You can't say feckin on Coronation Street

Every couple of months it gets too much and I have to stop watching Corrie. This last Corriecation has been triggered by the appalling rape story line that has dragged like cat sick on the floor  that  even Phil Collinson speaking at the St Mary's Sexual Assault Referral Centre's annual conference, could not clean up. Standing behind the story  despite admitting procedural errors in the trail and the post trial depiction that allowed the victim and the acquitted rapist to be alone with each other. Initially rape reports increased when it appeared that something was going to be done. What happened was exactly less than nothing. Frank the rapist was found not guilty and the Chinese whispers leading up to the trial were enough to cause a crash in rape reports. The further use of the current relationship between Carla Connors and Peter Barlow as an excuse to dismiss evidence was further proof that Collinson was more interested in ott drama than realism or thinking of the repercussions of the story. If a woman is raped, it doesn't matter who she is sleeping with today, even if and I stress this strongly, if she is having an affair. The only question that should have been discussed was if a rape occurred, if it did, GUILTY.  It's hard enough for sex abuse victims to come forward, but to have arguably the most popular show on telly scare off genuine victims of actual real rapes, is a crime. So what if the actress involved publicly let producers off the hook, so what if the Sexual assault centre let the show off the hook, the end result was butt clenchingly uncomfortable maddening telly that told people only one thing. If you're going to rape, make sure you rape a woman who is troubled, having an affair, and what ever you do, don't have any witnesses, that way it's your word against hers. I'm all for justice, I'm all for fairness, but this story line wasn't about a man unfairly accused, it wasn't about some slag throwing herself at some man and regretting it later, it was about a violent attack that a rapist got away with.

If you're watching this week, the aforementioned dastardly Frank is at it again, he gasp, threatens Carla again, very likely also the gormless Sally Webster and is, we're promised, going to be found in a pool of his own blood. If it gets rid of him, fine and good, but I'm thoroughly sick and tired of the over the top drama. A few months ago when Phil ( I used to do Doctor Who) Collinson did the great Tram Crash, I asked myself if it would get back to a more normal Corrie, would they have the more realistic stories that are just as compelling as well as returning the humour to the street. The short answer is no. Corrie has only gotten sillier, opting for the far vistas of American soap where small children are witches, couples on the rocks prefer to torture each other in increasingly bizarre displays of  ratings grab theatrics and the last time anybody did anything remotely nice to another person, they were punished for it. Corrie hasn't just missed it big style on rape, but teen pregnancy as well. In a story ripped straight out of the hysterical Daily Scum Mail, Corrie are banging on about the epidemic of teen births and hopelessly unfit young mothers with no help. The only problem with the plot is that the teen birth rate is at it's lowest in years, and the young girls who have been unwise enough to sprog at such a young age do have and know about a wide range of services they can access. The Daily Mail OMG look at that freshly imagined horror agenda is only part of the problem. There is a Tory tone in the air since at least the last two years. On a street in a town devastated by Her Meanness Margaret ( phtoo) Thatcher, characters old enough to remember what it was like are heard to say things that hint at how the country was better when her nastiness ran the place. My wife having read the omnibus book of Corrie from the start to about 2000 assures me that Audrey Roberts, during the worst of the Thatcher years, had not a kind word about her. If this was properly written , she'd be heard wondering where the death party was going to happen. Sadly, Corrie has taken the opposite view of great writers and is allowing crazy ratings grabbing stories to guide character development. For every realistic story such as Roy's mother being a nasty stick in the mud and all that means for Croppers, we are accosted by fires, murders, rapes, utterly unrealistic Steve and the even more reprehensible Tracy Barlow (herself out of jail on some invented special deal) finding new ways to make us want the segment to end faster than an Adele song.

So why do I watch?  Why does anybody watch?  Well the truth is, if you take the the viewing numbers of BBC 4's Road to Coronation Street, and subtract the proportion of casual curiosity, you are still left with a whopping 15 to 20 million viewers who have abandoned the show.  Phil Collinson admits "We are not broadcasting to people who are very educated and knowledgeable about this subject. We are broadcasting to young people, and it's very important that we draw attention to these things." So it's young people who aren't that bright and otherwise watching X factor? I am part of the vast army of those who have dropped Coronation Street from TV time. When there is so much better out there, why should I and others bother watching. I'd love to get back into it, but the trend is going the wrong way, too many stupid stories, repellent characters and Tory arse licking.

I am however still madly in love with my alternative Manchester based soap, Shameless. Yes they swear. Yes you see ugly naked people doing things we might not want to see all the time, but they are, unlike the folk over in Weatherfield, real. The violence is real, the relationships are real, the jeopardy people are placed in is real. And yet the humour that courses through the entire narrative is so strong that there is not a single plot in the last few years I would have used to sort my pants or clean the cat litter. Frank Gallagher while no longer the centre of attention, still is the one fixed point on the Chatswoth estate that brings plot twists even as late as two week ago. Shameless does in spades, what Coronation Street used to do till about 8 years ago. Paul Abbot's vision continues to fuel top quality telly at C4 while Phil Collinson is driving the original Northern drama into insignificance. While Corrie takes liberties in the name of drama, Shameless looks at unvarnished life in the Estate and translates it into entertaining television without cheapening the experience or soft selling the issues people involved are embroiled in. I won't lie, it hurts to see Corrie go down the shitter like, but I won't miss it if dies from this. Intelligent continuing drama need not jump the shark to stay relevant, they need only to stick to basics, likeable characters, stories that don't make an episode of Doctor Who seem realistic, and most importantly, remember your cast and characters know where they've been. If you take a life long sport hater into a sudden football fanatic for the purpose of a haphazard story, or you make somebody irrationally turn gay or perhaps make a man stab his best mate in the back so the show can have a controversial affair that wrecks a long standing street family, they will let you know. Actors are not programmable drones that will say and do anything that pops into your head. Fans are not going to stick around if you pretend they don't exist, worse yet, established fans won't be happy when you tell them they aren't important. If you ask ans actress who's been playing a role for years to do something her character would never do, you're not just insulting the viewers, but the actress as well. On Shameless when a character runs it's course, he or she leaves, they sometimes come back if the chance exists to get a few eps out of them, but as a rule, the useful life of an actor or actress are measured by the persona dramatis' to sustain themselves in the role. When the stories ran out for the Gallagher children, even if we liked them, they were sent away. Neighbours have come and gone, power brokers and circumstances have changed the estate but never once has anybody been forced to be anything other than what they are. The other way to look at Shameless is to look at it as art. In one scene the Lilian the madame and Kelly the prostitute have a perfectly rational near mother daughter talk about business, all the while this Feliniesque circus of freaks and oddly dressed people parade past busily doing what could only be described as performance art. In another scene, Frank descends into his own mind and channels Pinter or Shakespeare while he jousts with himself.

So while you can't say feckin on Corrie and Jamie Maguire will never suddenly become police inspector, I know which show is the one that's an insult to my intelligence and values. I also know which show will accurately reflect, warts and all the Condemn Nation and the effects of it on poorest of the poor.

Staying on the subject of drama and jumping the shark, Upstairs Downstairs is back and save a bit of lezzing up that was so tame last night I could honestly admit to have done more to my cat,  has stayed the course with well written sub plots that play well into the main theme of the phony war and the decline of the big houses. I must admit to having bizarre fantasies regarding Alex Kingston. I fully expect her to draw a gun or pick up her blue Tardis shaped diary. Tho only one hour long once a week  for only a few weeks, the quality of the cast, the sets and the scripts means I will glued to seat for the foreseeable couple of Sunday nights.Upstairs Downstairs does one thing well that Downton Abbey fails to do, it respects costumes, morals, ideology, facts, chronology, and still manages to be entertaining. Hair and clothing, especially for the women, is based on the fashions of the time and actresses that will not wear the full kit soon learn they can't do costume drama at the BBC unless they are prepared to wear the clothes too. Chronology is also pretty basic and obvious, but clearly not a important enough for Downtown to pay it any heed. Lastly, to give you an idea of how the two shows rate, when my father who lived in those houses down to the silverware in the 1930's, watched both, he muttered constantly about how the Downtown help and family would never have behaved like that, even reaching crescendos of indignation for wasting his time,  but during Upstairs, he quietly does a running commentary confirming the best and the worst of all the behaviour and taste on display be it the family or the servants. It's just a play you say, but when doing these things, especially in the literary classics, you have to be reminded that these films will be going into schools. People will be learning from them. Why, if you can, do you not then make the effort to be as precise as is possible? It's not like it's a stripped down Hamlet with one light, one chair, one skull and a hand puppet. These dramas cost vast sums of money and getting it right is as important as having a fun script.

Another treat you cannot afford miss is the brilliant Inspector Montalbano on BBC4. This adult drama in Italian, is rich in humour and reflects an albeit stylised representation of life in Silvio Berlusconi's Italy.  Salvo Montalbano is a 40 something man married to his work but trying hard to satisfy his  matrimonially itchy girlfriend of 8 years. The relationship plays out in the background as the team led by Salvo tries to get to core of matters all the while not upsetting too many apple carts. Comic relief is provided by the inept desk officer who has a hard time remembering important messages and cannot pronounce names to save his life. As detective fiction, it works best if the viewer understands that by 60 minutes, you likely know all you need to solve the crime of the evening.  If you missed any, BBC iPlayer will be holding onto the films for two months after broadcast AND there will be 10 in total with more to come we hope. Fingers crossed, the axe poised to drop on the jewel that is BBC 4 will not stop the buying of wonderful foreign language productions like Montalbano, The Killing, Spirale or Borgen. Watch it while you can, you know before the powers that be dumb it all down to about the level of BBC 3 or ITV 2.  


If you have a moment, please send a strongly worded message to the BBC that they should leave BBC 4 alone. I mean, if a bunch of people who didn't listen to a load of pretentious twadle on radio 6 saved it, why not the actual lorry loads of actual people who watch the actually well rated science, history and drama on BBC 4.

New Stig grows up, Sky lost some weight, and I learned some Danish

And on the 38th day new Stig  instructed his first star in a reasonably priced car. New Stig was finally allowed out of his cage after having eaten the raw meat Jezza had left for him. Amazing how quickly they grow up. As Clarkson remarked, he'll soon be old enough to present Countryfile.  Top Gear got stuck in with it's latest run of school boy humour and thinly disguised genuine consumer information. I for example know that my future all terrain vehicle should be a Skoda Yeti. I will however probably still go for a classic Land Rover or even a gentrified Toyota Hilux if I can. Not missing a beat, Top Gear presenters searched for new ways of poking humourless twats with a pointed stick. Funny Scouse man accused of stealing tyres, Stig elevated to the status of Jesus replacement,  Cap'n Slow made to look a div, wait that's not a crime, just a stated goal. Ironically, this is the same man who can tell you the most about the cars  should you care to ask. Richard "Hamster" Hammond  tries to prove the Porsche 911  is in fact the best car in the world and more than the sum of the parts of a Beetle from whence it came. I for one was convinced by his arguments, having been in several proper poor people bugs in my life for extended lengths of time. I think dropping a cheap car from a crane was hardly a fair test of speed was it? Besides maybe the Autobahn and dying, the only good thing Hitler ever did, the Volkswagen Beetle is hardly the model of reliability or comfort or technical advancement. The Porsche 911 on the other hand is still the only car I'd consider having that satisfies my inner douche bag and thrill seeker. While the Jag is in fact a car for somebody who can drive over small pets and garden beds, the Porsche will do it and not even try to apologize.   Why should it? It is a mechanical marvel that moves like a wild cat on the hunt. The noises it makes sound like what I thought a car should sound like when I was 8 years old. As a boy I aspired to a Porsche, as a man I now aspire to a Jag or maybe an Astin Martin, unlike some people, |I don't want to others to think I'm the kind of person who would drive a Porsche. Now if I could borrow the Stig's skin...

About that new Stig. He's still  white, drives even better than sacked Stig, seems to be more content and doesn't bite like the old one. I think perhaps this one's a keeper, he may even last longer that the last two put together. Just to be clear, whoever the new Stig is, he's now part of one of the oldest , most entertaining car magazines on telly ever. He will meet stars and drive fast cars and get paid for it presumably really well for as long as he wants to. If this one also does a diva, it may be time to bury the Stig once and for all. Seems some people are more interested in sudden piles of money over sustained respectable pay and loads of perks you won't get for being an ex-Stig.

New to our screens from BBC 2, Charlie Brooker's How TV ruined your life, a weekly look at how TV took a perfectly nice life and this week, has scared the hell out of us for 60 years. The point of the show was to demonstrate just how mad the paranoia and fear had gotten from public service spots that pointed out every danger lurking out there past your door and in your living room, to crime programmes that purported to show just how bad the the criminals were. If the news is to be believed , we are always on the brink of the final dissolution of humanity as we know it.  His pens catching fire parody was brilliant stopping just short of being repetitive and pointless. Breaking news used to mean something had happened, but with 24 hour news, we were treated to Gaza shouting "Moaty Moaty Moaty"  and explaining why he had brought fried chicken, lager and a fishing pole for his "old mate".  If I want to stay relaxed and fear free I try to watch BBC news only a few times a day and avoid the soul sucking misery of unending failure in the world. I know news is news, but it's not all bad news is it? South Sudan voted last week. We saw one day of nice peaceful story, then nothing for a week, then twice in as many days , some Northern nomads killed 30 people and the BBC war machine was in full gear. Thankfully for South Sudan it's remained for the most part a dull uneventful story.   Uneventful that is except for all those people getting on with their lives and building a new country without recourse to death and dismemberment. Perhaps if more watched less sensationalist filler, some of them would be less inclined to report Jeremy Clarkson to ofcom for crimes against alleged human decency. Some of you may recall that on the back of one complaint, decades after the song came out, you can't play Money for nothing in Canada, because of the "dirty little faggot" reference.  If you've ever heard the song, you are my age, if you are worshipping Ellie Goulding's murder of Elton's "Your song", you're probably wondering why anybody would ever say an offensive thing ever to anybody , even jest.  Watch the video, you'll see it's not even homophobic, just a good song. So when did one person's opinion mean we should all suffer? Where was I?  Charlie Brooker, yeah,  good show, watch it.

Speaking of offensive words on telly..... no I don't mean Kay Burley saying anything on any subject, Andy Gray (sacked) and Richard Keys (apologized and resigned), both now late of Sky Sports, landed in a cauldron of trouble over sexist remarks about lineswoman, Sian Massey 25,  (see also remarks about Theo Walcott) before the match even kicked off. It all got a bit sordid as a series of further of air remarks were found and broadcast to the delight of the people who disliked the the duo. Sky sports reacted well enough at first, but hardly seem to take this seriously at first , then went entirely the other way and sacked Andy Gray. Seems you're fine till you get caught out. A few simple truths in broadcasting. All mikes and cameras are to be treated as live at all times. Saves you a great deal of embarrassment. Never put down in writing just how big a twat you are. And lastly, you're only as good as your last good deed or rating and scandal of any kind will wipe the slate clean in entirely the wrong way. All lessons at least one of these men has not learned. While I do not applaud the creation of super cautious PC man, the death of Neanderthal footie man is long overdue. My wife loves football, it's a huge part of why we get along. She gets it, she understands the offside rule, well the one before the new one which confuses even the players and the officials now. You would be shocked to hear what she used to say about Arsenal and Chelsea supporters, would have made a Millwall fan seem,... no  too strong, ... a Leeds fan, seem realistic.  That said, the powers that be at Sky sport need to understand that women have been following football in droves for at least a decade now, gone are the times that every vagina in the room left at the sound of the pre game show.  I suspect the fancy fan who supported a side ONLY because [name of footballer] is fit,  is long dead or blended in with the male version more concerned with the run of play and the general direction and placement of ones team in the table. The hypocrisy of Sky speaks volumes however, when you compare the numerous times people like myself have called for the incredibly justifiable sacking of Kay Burley, and been ignored. This woman who claims to be a journalist has done enough to be sacked 10 times were she a man or even a gay Asian uni-legged agnostic hermaphroditic creature working at a real news channel. Where is the justice when caveman sports twit gets the sack  but Versace sledge hammer stays?

On the subject of genteel, better times when even the nut-cases were held to a certain standard of decorum and behaviour, Lark Rise to Candleford on Sunday was a treat. Dorcas has finally got some action going and Postman Thomas has his absolute shield of faith and somewhat too sure certainty punctured, revealing a very scared little man who seems to have finally had to deal with his own personal demons. The scene where he looses his religion was so sincere I had no idea where it was going from there. The use of the snake in paradise wasn't wasted or over the top in the least bit. Yet again, Larkrise shows that good writing is the key to wringing out truthful performances from these well trained actors and actresses. Stand out performance of the night had to be Curtis Brown (Thomas) in the faith story line with an equally strong performance from character actor Burn Gorman and former Torchwood regular, playing the trouble reverend. Oh and still no sign of Dawn French.

Yet again BBC4 wins a big fat nothing, yes you're watching the National Television Awards , the award show for text voting pond scum who haven't quite learned to spell yet. How else do you explain Qi v I'm a Celebrity? Oh well, every year I sit down an d think , maybe this year Stephen Fry will win something for his current work, but no. Benidorm and In Betweeners won which is ok as it's not about pretty people or unscripted, thank you both for making us laugh. And....big drum roll....... Top Gear has the love of geeks, intellects and the great unwashed, all rolled into to one. Despite being fact free for for 7 years now, Top Gear has entertained all levels of viewer and in so doing showing living proof you can be smart funny, un hip and still be a winner. Three middle age men falling over indeed , Congratulations, at least one or two of my shows made the grade! Sherlock, Ashes to Ashes, Doctor Who, Touch of Frost ?!! all in one category ! David Jason wins for Touch of Frost, and well deserving he is. At least this one they couldn't get wrong.  Lastly, Mr Show-business himself, Bruce Forsyth got the lifetime achievement award from last year's winner Stephen Fry. Brucie is an institution and anybody who thinks he's past his sell by date needs to have a quick look at what this man can do even  now. Sad but true, Louis Spence is no replacement for an all rounder comic, singer dancer actor go to guy who can handle any live situation.  Since I was little, Brucie has entertained out family in a bewildering array of programmes over the years. I hope he never stops, I suspect he'd be unsure what to do with a pipe and slippers, so Bruce, It's always nice to see you , to see you Nice! And Doctor Who fans.... we got zip this year, nothing nada, nil, nowt, but the opening sequence with Matt Smith and the Tardis was great.

Last word goes to Danish crime drama The killings on BBC4 is brilliant and completely engrossing , even if you don't speak Danish. Much like UK crime drama, yet a little less intense , it still arrives at the same destination that any crime drama wants, you care and you want to solve it before the DCI does. Good chance to learn yerself another language and have a decent rummage through your brain for solutions. My wife wept several times and it takes convincing acting and story to get her going like that. Something for the big softy and the amateur sleuth.

Entertain, Inform, Educate, Exterminate: 60 years of science on TV

Robert Webb narrates Mad and Bad: 60 Years of Science on TV with a combination of reverence and pith that only a true fan looking on at a valued but odd member of his family can. It was 90 minutes of the kind of television you rarely see these days. A trip down memory lane that pressed so many buttons for me that It was all I could do to keep my trap shut lest I miss the absolutely delicious sarcasm drizzled liberally throughout the programme.

I would disagree violently with only one assertion, "Doctor Who ran out of steam ... so was cancelled". I Know there may be a few people at the corporation who still feel the need to defend the reprehensible stifling of  our Doctor for 16 years, and I smell the not so subtle hand of the editor upstairs. But it seems they couldn't change the comment of one person who said it as it is, Doctor Who was taken away from us, and we never lost interest. There that feels better. Just out of curiosity, how many of you watching last night wanted to chuck something at the telly when you heard that?

As retrospectives go, this omnibus, as near as complete history, ran us through the early nerdtastic formats of early science as the saviour of humanity, past the scary death from outer space to the wow bang weird science of the World of Tomorrow and it's successor programmes.  The list of of academics who impacted my life so deeply is too long to list here , but if you watch the film, you'll see most of them. Jacob Bronowski, James Burke, David Attenborough and of course the grand master Sir Patrick Moore. All these men shaped the curiosity, critical thinking and love of science that has never left me. No I did not become a physicist or an astronomer, I did not yearn to fly in space, but I never lost the deep and abiding interest in how things work. From childhood to adult I have been well served by the network that can boast, but does not, the fact that even today, well over 80 % of all English language, science, nature and other assorted deep thinky things  on telly around the world are made by the BBC. Furthermore, these same programmes, including some that are over 40 years old, have been translated into more languages than you can shake a stick at. This of course assumes that you can shake a stick at a language and that the language itself is somehow moved by this gesture. Isn't communication fun?

Some of the best Whiz bang shows never once came close to predicting the future, let alone MY  future. If anything the shiny tech based world they envisioned never came because the microchip changed the shape and the way things are done. We still use petrol based cars and no one wants to live in the city of the future, in fact the city of the future is the village we saw in The Good Life with bendy Felicity. Which is not to say that the science of  BBC's Horizon did not foresee it. Interestingly enough, the people who did get it right the most were the Sci fi writers. Douglas Adams and his Hitch Hikers Guide to the Universe and it's friendly cover advising us DON'T PANIC, is the laptop with a sense of humour I curse, love. loathe and cannot live without now. I'm still waiting for the transporter beam and the sonic screwdriver, but pretty much they got it right. We don't really live any differently now than we did in 1960, except that we have more channels ( most of which are shite), we still eat the food of our parents and grand parents, we recycle, we have started going back to pre 1950's simpler low tech gadgets and we still deliver death and mercy in the same old fashioned non nuclear ways on the battle field. And yet even in this, we have science to thank for steering us clear of folly time and again.

What I love about British Science fiction is the very large tongue in the exaggerated cheek that co exists with the doom and gloom of Blake 7 ( I don't care if it was made on 50p and looked ticky tacky), Survivors or the apparently 3 different versions of Day of the Triffids.  No other culture has given us Red Dwarf on the one hand and the multitudinous destructions of London by Daleks, viruses and the nuclear menace. That last one was a comedy starring the brilliant Spike Milligan ( The Bed Sitting Room ). As a Trekie and a Doctor Who fan, if forced to choose, if forced to pick only one of those epic cultural icons that have changed the very way I speak and think, I'd have no choice but to support the Mother of all modern Science Fiction drama adventure.....Doctor Who. Bot have had monsters so flimsy and un scary, as to laugh, both have been moralist at times, But only Doctor Who has a smart ass, oddly dressed, egghead nutter as the hero. Also not without merit is the simple fact that of the two programmes, Doctor Who has most of the time supplied me with a bevy of beautiful companions that has allowed me and my mates to make endless lists of which actress/companion is the fittest and which I would, given the chance ( which of course is slim to none) sleep with. The lovely thing about our Sci Fi is how it still works regardless of how silly the props are or primitive the effects. Unlike a certain continent to the west, Brit Sci Fi is less concerned with the minutia of engineering and real fake science and allows for the occasional touch of magic to prevail, witness Big Bang 2 in The Pandorica Opens, or the sheer insanity of Red Dwarf.

We can have a fractal on the wall

The world has the Labour Party and the BBC to thank for scientists looking like the mandolin player from Lindisfarne telling us about quantum physics on a black board aided by the occasional animation and cut out. They assumed some subjects would be hard to grasp the first time and that we would persevere. That same spirit continued in fascinating programmes like Connections that challenged our imaginations and minds to not only understand but reach past the information on offer. The modern crop of attractive, still ever so slightly barking mad scientists proudly displaying their inner 8 year old on the BBC are worthy successors to the long line of people who first  tried teaching us how the world worked and why we need to be curious and question if we are ever to evolve as a species.

What could have become 90 minutes of tired filler, was a fun trip down memory lane that still, managed to entertain, inform and educate. Yet another reason to support the BBC any time that really nice guy Jeremy Hunt tries to get to close Auntie Beeb with with his slimy little fingers.

If you had been thinking of anything other than this after Top Gear tonight, I URGE YOU in the strongest possible terms to watch Dirk Gently ( Holistic detective) On BBC4 tonight. I'm holding out high expectations for Douglas Adams's last series of books to be translated to the screen as well and as respectfully as HHGTTG was first go around. Fingers crossed we won't be disappointed.

I see there's room for a bit of kvetching about my beloved Newcastle United. I should be pleased we beat Pool 3-1, I should be pleased our best player Andy Carroll is on the best form he's been on in ever. But I'm mostly ambivalent about the whole thing. The manager who got us out of fizzy pop and kept us mid table despite no budget in the summer and no prospect of any in the January window, was sacked on the flimsiest of excuses and replaced by a man who is best known for taking teams into relegation and is at best a tepid replacement. If you were going to get a new manager, I would have thought you would hire somebody of the calibre of the Special One, or perhaps an unhappy continental manager who's been sniffing around for a ticket to England. But no, we got Alan Pardew, on a 5 year contract no less. I don't for a second think it's worth the paper it's printed on and furthermore, at the first sign of trouble, Mr Relegation will be gone, 5 year contract or no. Of course it's going to cost more to be shot of him , but does the Fat Comptroller care? Mike Ashley lives these days it seems to piss off the supporters and nothing else. I live in fear that the news will bring a report confirming our worst nightmare ... Andy Carroll has been sold to some rich Southern side for a packet of money Pardew will never see.

That's enough  for now, see you all tomorrow after Top Gear and Dirk Gently!