.

My first broken bone (excluding nose) came when I was well into adulthood. A horse pushed me into a ditch, I went over on my ankle and the most excruciating pain you could possibly imagine shot up my leg.

I went to hospital. As I limped into A&E, I passed a parked ambulance. Sitting in the driver's seat was an old guy reading the paper. “What's wrong son?” He asked.
“I've broke me leg.” I replied.
He peered at me over his glasses for a moment, “No you haven't son.”

He was right. I'd just sprained it. Within a couple of days, It was as right as rain.

Not long after that, I was standing on the top of an old lady's garden shed so that I could reach some ivy that she wanted removing from the wall. The shed was only about 5ft high, so when I wanted to get down, I didn't bother with the step ladder, I just jumped onto the lawn.

When I landed, here was a loud “Crack”and I immediately started to scream like a very determined contestant in a Tarzan impersonator competition.  Now this was real pain. It made the sprained ankle pain pale into insignificance. This pain was so bad that I threw up in the garden, and I don't part with food easily.

 Didn't know what to do. I knocked on the old lady's door, told her that I had broken my leg, and asked if she could please send for an ambulance. She disappeared into another room and, after what seemed like a thousand years, came back waving her purse saying “Thank you young man, how much do I owe you?”

My next plan was to lie in the middle of the road and wait for a passing motorist to either run over me and put me out of my misery, or stop and drive me to hospital. Unfortunately, It was a very quiet road and, apart from the occasional ball of tumbleweed, nothing came past. Eventually I realized that I would have to drive myself to the hossie.

I have little recollection of the journey. It was a surreal, driving one legged,  pain filled nightmare.

I arrived at the hospital and  fell from the cab of my pickup on to the tarmac. Passing staff rushed to my rescue.

This time when I went into A&E I was on a stretcher with my jeans cut from ankle to hip exposing a leg that had swelled to twice the size of a big swelled up thing, I was crying like a baby.

The same old guy, looking for all the world like he hadn't moved an inch since the last time I was here, lowered his paper,  peered at me over his glasses and said, “Yep, you've broken it this time”.

 
 

[faireycakes]

Good story, great hair.

[phatomch]

do you think you could handle this for a brekkie red?