Morwenna Banks: Be Mine Valentine
Mummy Pig-less
Absolutely, pre-endeavoring
Our love affair, impossibly upended soon, Absolutely cleaving SNL, success stole, you know, the moon
вал чувствует себя липким Молчи.
And after that he sang ful loude and cleere,
And kiste his wyf, and made wantown cheere
He was al coltissh, ful of ragerye,
And ful of jargon as a flekked pye.
Our love affair impossibly, upended sooner, from Absolutely, cleaving SNL, success stole (you know), the moon
'Little Girl' whose UK successes, I recall hearing from her Cornish mouth, of friends, workmates, fellow comedians, in a boy's club which through little effort she eclipsed, writing stamina large of a Beat poet, miraculous of a man whose boy's will he need a mascot, but got, instead, a Trojan horse-bearing gift, every bit the woman she now is, without encumbrance of knowing so.
“I don't know what to say. Thank you.” “That's very kind of you. Thank you.”
...
Thank you. / Thanks so much. / Thanks a lot. / Thanks a bunch. / Thanks a ton. / Thanks!
“Thanks a bunch! I really need an extra dose of caffeine right now!”
“Thanks! ...
“Thank you!”
Only 'Channel 4-Famous' then, for Little Girl -- me, without the slightest way to see (no Internet, no Channel 4, and no imperative to send a ridiculous package of 3/4 inch masters over if they weren't compatible, while I was busy thinking the same thing)-- not long, though.
Intoxicator funny, I thought, more compersive now to dynamics of creative remonstrance, appreciating conversely, that which nullify, equalize, too, colloquial deprecation of relationships which beat to death their competitive romantic notions.
Slowly burgeoning, never-mentioned, except upon request, my music career, very soon to be one.
LP, then one successful comeback record, produced by me for famous artist, just happy to pull it off.
Back from a decade's worth of life, the day I made a call, she answered, another unexpected woman made me happy.
Much more recursive, Morwenna, whom I'd helped at something, is today, for me, manageable, even potable; happy accomplishment, disappointing end, or comfortable vista to look on from more horizontal vantage, seeing now, as I wish I would have then, is seeing what I'm working out.
But in stride, I knew, if only by having known before, with Absolutely and SNL, was how she'd take it. It being, what she needed to dominate the world.
On her way back from SNL's failure, in retrospect, it being 2020:
nothing succeeds like failure, and failure's no success at all.
And nothing like failure had anything to do -- at all to do, with her -- her comedic acumen, flawless, her facility of discrimination -- made her all, Little Girl moldering, screenwriter cum-lately; even now, filthily famous, doting sow, guilty of neither rooting unkosher slop for love of money, or, if she not know, I'll tell her here: for work it is, no foiled pig, is she.
Sparerib, Peppa Pig, and foil the child (kid quit at 1,000-quid-an-hour)?
Mummy Pig's umbraciousless twat‽ (Interrobang, ya right.)
Already, pigs fly-high off-set, empty-nest, no nets, vocalizing chords need rest -- 'mummy' need a lie-down -- gender-dysphoric voiced Peppa Pig -- teenage pigette, known by all swinephiles, ask Humbert or V., or Amis or me, an inexact Nature never so surprising -- penpenultimate role, Las Vegan Residency, estimated worth ... never be able, no matter encouragement, to belly through to trough at that banquet.
Puberty, 'it will fuck you up,' said Larkin, never (instead, substituting Parents for the villain), needs nothing like a 1,000-quid-an-hour Prime Pig Gig to fuck up what becomes a legend least, a child-actor's nightmare, laid golden fleeced.
But, after taxes, residuals and points amortizing, with expected serious drink and drugs and their frying, life-expectancy loss averaged, plus child star VO fry, post-career swing ... even star net recoup, his and his her fellow sowmates, 2020 - 2040, last expected LE, final, primary EOL payout -- somewhere neighborly to a porky one billion pounds, barring Acts of God, whose existence indemnified and expurgated by the acts-part.
Bizarre, oftentimes mother, AND all Peppa Priggishness aside, the then, not 'Wow, it sounds like that mommy on TV, mommy,' you know, was, to me, way more...
'...Wow, that chick in 14-A, reading Hotel New Hampshire looks like I should try show New Orleans.'
Wen-yen, I had, have, and always will have, bad.
But, recused from having had, and still having (my shrink says, a desire to punish myself for the choice I made to deny myself happiness at that moment and forever still...in favor of the string of humorless slags since...We're still working on the second part of it), less as I go, Absolutely, if you knew Tam...
Peppa: 'They fuck you up, your mum and dad.'
You'd be advised to read and understand ASAP.
Her crazed overwork away from 'Bad' man ethic, manic in the day, now rebooted 2.0, still left time (during two Summers in the French Quarter, for shagging, writing, scripts, screenplays, AND getting a call from Lorne at SNL, which changed her life, at worst, for better (I told ya).
'we snogged eesh othre like ya due wen ya met onna plane fore ya famouslike...'!
Young MB fell in love...sorry.
Ya can't blame me for her vice,
or HER vice for my verso.
POW! One baby, no communication.
She gets first voice, Pig cash. I get fuck-all; which means, I guess, We're OVER.
GOOD news, this is the only way she'll know.
I am breaking up with her. NOW!
Our communication has gone from Victorian to Neanderthal to post-virtual, in the time it took her to say, family and, hugely successful career, which I don't define her by; so you lot, read it, or not, more than would, aforementioned details fairly put; our love affair is 'Absolutely Out of Business'!
Channel 4 improvisation show Whose Line Is It Anyway?, notably Paul Merton, Josie Lawrence, Tony Slattern and host Clive Anderson Aired February 20, 2017 3:00 PM on Channel 4 Kingdom Language Englishmen Documentary, Special Interest
The Morwenna Banks Show - Absolutely - Funny Lady!
The Multi Talented, Highly Under Rated, Character Comedy Actress!
improves after 20 seconds!
This was her very own show on Channel 5, stuffed full of her signature batty women with crazy accents. The budget for it must have been tiny, you can see her reading almost every line in the sketches, which usually means there was no time to rehearse - it's still fab ;-)
Ends abruptly, maybe I didn't like the last sketch!
"Moving on, were we moving!"
In the early 2000's Sky TV made a number of comedy series Time Gentlemen Please,The Strangerers,Harry Enfield and Baddiels Syndrome.
As far as I know Baddiels Syndrome has never been repeated or available to buy.
It certainly has an odd cast including the Guardian critic Pete Bradshaw as a English Lord who also co-wrote with David Baddiel and Morwenna Banks as an illegal immigrant cleaner!
I quite liked it and it got funnier as the series progressed but some silly advertising suggesting it was the UK Seinfeld led to it getting panned when it was on and the live studio audience wasn't a good idea either.
James Atkinson
This show should be used as torture.
F00tballM0nkey
Thanks for uploading....I went to the recording of this. Interesting evening out but the acting is shocking. Baddiel recycling his stand-up material.
5:27 AM
I am interested in those places where popular culture and avant-garde culture intersect. As a critic, I want to achieve a new understanding of culture in both its aesthetic and political aspects; as a journalist, I want to suggest whatever I figure out to an audience in an entertaining and provocative way.
—Christgau, 1977
.@rxgau #Punkrock v #Hippies #RobertChristgauHippies were rainbow extremists; punks are romantics of black-and-white. Hippies forced warmth; punks cultivate cool.STILL #theBard —
[...] Hippies kidded themselves about free love; punks pretend that s&m is our condition. As symbols of protest, swastikas are no less fatuous than flowers.
#Christgau's Record Guide (1981) Christgau, Robert. "Consumer Guide '70s: S". Christgau's Record Guide: Rock Albums of the Seventies. Ticknor & Fields.
"Culture of New York City" [^#WikipediaIntentionalNonEdit #WINE - #ed]
[N]ew York City has been described as the cultural capital of the world. [...] "'The American modern dance' developed in New York in the early 20th century."
[#OMFG! This #WIKIPEDIAN is CARRYING HER BALLS IN #ClydeBarrow's wheelbarrow!]
^A B-class article from Wikipedia #BClassWikipedia #CClassWikipedia #WINE
[cue #Ramones [1][2][3][4][5]
Latkes (לאַטקע, sometimes spelled latka)
{^OK,[#Latka (#לאַטקע, sometimes #spelledLatka)]
[...]
The city was the top venue for jazz in the 1940s, expressionism in the 1950s and home to hip hop, punk rock, and the Beat Generation.
Find sources: "Culture of New York City" – news · newspapers · books · scholar · JSTOR (#jonathanpostal)
.@firefox sends #AdolphHitler #AleisterCrowley [maybe @Windows or ] to #accessibility way into my #video which becomes 'first known use of #PlusOne' 1977
Merriam-Webster.com ask, @t 14 January 2020
⸮ [I wrote about 1979's Alien sequel, the 1986 timorously titular Debutante Bal with a presumably ofay chaperone, plus-une pour Le Crillon Bal Debutante, (yes, it really was given the name) "Aliens" [recte malmonikered] (eponymous ⸮ formulaic № 1st < № 2nd, scatological, supervenient and ponderous, pluralized, superordinal and 7-years-too-late for recovering from a long bout of amnesia...forget it). Directed by James Cameron, 'Aliens,' I now judge his least equal worst sequel by name, existence, told for love, money, franchise, or 'the rule of three'... but i said it better last night...
"...the word I'd used to describe 'Aliens,' the word for a color for which I can never not get no satisfaction choosing, but one I chose, laid down, and which word magically transformed into a telescope of white and gold, which then turned into an object d'art, in an exhibit in Toronto, just today. Here's an excerpt from my this morning, tonight: a 35-year-old film review turns into what turns out to be a maelstrom of my mind:
"...First-of-its-kind, never-to-be-outdone horror, action, arty (All that Jazz), comedic (Tootsie), Cameron would revive the great sci-fi femme role with balls and big guns to shrink Arnold S's in this testosterone-uterine confusion set in space the likes not seen then since that early ACC preordinal, prequel, psycho-futurity, 2001, whose Hal was no hammerhead, but could creep out a crowd just by sheer monotony and, as Elvis learned, the narcotic tonic poem spell of 'Also Sprach Zarathustra,' hitting four tones more magiscule than whomever, but never, nein, did it for its co-creators, Strauss and Nietzsche, somehow from after which this piece famously comes and comes to be equally named (extremely competently), 'Thus spoke Zarathustra,' would most certainly, too-Teutonic to disagree, be inspiration for one of Elvis's Jewish guys, the one conducting the orchestra, no less.
Elvis's 'Sable on Rye'-guy, Maestro Joe Guerico whose life's work was for Elvis and for Elvis was Joe's easy comprehension that sartorial majesty, purples and golds, Edwardian collars and greatcoats not for show, for the potentate whose shit they fit: equal to the majestic misty castles whose spires rose out of that ever green Black Forrest, where another Royal figure cut a swath slightly more insane, His German King, Highness , in his arched arbor. This tribute, though posthumously puissant, was for not one, but both Kings (*I will spare you the long Jungian grandiosity I considered of these two Kings, their two tributes written to them and of them.) And it will never be an invention too weak for its subject, or its perfect subject's achievement, a never-too-weak, fully Vegas Hilton Orchestration, fully inappropriate and unprecedented, pre-show encore (Joycean epiphany before the first chapter begins).
And then there was that, and more than that there could not be, but less would not have been enough; thanks to a bizarrely pant-suited Jewish hipster, whose gold dangled freely down his hairy open shirt, but whose beard gave him an oddly right-on vibe of something between a big time bandsman, Lenny Bruce, and an Orchard Street haberdasher, but whose hip city-swagger saw him wield that baton like a joint where he put the first purpled goosebumps up and under those miniskirts at matinee, forget nights, night after night, until Elvis sidestepped out, out through that crashing clashing collision that could only meant he was there, where he made them and those goosebumps go for the softest flesh where they'd stay.
.................
...featuring the Giger-perfect, multi-useful, prop-Alien whose bitumen sleek impression comes first and best from Giger's Enzo Ferrari-attention to detail and depth which makes his epidermis as luxe as Enzo's calf's leather is lilting, but instead of the color of peanut butter, it's a ruminant Stephen Hawkings Albert Einstein badinage on the inside folded black hole after dinner over tepid deathless sips of Lavazza, its stilling, starless patina, inscintilate mal-hued, guilty en absentia, insensate, where no lights reflect, they absorb...
'Black is the badge of hell, / The hue of dungeons, and the suit of night.' -- Shakespeare
The maw Hitchcock never saw, only Lynch would touch, whose black magick gleam matched his eye, Anger, would come close, his Candy Apple, polished, neon bloody, Carbon Monoxide, Snow White-red depths, only morticians and funeral directors know when the decedent has succumbed, 'dead red,' bright pearlescent sheen, lurid, lipstick lascivious, clangorous hue, fire engine Toro all but color-impaired, unprepared bulls, whose sword SAW red.
mrjyn
under those miniskirts at matinee and night after night, Elvis sidestepped out -- out through that crashing, clashing, collision, only meant one thing, Thus Spoke Zarathustra and Elvis were there, where he made those goosebumps go for the softest flesh where they'd stay
σκοτεινός ιππότης [common] skoteinós ippótis dark knight Similar Words λανθασμένος adjective, noun [uncommon] lanthasménos wrong, mistaken αμαρτωλός adjective, noun [uncommon] amartolós sinful, sinner, trespasser, peccant, peccable ιερόσυλος adjective [uncommon] ierósylos sacrilegious ανήθικος adjective [uncommon] aní̱thikos immoral, bawdy, profligate, obscene, nonmoral άθρησκος adjective [uncommon] áthriskos irreligious, unreligious ανίερος adjective [uncommon] aníeros unholy, unhallowed, sacrilegious άδικος adjective [uncommon] ádikos unfair, unjust, unrighteous, wrong, wrongful άνομος adjective [uncommon] ánomos lawless, nefarious, illegal, iniquitous ασεβής adjective [uncommon] asevís irreverent, ungodly, impious, blasphemous, regardless κακός adjective [uncommon] kakós bad, evil, ill, wicked, mischievous
References in modern culture
Also sprach Zarathustra AND Thus Spoke Zarathustra or Thus Spake Zarathustra)...article is about the musical work Richard Strauss, 1894. For Nietzsche after which this piece is named, see Thus Spoke Zarathustra.
For other uses, see Also sprach Zarathustra (disambiguation).
Also sprach Zarathustra, Op. 30 (German: About this soundlisten), Thus Spoke Zarathustra or Thus Spake Zarathustra) is a tone poem by Richard Strauss, composed in 1896 and inspired by Friedrich Nietzsche's philosophical novel of the same name. The composer conducted its first performance on 27 November 1896 in Frankfurt. A typical performance lasts half an hour.
The initial fanfare – titled "Sunrise" in the composer's program notes – became well known after its use in Stanley Kubrick's 1968 film 2001: A Space Odyssey.
Elvis Presley used the opening fanfare as the opening piece in his concerts between 1971 and his death in 1977, and as the introduction to several of his live albums, including Elvis: As Recorded at Madison Square Garden (1972), Aloha from Hawaii Via Satellite (1973), and Elvis in Concert (1977).