Joanne Mallon's Opposable Thumbs

Game of effing Thrones

 

Excuse the radio silence, I've been nose-deep in a Game of Thrones box set. This is basically my life right now:

 

 

 

If you haven't seen it, Game of Thrones is like Lord of the Rings with boobs and beheadings, extra helpings of both. There is a character known as Mother of Dragons, who is the one person who doesn't write a parenting blog but really should.

It's kind of like The Wire in that you can't dive in at the middle and you have to pay attention. No watching with your laptop open idly browsing Amazon for cheap ebook offers.

And even if you are paying attention, you'll probably need to pause it from time to time to ask Who was that guy and why did he just get his head chopped off? Who's that cool giantess? Why is that mean oik still alive?

We are about half way through the box set of season two and already agreed that it's going to need a second watch, if only to check that the giant black fart that killed a man actually happened. Season One needed two approaches too, and it didn't even have the murderous blackfart ghost.

Part of what makes it interesting is that there's no traditional story arc, no hero's journey - good guys are not guaranteed to triumph; baddies don't necessarily get their comeuppance. Some characters start off good then go sour, some become less sour, others seem as vile as possible and then get worse.

Game of Thrones was largely filmed in Northern Ireland, in places I visited as a child like Castle Ward, Tollymore Forest and Shane's Castle. Looks like it's becoming a new thing for Norn Irn to be famous for, which makes a change from...er...that other thing.

And if you have seen it, join me now in a singalong of the theme tune

 

 

How do you smuggle a custard pie into parliament?

Something has been bugging me for a few days.

Last year I went to an event at the Houses of Parliament, and the security was incredibly tight - you would let people into your knickers easier than these guys allow you over the threshold of the Palace of Westminster.

So how did that guy manage to smuggle in a flan to fling at Rupert Murdoch?

These are the theories I've come up with so far:

• It was a dehydrated pie and he spend two hours spitting on it to restore it to full size
• He's really Derren Brown and can do whatever he bloody well likes
• Wear pie as a wig. Perhaps this explains why Boris Johnson looks so untroubled by the chaos around him - he's prepared for any assailants by the custard pie he keeps on his head at all times.
• Ensure pie's already in the room, as part of the refreshments. Doable with help, but then again you're a bit stuffed if somebody eats it during the teabreak.
• Blame it on the Tories. This explanation worked well in the Eighties and is still going strong.

What's your theory?

TV's fartiest moments

Of the many millions of blogs that exist, only this one has a category where Farty TV resides.

This category was born when I saw a casting call about a programme called Fart Camp, which was looking for contributors. The idea behind that was that very flatulent people would be taken away and given expert help. It never seems to have made it on air, possibly awaiting the invention of smell-o-vision.

So Farty TV is essentially an odious-sounding programme, that you would never want to be involved in making, watching or turning off. A real eyeball-burner of a turd, in other words.

Which brings me to this:

 

Ladies, are you tempted? We all aspire to look like celebrities, don't we? But don't get too big, 'cos they're looking for participants who are maximum size 18. And remember ladies, looking like yourself and being happy in your own skin is for losers.

I think I'd rather watch Fart Camp.

 

 

Do you want to be a TV tech presenter?

Becoming a TV presenter is an incredibly popular career choice amongst bears of little brain, but the opportunities to do it are few and far between. So I thought it was worth highlighting this opportunity from Channel Four. Especially since in this one, you get to use your brain - what a treat!

They're after somebody who can talk knowledgeably but in an accessible way about technology and gadgets for a new TV show

 

I won't be applying myself - they say they're after a "fresh face" and mine is anything but. Plus I still do a happy dance if I manage to successfully send a text, so I suspect my tech knowledge is rather less than what's required. But you guys with the gizmos should definitely give it a shot.

You can leave your hat on

I cannot stop watching this. Makes the time I got a bell stuck up my nose pale into insignificance.

 

 

Like Sean's hat, it was a tiny bell. The nurse got it out with her fingernail, so it all turned out well in the end.

 

Could you be Gordon Brown's hairy back?

So today I am writing my newsletter for businesses who want to raise their media profile. I always have a section at the end for journalists' requests - nothing sleazy, I try to keep it to stuff that could legitimately promote a business. But I do bung in a few funnies for my own amusement, because there is always some dire-sounding programme from BBC3 wanting people who'll sell their granny for chips.

And that is how I came across this request - for a body double for Gordon Brown's hairy back. Males aged 18 - 99 may apply, but be warned that a topless scene is required, if not full on nudity. It's for "a major TV and national newspaper project", which makes you wonder if the political parties are taking their election advertising in a previously undiscovered direction. Or maybe that 3rd election debate is going to be more memorable than the others.

Any takers?

I Shouldn't Be Sniggering But...

...to my eternal shame, I am.

My former boss, Doug Carnegie, is splashed all over the Daily Mail today for apparently calling Ronnie Corbett a "little ****". The Mail gives no indication as to what the four stars stand for - perhaps it's "love" or "dear". Though I suspect not. The story got out because Doug emailed his thoughts about RC to all 60 staff of The One Show, where he's now editor. You don't email that many people and expect your thoughts to remain private.

Now Doug is a fine fellow with much to recommend him. But I am not at all surprised that he has been tripped up by technology. We used to work together on a debate show hosted by Nicky Campbell, and would often have cause to review video tapes of previous shows. Doug would only do this with an underling sitting by his side to insert the tape and press play and rewind when required, as even bog standard tape players were beyond his technical capabilities.

As a fellow technodunce, I bow to Doug. What a hero!

How to Leave Your TV Job

Yesterday I went to the House of Commons. In honour of the occasion I left my balaclava and dirty Belfast accent at home. Surprisingly, on the way in, they gave us a little noose to wear. I know some people find politics depressing, but even so, that's a pretty negative way to get started, don't you think? Turned out the noose was just to hang your security pass off, and not for ease of offing yourself. Phew.

Speaking of making your exit, here's an interesting article written by Barry Shaverin, TV producer turned legal eagle, all about how to quit your job in TV and do something less ridiculous instead. Though the thing about leaving media is that it doesn't always leave you quite so easily. So I am counting the seconds till Mr Shaverin has a programme in deveopment about legal eagles. The Truth About Law...Dawn Porter Does Law...Big Brother's Legal Advisor: Big Barrister. You know it's coming Baz, don't fight it.

Want to be on TV? You Sure About That?

I think there must be something in the gin over at TV Towers. Given that many of my coaching clients are looking to raise their profile in the media world, I've always got my eyes open for opportunities to pass on to them. But lately I've been rubbing my eyes in disbelief because some of the requests are just plain..odd. And I have a high capacity for odd. Take your pick from

• The BBC programme that's looking for people obsessed with vampires. Only those with own coffin need apply.
• Also from the BBC, the self-explanatory Famous, Rich and Jobless.
• Equally self-explanatory is new show Move Like Michael Jackson. I assume they mean when he was alive. I can't imagine his current movements would make for very compelling TV.
• Ethnic Plastic Surgery on Channel Four sounds frankly terrifying. Keeping well away from that one in case they try to laser off my rosy Irish cheeks.
• Another programme wants to know if your children see spirits. Well, yes they do, but they always know to get cider when I send them down the off licence.
• But winner of the award for oddest show that's currently looking for punters has to be the documentary on cross-species nurturing. Or to translate into plain English - they're looking for anyone who's breastfed a pig. Or a cat, horse, donkey or wildebeast. They're not fussy, just as long as you've breastfed an animal of some description. Nice to know factual television is still in pursuit of The Issues That Matter.

Good News and Bad News for Doctor Who Fans

The good news is:

The BBC are launching a competition where the winner gets to star in their very own Doctor Who scene, to be shown on TV, in a show hosted by John Barrowman.

The bad news:

To win you have to make an alien costume and send in a picture of you wearing it. And as an experienced TV pro, I suspect that the fun doesn't end there.

I know some of you will regard this as all good news, and if that's the case then you're probably in with a better chance of winning. But be quick, the closing date is midnight on 5th April. Details and application form are here. They've extended this deadline for a week, so I'm guessing the queue ain't massive so far.

If you get through, next stage is an invitation to an 'Alien Activity Day'. I would so love to go to that.

 Though be warned, the ever parsimonious BBC will only pay basic travel expenses and will not cover "helicopters, planes, and any alien aircraft etc". Oh pshaw Auntie, with your space humour you are really spoiling us.