The Angry Exile: How to stall in Top Gear.

The Hangman

Into our town the Hangman came,
Smelling of gold and blood and flame.
And he paced our bricks with a diffident air,
And built his frame in the courthouse square.
The scaffold stood by the courthouse side,
Only as wide as the door was wide;
A frame as tall, or little more,
Than the capping sill of the courthouse door.
And we wondered, whenever we had the time,
Who the criminal, what the crime
That the Hangman judged with the yellow twist
of knotted hemp in his busy fist.
And innocent though we were, with dread,
We passed those eyes of buckshot lead --
Till one cried: "Hangman, who is he
For whom you raised the gallows-tree?"
Then a twinkle grew in the buckshot eye,
And he gave us a riddle instead of reply:
"He who serves me best," said he,
"Shall earn the rope of the gallows-tree."
And he stepped down, and laid his hand
On a man who came from another land.
And we breathed again, for another's grief
At the Hangman's hand was our relief
And the gallows-frame on the courthouse lawn
By tomorrow's sun would be struck and gone.
So we gave him way, and no one spoke,
Out of respect for his Hangman's cloak.
The next day's sun looked mildly down
On roof and street in our quiet town,
And stark and black in the morning air
Was the gallows-tree in the courthouse square.
And the Hangman stood at his usual stand
With the yellow hemp in his busy hand;
With his buckshot eye and his jaw like a pike
And his air so knowing and business-like.
And we cried, "Hangman, have you not done
Yesterday, with the foreign one?"
Then we fell silent, and stood amazed,
"Oh, not for him was the gallows raised."
He laughed a laugh as he looked at us:
"Did you think I'd gone to all this fuss
To hang one man? That's a thing I do
To stretch a rope when the rope is new."
Then one cried "Murder!" and one cried "Shame!"
And into our midst the Hangman came
To that man's place. "Do you hold," said he,
"with him that was meant for the gallows-tree?"
And he laid his hand on that one's arm.
And we shrank back in quick alarm!
And we gave him way, and no one spoke
Out of fear of his Hangman's cloak.
That night we saw with dread surprise
The Hangman's scaffold had grown in size.
Fed by the blood beneath the chute,
The gallows-tree had taken root;
Now as wide, or a little more,
Than the steps that led to the courthouse door,
As tall as the writing, or nearly as tall,
Halfway up on the courthouse wall.
The third he took -- we had all heard tell --
Was a usurer, and an infidel.
"What," said the Hangman "have you to do
With the gallows-bound, and he a Jew?"
And we cried out, "Is this one he
Who has served you well and faithfully?"
The Hangman smiled: "It's a clever scheme
to try the strength of the gallows-beam."
The fourth man's dark, accusing song
Had scratched our comfort hard and long;
"And what concern," he gave us back.
"Have you for the doomed -- the doomed and Black?"
The fifth. The sixth. And we cried again,
"Hangman, Hangman, is this the man?"
"It's a trick," he said. "that we hangmen know
For easing the trap when the trap springs slow."
And so we ceased, and asked no more,
As the Hangman tallied his bloody score.
And sun by sun, and night by night,
The gallows grew to monstrous height.
The wings of the scaffold opened wide
Till they covered the square from side to side;
And the monster cross-beam, looking down,
Cast its shadow across the town.
Then through the town the Hangman came,
Through the empty streets, and called my name --
And I looked at the gallows soaring tall,
And thought, "There is no one left at all
For hanging, and so he calls to me
To help pull down the gallows-tree."
So I went out with right good hope
To the Hangman's tree and the Hangman's rope.
He smiled at me as I came down
To the courthouse square through the silent town.
And supple and stretched in his busy hand
Was the yellow twist of the hempen strand.
And he whistled his tune as he tried the trap,
And it sprang down with a ready snap --
And then with a smile of awful command
He laid his hand upon my hand.
"You tricked me. Hangman!," I shouted then,
"That your scaffold was built for other men...
And I no henchman of yours," I cried,
"You lied to me, Hangman. Foully lied!"
Then a twinkle grew in the buckshot eye,
"Lied to you? Tricked you?" he said. "Not I.
For I answered straight and I told you true --
The scaffold was raised for none but you.
For who has served me more faithfully
Then you with your coward's hope?" said he,
"And where are the others who might have stood
Side by your side in the common good?"
"Dead," I whispered. And amiably
"Murdered," the Hangman corrected me:
"First the foreigner, then the Jew...
I did no more than you let me do."
Beneath the beam that blocked the sky
None had stood so alone as I.
The Hangman noosed me, and no voice there
Cried "Stop!" for me in the empty square.

Maurice Ogden

Tuesday, 16 June 2009

How to stall in Top Gear.

Love it or hate it Top Gear is one of Auntie Beeb's most popular shows. Not only have the shows been sold to other countries but the format itself has been bought, starting last year sometime with SBS here in Australia. In short the BBC have a product that sells not only to its captive, licence paying, domestic audience but abroad as well. I've no idea if the money it brings in is greater than what they spend on it, but one thing that can be said in its favour is that it must be at least partially paying for itself. It's certainly not unique in this but it's more than can be said for some BBC productions. So having developed a good product the last thing anyone should want to do is bugger around with it too much. Ah...

The presenter Angela Rippon has declared she should be brought back as host of Top Gear, the BBC's popular motoring show, to make it more appealing to women.
The BBC One show fronted by Jeremy Clarkson, James May and Richard Hammond has been accused of being "drenched in testosterone" and under new reforms of equality laws could be forced to use more female presenters.
Rippon, who was the first presenter of Top Gear from 1977-79, said the programme needed to "evolve".
She said: "Like any show, Top Gear needs to evolve, so may be it is time to embrace the idea of a regular female presenter, though it would be nonsense to bring in a woman for the sake of sexual equality, or a dolly bird who was there only for the totty factor.
"It would have to be a woman who knows what she's talking about with a background in motoring. I think the ideal candidate would be… me, actually," she told the Radio Times.
"I was the first presenter of Top Gear in 1977, so it would bring the thing full circle. I drive cars and know about cars, though I'm not sure the guys would welcome an old bird like me bringing them down a peg or two. But if the call comes, I've got my driving gloves and goggles at the ready."

Oh Christ. She's right about a token female but other than that it's all bollocks. Look, the programme has evolved. And what it has evolved into is a show mostly about three aging school boys, in their own words, "cocking about". It's not about the motoring magazine that Angela Rippon used to present. That show was dumped after falling audiences. The current version is light entertainment based around cars and driving, which in practice means three aging school boys cocking about. And despite this the show apparently has plenty of female fans, and as I said, sells around the world. So what does Ms Rippon think of the show's potential popularity in the UK and its potential for continued sales around the world by de-evolving it back into the show that the BBC cancelled? Carol Vorderman certainly understands:

"Anyone criticising the show for being too male, too drenched in testosterone, is missing the point. The maleness of the show is one of its great attractions. Bringing in a female presenter would only dilute the appeal."

And this all supposedly going to happen because of Harriet Harperson's Equality Bill. While I'm sure the bitch would be happy to harm, perhaps fatally, a TV show as un-PC as Top Gear surely the law will affect the BBC as a whole and won't seriously be able to rule on the racial and gender composition of a TV show with only three presenters. Will it?