Thursday, 8 March 2012

Life on Mars ... best Police TV series since THE SWEENEY

Life on Mars  ... best Police TV series since THE SWEENEY

GENE HUNT  ... heavily influenced by Inspector Jack Regan 

 
Life on Mars
Life on Mars logo.png
Life on Mars title sequence
GenreSpeculative fiction
Police procedural
Created byMatthew Graham
Tony Jordan
Ashley Pharoah
StarringJohn Simm
Philip Glenister
Liz White
Dean Andrews
Marshall Lancaster
Country of originUnited Kingdom
No. of episodes16 (List of episodes)
Production
Producer(s)BBC Wales for Kudos Film and Television with Monastic Productions
Running time60 minutes
Broadcast
Original channelBBC One
BBC Four (2 Episodes Only)
Picture formatPAL (576i)
1080i (HDTV) (blu-ray upscaled only)
Original run9 January 2006 – 10 April 2007
Chronology
Followed byAshes to Ashes
Related showsLife on Mars (U.S. remake)
The Girl of Yesterday (Spanish remake)
Life on Mars is a British television series broadcast on BBC One between January 2006 and April 2007. The series combines elements of science fiction and police procedural.
An American version of the series was produced by ABC and ran for one season from October 2008 to April 2009. A Spanish version of the show was also broadcast from April to June 2009.
A sequel to the series, Ashes to Ashes, also referencing another David Bowie song, began airing on BBC One in February 2008, followed by a second series in 2009 and a third and final series in 2010.[1]

Contents

 [hide] 

[edit] Plot

Life on Mars tells the fictional story of Sam Tyler (John Simm), a policeman in service with the Greater Manchester Police. After being hit by a car in 2006, Tyler awakes in 1973 and finds himself working for the predecessor of the GMP, the Manchester and Salford Police at the same station and location as in 2006. Early on in the series, it becomes apparent to Tyler that he awakes as a Detective Inspector, one rank lower than his 2006 rank of Detective Chief Inspector. As part of the Criminal Investigation Department, Tyler finds himself working under the command of Gene Hunt (Philip Glenister).
Throughout the two series, the central plot centres on the ambiguity concerning Tyler's predicament of it being unclear to both the audience and the character whether he has died, gone mad, is in a coma or has actually travelled back in time.[2]

[edit] Origins

The programme was originally conceived in 1998, when screenwriters Matthew Graham, Tony Jordan and Ashley Pharoah were sent on a break to the English seaside resort of Blackpool by Kudos Film & Television to think up programme ideas.[3] Originally titled Ford Granada after the 1970s car, the series was rejected by the BBC.[4] In response, Graham stated: "Back then, broadcasters just weren't comfortable with something like that, something that wasn't set in the real world and that had a fantasy element to it."[3] According to Graham, the initial idea was for a humorous, pre-watershed programme that overtly mocked the styles and attitudes of the 1970s, with the comic actor Neil Morrissey envisaged as the central character.[5]
Later, Channel 4 drama executive, John Yorke substantially redeveloped the original script, focusing on a double act between Sam Tyler and Gene Hunt. Senior management eventually decided not to pursue the idea, with Graham stating that the reaction to the idea was: "It's going to be silly", as told to Radio Times. The series eventually attracted the attention of BBC Wales' Julie Gardner, who persuaded the Head of Drama for the BBC, Jane Tranter, to commission the programme from BBC Wales for BBC One.[3] John Yorke left Channel 4 to rejoin the BBC and together with Julie Gardner, he acted as joint commissioning editor on the show for its entire run.
The programme's central character was originally to have been named "Sam Williams", but Kudos felt this to not be striking enough and requested Graham devise an alternative surname. Graham asked his young daughter for her opinion and she suggested "Sam Tyler", which became the character's name. Graham subsequently discovered that his daughter had named him after the Doctor Who character Rose Tyler.[6] The initial geographical setting was to be London; this was then changed to Leeds and finally to Manchester, as part of a BBC initiative to make more programmes in the city.[5] The name Sam Williams was subsequently used as a plot point in the second series.

[edit] Production and transmission

Eight one-hour episodes of Life on Mars were broadcast weekly on Monday nights at 9:00 pm by the BBC. The series episodes were mostly written by its creators Jordan, Graham and Pharoah, later joined by Chris Chibnall as the fourth writer for the first series. For the second series, Graham, Pharoah and Chibnall returned to write episodes, joined by Julie Rutterford, Guy Jenkin and Mark Greig.[7]
The second series was broadcast weekly at the same time as the first, with the only difference being the change of transmission day from Monday to Tuesday.[8] According to Jane Featherstone, the show's executive producer, speaking in February 2006, a film version of the show was also a possibility: "Life on Mars was a very high concept idea and there was no doubt it would work on the big screen."[9]
On 9 October 2006, it was confirmed that the second series of Life on Mars would be the last. Matthew Graham stated: "We decided that Sam's journey should have a finite life span and a clear-cut ending and we feel that we have now reached that point after two series."[10] Graham's claim that two separate endings had been filmed was later revealed to be a ruse.[11]
The second series had a distinctive style of introduction on BBC One: after a brief collage of momentary images, such as several test cards and comedy writer and broadcaster Barry Took, a mock-up version of BBC1's 1970s blue-on-black rotating globe ident was used, although the design had to be modified to fit widescreen sets. This was accompanied by a bass-voiced continuity announcer in the style of that era. Viewers in Wales saw an original 'BBC Cymru Wales' mechanical globe with introductions provided by former BBC Wales announcers. Trailers for the show also used the 1970s style, including the rhombus-style BBC logo.

[edit] Overseas sales

David E Kelley produced the pilot for an American version of the series for the ABC network, though he handed duties over to others for the series production. It premiered in October 2008, and was broadcast to critical and minor public acclaim, but declining numbers led to cancellation in April 2009 after 17 episodes, though with sufficient lead to allow the storyline to be concluded.
The first series of the original Life on Mars was broadcast in the United States on BBC America from July 2006 to August 2007 and was broadcast in 2010 on some public television stations,[12] with the second series being broadcast from December 2007 to January 2008.[13][14] Acorn Media released both series on DVD in 2008.
The original version also was broadcast in Canada from September 2006 to April 2007 on BBC Canada, and from 8 January 2008 to 23 April 2008 on Télé-Québec in French and Showcase in English.
In New Zealand the original series was broadcast on TV ONE from February 2007, being described as "sensationally well-made" by an NZ website.[15] Series two was broadcast from June 2008, with the final screening on 4 August 2008.
In Australia the original British version was broadcast on ABC1 from 20 May 2007, with the second following during February 2008. The US version broadcast on 5 February 2009 on Network Ten.
In the Republic of Ireland RTÉ Two broadcast the series from June 2007 in a late evening slot, following RTÉ News on Two.
The show has also been transmitted in Croatia, (Croatian Radiotelevision), Sweden (a cut version on SVT 2), Netherlands (Nederland 3), in Germany (Kabel 1), Spain (Antena.neox), Israel (Hot), Italy (Rai Due), Japan, Serbia (B92), Norway (NRK) and Estonia (ERR). Sub began broadcasting Life on Mars in Finland in April 2008, and ATV World started broadcasting the show in Hong Kong on 13 July 2008.[16][17][18]), France (13ème Rue).[19] In Hungary (Duna TV) Life on Mars started on March 2011. Spanish Television network Antena 3 bought the rights from the BBC and has remade the show as La Chica de Ayer (English: The Girl from Yesterday), set in 1977 post-Franco Spain.[20][21] The Russian broadcaster Channel One is also planning a re-make of the show, re-locating the events to Soviet era Moscow.[22]

[edit] Music

Life on Mars
Soundtrack album by Various artists
Released19 February 2007
LabelSony BMG Music Entertainment
ProducerKudos Film and Television in association with Monastic Productions
Life on Mars chronology
Life on Mars (Original Soundtrack)
(2007)
Ashes to Ashes (Original Soundtrack)
(2008)
The programme's soundtrack features many early 1970s songs which were played as part of Life on Mars, as well as an original score of the theme music as part of the title sequence composed by Edmund Butt. The show's title is in reference to the David Bowie song, "Life on Mars?", which plays on an iPod in Sam's car while he is run over, and on an 8-track tape in a Rover P6 when he awakes in 1973; it is used again at the climax of the final episode, and fleeting moments of the song are periodically used throughout the third series of the programme's sequel, Ashes to Ashes to allude to Sam Tyler's fate.
Matthew Graham stated that initially there were some concerns over whether the production team would be able to license the song, which, had they been denied, would have necessitated retitling the series.[23] Another Bowie song, "Space Oddity", is used in BBC trailers advertising the series. In several episodes, Gene Hunt adopts the name "Gene Genie", in reference to yet another Bowie song, "The Jean Genie", used in the fourth episode. Another Bowie track, "Changes", is played over the end credits of the second series finale.
The show's creators were initially refused permission to use "Live and Let Die" by Paul McCartney and Wings but, according to Graham in the Radio Times, "We sent the episode directly to Paul McCartney. Almost immediately, his assistant phoned back and said, 'Paul loves it. You can go ahead and use it.'"[24]

[edit] Music used

Season 1
David Bowie – "Life on Mars?" (Episodes 1 & 8)
Blue Öyster Cult - "Stairway to the Stars" (Episode 1)
The Who – "Baba O'Riley" (Episode 1)
Uriah Heep – "Easy Livin'" (Episode 1)
Uriah Heep – "Look at Yourself" (Episode 1)
Cream - "White Room" (Episode 1)
Thin Lizzy - "Saga of the Ageing Orphan" (Episode 2)
Paul McCartney and Wings – "Live and Let Die" (Episode 2)
Pink Floyd - "One Of These Days" (Episode 2)
Lee "Scratch" Perry and The Upsetters – "Jungle Lion" (Episode 2)
Sweet – "Ballroom Blitz" (Episode 3)
Free – "Wishing Well" (Episode 3)
Sweet – "Blockbuster!" (Episode 4)
Frankie Miller – "I Can't Change It" (Episode 4)
Thin Lizzy - "Call The Police" (Episode 5)
Thin Lizzy - "Rocker" (Episode 5)
Nina Simone – "I Wish I Knew How It Would Feel to Be Free" (Episode 5)
Louis Armstrong - "What A Wonderful World" (Episode 6)
Britney Spears - "Toxic" (Episode 7)
Peters and Lee - "Welcome Home" (Episode 7)
Pulp - "Disco 2000" (Episode 7)
Nina Simone – "Sinnerman" (Episode 7)
John Kongos – "Tokoloshe Man" (Episode 8)
Atomic Rooster – "Devil's Answer" (Episode 8)
Wizzard – "See My Baby Jive" (Episode 8)
Free – "Little Bit of Love" (Episode 8)
Lindisfarne – "Meet Me on the Corner" (Episode 8)
Season 2
Roxy Music – "Street Life" (Episode 1)
Three Degrees - "Everybody Gets To Go To The Moon" (Episode 1)
The Moody Blues – "The Story in Your Eyes" (Episode 4)
Slade – "Coz I Luv You" (Episode 4)
T.Rex – "Rock On" (Episode 4)
Gilbert O'Sullivan - "Alone Again (Naturally)" (Episode 4)
Roxy Music - "Just Like You" (Episode 4)
Electric Light Orchestra – "10538 Overture" (Episode 5)
Ananda Shankar – "Snow Flower" (Episode 6)
Thin Lizzy – "Whiskey in the Jar" (Episode 6)
Audience – "I Had a Dream" (Episode 6)
Elton John - "Rocketman" (Episode 6)
Uriah Heep – "Traveller in Time" (Episode 6)
Faces – "Cindy Incidentally" (Episode 7)
Mott the Hoople – "One of the Boys" (Episodes 7 & 8)
David Bowie - "Changes" (Episode 8))
Israel Kamakawiwo'ole - "Over the Rainbow" (Episode 8)

[edit] Soundtrack CD Track listing

[edit] Characters

The main characters of Life on Mars, from left: DC Chris Skelton, DCI Gene Hunt, DI Sam Tyler, DS Ray Carling and WPC/DC Annie Cartwright
The methodology and techniques of modern policing that Sam Tyler employs during Life on Mars lead him into frequent clashes with other characters. Gene Hunt and the rest of the CID appear to favour brutality and corruption in order to secure convictions, as shown by their willingness to physically coerce confessions and fabricate evidence.[25] Throughout both series, Tyler clashes with Hunt the most frequently, usually because Tyler values forensic evidence whereas Hunt often resorts to traditional methods. In one episode during Series 1, in which doubt is cast on several suspects, Hunt insists that "the first to speak is guilty."
Sam describes Hunt as an "overweight, over-the-hill, nicotine-stained, borderline alcoholic homophobe with a superiority complex and an unhealthy obsession with male bonding." Hunt is supported by his fiercely loyal subordinates, Chris Skelton and Ray Carling, with the latter portrayed as a character similar to Hunt. Ray and Sam often disagree with each other, and Sam and Gene have a love-hate relationship.[26] Chris, in contrast, becomes friendly with Sam and respects his modern methods, finding his loyalty torn between Gene and Sam.[27]
Given Sam's predicament, he avoids revealing his suspicion that he may have travelled back in time, for fear that others will think he is insane. The only person in 1973 to whom Sam fully reveals his story is Annie Cartwright. According to Liz White, the actress who played Cartwright, "She gets very tired of his constant talk about how this situation is not real, that they are all figments of his imagination – she can only explain it as psychological trauma from his car crash.".[28]

[edit] Themes and storyline

The Test Card Girl, a surreal hallucination repeatedly encountered by Sam Tyler
After the premiere, each of the remaining fifteen episodes begins with a short teaser before a monologue in which Sam repeats, as part of the moving imagery of the title sequence:
My name is Sam Tyler. I had an accident and I woke up in 1973. Am I mad, in a coma, or back in time? Whatever's happened, it's like I've landed on a different planet. Now, maybe if I can work out the reason, I can get home.
This questioning is a central plot device throughout the series, displaying both the character's and the audience's uncertainty about what has happened.
Throughout the course of Life on Mars, Sam's uncertainty is reinforced by frequent paranormal phenomena, such as hearing voices and seeing images from 2006 on radios, telephones, and televisions. The voices discuss his medical condition, leading him to partially believe that he is in a coma. Other elements suggest to him that he is insane, such as his frequent and unexpected encounters with the Test Card Girl from Test Card F, who speaks directly to him. Annie Cartwright partially persuades Sam that he is truly in 1973, arguing that his mind would be unable to fabricate the amount of detail and tangibility in the world where he finds himself, evidence that he is in fact in 1973.
However, Sam's uncertain situation is not the focal point of most episodes, remaining a sub-plot. In most episodes, the main plot centres on a particular crime or case relating to the police, such as drug trafficking, a hostage situation, murders and robberies. For this reason, most episodes follow a conventional police drama format. As the series progresses, Sam focuses on how he will get home in almost every episode.
A recurring motif throughout the series is the overlapping of the past and present. For example, during Series 1: Episode 6 Sam hears the voice of his mother in 2006, telling him his life-support will be switched off at 2:00 pm. At the same time he is called into a hostage-taking situation, where the perpetrator states that he will kill his victims at precisely the same hour. Sam also encounters people whom he knows in the future as their younger selves, including suspects, friends, his own parents, and himself as a child.
Sam comes from a politically correct and scientifically advanced era, in which suspects' rights and the preservation of forensic evidence are stringently observed. His background leads Sam into conflict, as other characters exhibit openly sexist, homophobic, disablist and racist behaviour, and often indulge all these prejudices while carrying out their police duties.
The series frequently makes use of Gene Hunt's comical rudeness in the form of jokes and dramatic irony about a future which the audience already knows, but which the characters in 1973 do not. For example, in Series 1: Episode 5, Hunt declares, "There will never be a woman prime minister as long as I have a hole in my arse."
Another running joke in the show is Sam's confusion about police work in 1973, as he often mistakenly mentions techniques and technologies that were not used in 1973, such as two-way mirrors. One such running joke is that Sam continually gives criminals the updated version of the Right to Silence warning, which was changed in 1994. When he does so, someone around him usually points out that he is giving the warning incorrectly.

[edit] Finale

It is revealed in the final episode that Sam's coma had lasted so long because he had a tumour of the brain. Tyler comes to believe the tumour is embodied by Hunt, and begins to think that by bringing Hunt down, his own body can recover. To this end, Tyler begins to collaborate with Frank Morgan (Ralph Brown) to bring Hunt down. While Tyler and the team are engaged in a firefight with armed robbers, Sam returns to 2008. He eventually comes to realise that he has become used to, and enjoys, the 1970s, seeing it as his "real world". In an attempt to get back to 1973 to save Annie and the rest of the team from death, Sam leaps off of the roof of the police station, arriving back in 1973 and saving the team, promising never to leave them again. Writer Matthew Graham wrote the scene to indicate that Sam is now in the afterlife, but acknowledged that the ending is ambiguous and open to other interpretations, such as lead actor John Simm's belief that Sam may not have returned to the present.[11] In the final scene, the team drive off, with Sam and Gene bickering as usual. Children run past, including the girl from Test Card F. She looks directly into the camera before reaching out and "switching off" the television the viewer is watching, signifying that the story has come to an end.[11]
The first episode of sequel series Ashes to Ashes shows that DI Alex Drake of the Metropolitan Police has been studying Tyler's notes and 2008-era personnel file, in which his photograph is overstamped with the word "SUICIDE". Ashes to Ashes, which implies that Gene Hunt's world is in some sense real, states that Sam lived another seven years in that world, during which time he married Annie but had no children. Drake speculates that this happened while, in reality, he was in his dying moments, and fears that the same may be happening to her. As far as Hunt and his colleagues are concerned, Tyler apparently died in a car chase in 1980.
In the final episode of Ashes to Ashes it is revealed that the world of Life on Mars/Ashes to Ashes is in fact a purgatory for dead police officers. The Railway Arms pub seen throughout Life on Mars is shown to be the entry point to Heaven, and Gene Hunt mentions how he sent Sam in once he was ready.

[edit] Depiction of 1973

During an interview John Stalker, Deputy Chief Constable of Greater Manchester in the early 1980s and himself a Detective Inspector in 1973, has stated that the depiction of the police "has got nothing to do with real policing in the 1970s. It could not be more inaccurate in terms of procedure, the way they talk or the way they dress. In all the time I was in the CID in the 1970s I never saw a copper in a leather bomber jacket and I never heard an officer call anyone 'guv'. ... Actually, there were a few police officers in London who started to behave like Regan and Carter in The Sweeney, but that was a case of life following art, not the other way round."[29] The journalist who interviewed Stalker, Ray King, remarks that the depiction of the police can be defended if we assume that Sam is indeed in a coma and that we are seeing his imaginary idea of 1973, filtered through 1970s cop shows.[29]
Upon Sam Tyler awaking in 1973, he finds himself on a building site, beneath a large advertising board, proclaiming the construction of a new motorway, the Mancunian Way. In reality, construction of Mancunian Way was completed in 1967. According to Matthew Graham, writing in the Radio Times, the error was deliberate. "We knew that this road was built in the 1960s, but we took a bit of artistic licence."[30] Minor historical anachronisms such as this are present throughout Life on Mars. Some, as above, were made out of artistic licence whilst others were deliberately inserted to confuse the issue of whether Sam Tyler was in a coma, mad or really back in time. Many inaccuracies were visible such as modern street furniture, cable television cabinets, satellite television dishes, CCTV cameras, LCD digital watches and double-glazed uPVC window frames, which were all unintentional.[31] During DVD commentaries for the series, the programme makers acknowledge these as errors but also point out they are in fact perfectly feasible, given Sam's situation.[23] As the popularity of the series grew, the hunting of such anachronisms became a favourite pastime among Life on Mars fans.[32]

[edit] Cultural references

Throughout Life on Mars, many references to the 1939 MGM production of The Wizard of Oz exist. Such as, when Sam Tyler tentatively asks if Gene Hunt is able to send Sam back home, he is mockingly told "The Wizard'll sort it out. It's because of the wonderful things he does". The quote "Follow the yellow brick road" can be heard at least once, in episode 4 of season 1. Gene also occasionally refers to Sam as "Dorothy", ostensibly as a reference to what Gene perceives as Sam's effeminacy ("Friend of Dorothy"), but also as a nod to Sam's belief that he is living some kind of Oz-like fantasy. The pivotal character, Frank Morgan (Ralph Brown) is both Gene's nemesis in 1973 and Sam's surgeon in 2006. This echoes the similar dual roles played by actors in the Oz and Kansas sequences of the 1939 Judy Garland film, The Wizard of Oz; principally, actor Frank Morgan who portrayed Professor Marvel in the Kansas sequences and the Wizard in the Oz sequences.
In the final episode of the series, the song "Over the Rainbow" features prominently upon Sam's return to 2006 and later, when Sam and Annie kiss, a rainbow can be seen in the distant sky.
The East Manchester town of Hyde is used as Sam's former police division as a clue that his 1973 self is an alter ego, as in Robert Louis Stevenson's The Strange Case of Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde.[23] When Sam wakes up in 2006, his comatose body was revealed to have been kept in Hyde ward, from the sign on the door as he exits in street clothes. The Room number shown as 2612, this being the telephone number (Hyde 2612) that Frank Morgan had contacted him from in episode 1 of season 2.

[edit] Reception

[edit] Critical reaction

Critical reaction to the first series of Life on Mars was extremely positive. Steve O'Brien, writing for SFX, declared, "It looks like BBC One has ... a monster hit on its hands ... It's funny ... and dramatic and exciting, and we're really not getting paid for saying this."[33] Alison Graham, television editor for the Radio Times, described the series as "a genuinely innovative and imaginative take on an old genre."[34] James Walton of The Daily Telegraph commented, "Theoretically, this should add up to a right old mess. In practice, it makes for a thumpingly enjoyable piece of television – not least because everybody involved was obviously having such a great time."[35] Sam Wollaston of The Guardian wrote: "Life on Mars was more than just a jolly, tongue-in-cheek romp into the past ... Once there, in 1973, we find ourselves immersed in a reasonably gripping police drama – yes, The Sweeney, perhaps, with better production values ... Or put another – undeniably laboured – way, as poor Sam Tyler walks through his sunken dream, I'm hooked to the silver screen."[36] Although Peter Paterson of the Daily Mail reflected the views of many other commentators on the first episode when he wondered, "Can its intriguing conceit be sustained over eight one-hour episodes?",[35] Critical reaction remained generally positive throughout the programme's run. Of the second series, Alison Graham believed that "Sam Tyler and Gene Hunt are shaping up nicely as one of the great TV detective partnerships ... It's vastly enjoyable and manages to stay just about believable thanks to some strong writing and, of course, the two marvellous central performances."[37]
Nancy Banks-Smith, in The Guardian, felt that the time-paradox aspect of the programme had become somewhat confusing.[38] Banks-Smith summed up the programme's success as "an inspired take on the usual formula of Gruff Copper of the old school, who solves cases by examining the entrails of a chicken, and Sensitive Sidekick, who has a degree in detection."[39]
Two days after the final episode's transmission, Life on Mars was attacked in the British press by the National Association of Schoolmasters Union of Women Teachers, who claimed that Gene Hunt's use of homophobic insults in the programme could encourage copycat bullying in schools.[40] The BBC stated that Life on Mars was targeted at an adult audience, and argued that Hunt's characterisation was "extreme and tongue-in-cheek".[40]

[edit] Ratings

Life on Mars was also a success in terms of ratings. The first series achieved an average audience figure of 6.8 million viewers[41] and regularly won its timeslot, despite competition from ITV1's comedy-drama series Northern Lights. The first series' finale gained 7.1 million viewers and a 28% audience share.[42][43][43][44][45][46]
Viewing figures for the second series were initially low, with the first episode only attracting 5.7 million viewers, slumping to 4.8 million viewers by episode three, despite being heavily trailed and publicised.[41] These figures were blamed by The Stage on "poor scheduling and unfortunate sporting fixtures, possibly combined with high expectation".[47] Audience figures picked up during the second series' run, however, with the final episode gaining an average of seven million viewers (a 28% audience share),[48] despite competition from UEFA Champions League football on ITV1.[49]
Episode OrderViewers
(millions)
87.10
95.70
114.80
167.15

[edit] Awards

During November 2006, the first series of Life on Mars won the International Emmy Award for Best Drama Series. The same award also went to the second series of the programme in the 2008 Emmy Awards, which was held in November.[50] In January 2007, it won the Best New Programme category as part of the Broadcast Magazine awards.[51] In March 2007 it won two categories, Best Drama Series and the Writers' Award, at the Broadcasting Press Guild Awards.[52]
The first series was nominated for a British Academy Television Award (BAFTA) in the Best Drama Series category. John Simm was also nominated as Best Actor for his work on the show.[53] The programme won the audience-voted Pioneer Award.[disambiguation needed ][54]
In October 2007, series two was nominated as the Most Popular Drama at the 2007 National Television Awards.[55]

[edit] DVD and Blu-ray

[edit] DVD

DVD release nameEpisodesYears of SeriesUK Release Date (Region 2)North American Release Date (Region 1)Australian Release Date (Region 4)
Life On Mars: Series 11–8200615 May 2006[56]
Re-released 28 February 2011[57]
28 July 2009[58]3 December 2009[59]
Life on Mars: Series 29–16200716 April 2007[60]
Re-released 28 February 2011[61]
24 November 2009[62]5 November 2009[63]
Life on Mars: Series 1 & 21–162006–200710 September 2007[64]
Re-released 28 February 2011[65]
N/AN/A

[edit] Blu-ray

Blu-ray release nameEpisodesYears of SeriesUK Release Date (Region B)North American Release Date (Region A)Australian Release Date (Region B)
Life On Mars: Series 11-8200627 October 2008[66]N/AN/A
Life On Mars: Series 29-16200727 October 2008[67]N/AN/A
  • Note Due to the popularity of the show, Blu-ray editions of both series were released on 27 October 2008. However since the show's various effects were originally edited and mastered in standard definition, a true HD version would require a near-total overhaul. The Blu-ray editions therefore contained studio-upscaled footage of the original SD content, providing some improvement. This pseudo-HD version is not known to have been broadcast on television.

[edit] References

  1. ^ "Final series of Ashes to Ashes will 'reveal all' about Gene Hunt". London: Telegraph. 8 June 2009. http://www.telegraph.co.uk/culture/tvandradio/5476451/Final-series-of-Ashes-to-Ashes-will-reveal-all-about-Gene-Hunt.html. Retrieved 8 June 2009. 
  2. ^ Each episode begins with a monologue from Tyler reflecting this uncertainty. This is reproduced on the "Life on Mars Official Website". BBC. http://www.bbc.co.uk/lifeonmars. Retrieved 2 August 2008. 
  3. ^ a b c O'Brien, Steve (January 2006). "The Nick of Time". SFX (139): 54. 
  4. ^ "BBC – Press Office – Life on Mars press pack Seventies brought back to life". BBC. http://www.bbc.co.uk/pressoffice/pressreleases/stories/2005/12_december/08/mars_life.shtml. Retrieved 9 April 2007. 
  5. ^ a b Smith, David (8 April 2007). "£1,500 in a carrier bag? What planet are you on?". Observer (UK). http://observer.guardian.co.uk/uk_news/story/0,,2052460,00.html. Retrieved 8 April 2007. 
  6. ^ Darlington, David (21 June 2006). "Script Doctors: Matthew Graham". Doctor Who Magazine. 
  7. ^ "Life on Mars – Creative team". BBC. 1 February 2007. http://www.bbc.co.uk/pressoffice/pressreleases/stories/2007/02_february/01/mars_creative.shtml. Retrieved 4 April 2007. 
  8. ^ Burrell, Ian (27 March 2006). "Television Drama: Great show – now direct it". The Independent (UK). http://news.independent.co.uk/media/article353814.ece. Retrieved 6 January 2007. 
  9. ^ Wylie, Ian (7 February 2006). "Life on Mars was creating stars on Earth". Manchester Evening News. Archived from the original on 10 December 2006. http://web.archive.org/web/20061210152207/http://www.manchesteronline.co.uk/entertainment/filmandtv/s/203/203546_life_on_mars_is_creating_stars_on_earth.html. Retrieved 6 January 2007. 
  10. ^ "Hit BBC drama Life on Mars to end". BBC News Online. 9 October 2006. http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/entertainment/6033735.stm. Retrieved 9 October 2006. 
  11. ^ a b c Wylie, Ian (11 April 2007). "Life On Mars: The Answers". Manchester Evening News. http://blogs.manchestereveningnews.co.uk/ianwylie/2007/04/life_on_mars_the_answers.html. Retrieved 11 April 2007. 
  12. ^ "WTTW Schedules (Sundays, 10pm CST)". WTTW Television Chicago. http://www.wttw.com/main.taf?p=2,2. Retrieved 4 January 2010. 
  13. ^ "Life on Mars – About the Show". BBC America. http://www.bbcamerica.com/content/122/about.jsp. Retrieved 6 January 2007. 
  14. ^ "Life on Mars (BBC America)". Metacritic.com. http://www.metacritic.com/tv/shows/lifeonmars#critics. Retrieved 6 January 2007. 
  15. ^ Clifton, Jane (21 February 2007). "Reasons to be cheerful: Part one". Stuff.co.nz. http://www.stuff.co.nz/stuff/3969607a20879.html. Retrieved 24 February 2007. [dead link]
  16. ^ "SVT visar fel version av Life on Mars" (in Swedish). weirdscience.se. 9 February 2007. http://weirdscience.se/index.php?sida=blogg&id=582. Retrieved 16 March 2007. 
  17. ^ Kjell Häglund. "Brittiska saxar lurar svensk tv-publik", Dagens Nyheter 26 August 2008, received 28 August 2008.
  18. ^ "Life on Mars (Kabel eins)" (in German). kabeleins.de. http://www.kabeleins.de/serien_shows/life_on_mars/. Retrieved 31 January 2007. 
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Wednesday, 7 March 2012

Bob Dylan and George harrison playing tennis ...

Bob Dylan and George harrison playing tennis   ...  
Isle of Wight 1969


george harrison exclusive

george harrison exclusive

Catholic Church opposition will end same sex marriage proposal...

 

Full text: English and Welsh bishops’ letter on same-sex marriage

By CATHOLIC HERALD Staff Reporter on Tuesday, 6 March 2012

A Letter on Marriage from the President and Vice-President of the Bishops’ Conference of England and Wales


Dear Brothers and Sisters in Jesus Christ,

This week the Coalition Government is expected to present its consultation paper on the proposed change in the legal definition of marriage so as to open the institution of marriage to same-sex partnerships.
Today we want to put before you the Catholic vision of marriage and the light it casts on the importance of marriage for our society.
The roots of the institution of marriage lie in our nature. Male and female we have been created, and written into our nature is this pattern of complementarity and fertility. This pattern is, of course, affirmed by many other religious traditions. Christian teaching fills out this pattern and reveals its deepest meaning, but neither the Church nor the State has the power to change this fundamental understanding of marriage itself.
Nor is this simply a matter of public opinion. Understood as a lifelong commitment between a man and a woman, and for the creation and upbringing of children, marriage is an expression of our fundamental humanity. Its status in law is the prudent fruit of experience, for the good of the spouses and the good of the family. In this way society esteems the married couple as the source and guardians of the next generation. As an institution marriage is at the foundation of our society.
There are many reasons why people get married. For most couples, there is an instinctive understanding that the stability of a marriage provides the best context for the flourishing of their relationship and for bringing up their children. Society recognises marriage as an important institution for these same reasons: to enhance stability in society and to respect and support parents in the crucial task of having children and bringing them up as well as possible.
The Church starts from this appreciation that marriage is a natural institution, and indeed the Church recognises civil marriage. The Catholic understanding of marriage, however, raises this to a new level. As the Catechism says: “The matrimonial covenant, by which a man and a woman establish between themselves a partnership of the whole of life, by its nature is ordered toward the good of the spouses and the procreation and education of offspring; this covenant between baptised persons has been raised by Christ the Lord to the dignity of a sacrament.” (para.1601)
These rather abstract words are reflected however imperfectly in the experience of married couples. We know that at the heart of a good marriage is a relationship of astonishing power and richness, for the couple, their children, their wider circle of friends and relations and society. As a Sacrament, this is a place where divine grace flows. Indeed, marriage is a sharing in the mystery of God’s own life: the unending and perfect flow of love between Father, Son and Holy Spirit.
We know, too, that just as God’s love is creative, so too the love of husband and wife is creative of new life. It is open, in its essence, to welcoming new life, ready to love and nurture that life to its fullness, not only here on earth but also into eternity.
This is a high and noble vision, for marriage is a high and noble vocation. It is not easily followed. But we are sure that Christ is at the heart of marriage, for his presence is a sure gift of the God who is Love, who wants nothing more than for the love of husband and wife to find its fulfilment. So the daily effort that marriage requires, the many ways in which family living breaks and reshapes us, is a sharing in the mission of Christ, that of making visible in the world the creative and forgiving love of God.
In these ways we understand marriage to be a call to holiness for a husband and wife, with children recognised and loved as the gift of God, with fidelity and permanence as the boundaries which create its sacred space. Marriage is also a crucial witness in our society, contributing to its stability, its capacity for compassion and forgiveness and its future, in a way that no other institution can.
In putting before you these thoughts about why marriage is so important, we also want to recognise the experience of those who have suffered the pain of bereavement or relationship breakdown and their contribution to the Church and society. Many provide a remarkable example of courage and fidelity. Many strive to make the best out of difficult and complex situations. We hope that they are always welcomed and helped to feel valued members of our parish communities.
The reasons given by our government for wanting to change the definition of marriage are those of equality and discrimination. But our present law does not discriminate unjustly when it requires both a man and a woman for marriage. It simply recognises and protects the distinctive nature of marriage.
Changing the legal definition of marriage would be a profoundly radical step. Its consequences should be taken seriously now. The law helps to shape and form social and cultural values. A change in the law would gradually and inevitably transform society’s understanding of the purpose of marriage. It would reduce it just to the commitment of the two people involved. There would be no recognition of the complementarity of male and female or that marriage is intended for the procreation and education of children.
We have a duty to married people today, and to those who come after us, to do all we can to ensure that the true meaning of marriage is not lost for future generations.

Most Reverend V. Nichols

Most Reverend P. Smith

Tuesday, 6 March 2012

Bob Dylan: The Man In The Attic ... A Memoir by William Gay (R.I.P.)

Bob Dylan: The Man In The Attic

(A Memoir)

By William Gay


Bob Dylan: The Man In The Attic (A Memoir)
That year there seemed no place to keep warm. Wintertime in New York town, the wind blowing snow up and down the streets, sleet spinning against the glass storefronts, wind coming gritty and razorous out of the mouths of alleys, cutting through your clothing to the bone. This was the last of 1963, the cusp of ’64; Kennedy was in the graveyard and Johnson in the White House, and something was in the wind. The first hints of disquiet in the air. Some dire chord had been strummed, the vibrations were rolling outward, wars and rumors of wars.
Drunk on the rhetoric of Thomas Wolfe, I had left my home in the South and come looking for experience. I had determined to open myself to everything the world had to offer, good and ill, to accumulate life and hoard it like a miser and, at some more contemplative point, try to make sense of it. I had joined the Navy, and now I was in Brooklyn, where Thomas Wolfe had walked the midnight streets and chanted: “I wrote ten thousand words today.” The Navy had promised travel and experience, and so far it was working out. I was new at the job, but already I had been hassled by cops and hustled by folks in the financial end of the love business, beaten up by Canadian Airmen in Esquamalt, by a street gang in Brooklyn and by a surly bartender in Long Beach. Experience was unfolding itself to me like a flower.
I even had a girl. Her name was Sara and she had almond eyes and long, straight chestnut hair. She was a freshman at a city college and she was into social causes like the burgeoning civil-rights movement. She loved poetry and books and music. She even believed me when I told her I was going to be a writer. We had met in the summer and been together as often as we could through the fall and winter. It was understood that we were soulmates, that we would always be together.
We hung out mostly in the Village, looking for the already ancient footprints of Ginsberg and Kerouac, listening for the fading chants of the Beat Poets, listening to jazz and folk music and blues in the cafés and coffee houses. I was in my civilian clothing, trying to blend, but already the world was aspiring toward a hip scruf?ness the Navy wouldn’t tolerate and I had to make do with my regulation haircut and polished shoes.
One night we were in a coffeehouse when a girl sang a song unlike anything I’d ever heard. This place was a basket-house, a club where musicians who didn’t have paying gigs could perform a set then pass the basket around the audience. If you liked the songs you’d drop in a half-dollar or handful of change.
This song seemed to be called, “Don’t Think Twice, It’s All Right”—that was the refrain that ended every chorus. It sounded full of contradictions—traditional in form yet new in sentiment, a love song and a kiss-off, hard and soft, tough and tender at the same time. It was a way of looking at things, a way of turning a hard exterior toward a world always looking for your weaknesses, and it came at you from all over the place. It was bathed in a gothic twilight, roosters crowing at the break of dawn, with more departures down long lonesome roads than a noir novel. It was love and bitterness swirled together: “Goodbye’s just too good a word, babe. So I’ll just say fare-thee-well.” I have to talk to her, I told Sara. I want to know where she learned that song.
I don’t think so, Sara said. You just want to meet that singer.
We met her anyway.
Haven’t you heard of Bob Dylan? This is a Bob Dylan song. He’s got a lot of others, too, and they’re all great.
Bob Dylan. I had a vague memory of reading his name in a Nat Hentoff Playboy article on folksingers. But Hentoff hadn’t mentioned this.
The next weekend Sara took me uptown to a record shop she said carried everything, and I bought two Bob Dylan albums. The second one, The Freewheelin’ Bob Dylan, had “Don’t Think Twice” on it. Listening on the phonograph in Sara’s bedroom I realized the words were only half the story: the song was at least half attitude, acting, role-playing… something. As if James Dean had merged with Rimbaud and Raymond Chandler and strapped on a flat-top Martin. And I realized something else. You couldn’t duplicate this; this was a one-time thing. Spend a lifetime learning the picking, and you couldn’t get it the same way twice. Learn every shading and nuance of voice, and this would still be the only one in the world. Even Dylan couldn’t duplicate it—try to Xerox it and the machine would short-circuit and smoke and burn. I felt there was no precedent for this—that you could trace folk music back through its entire history, and you would not hear anything like this. The song and the song’s performance came out of someplace raw and powerful, painful as an open wound. It was a way of looking at things in a single frozen moment of time.
Of course there were other songs on the album, and sure enough, they were all great. There was even a song that evoked Sara, a Girl from the North Country, where snowflakes fall and the wind hits heavy on the borderline, a girl with hair that hung long and rolled and flowed all down her breast. Of course, more properly this was the East, not the North, but to the heart, the points of the compass are not only useless, but irrelevant.
In the fullness of time, “Don’t Think Twice” showed up on all the jukeboxes. Not by Dylan, but by Peter, Paul and Mary, who’d made it a moderate hit. Every bar and restaurant we went to, I rolled a lot of change down the throats of jukeboxes. I didn’t notice that Sara was becoming much vexed with the song until it was too late. I had suspected something was amiss. Long silences had crept into conversations that previously held no space for them. I would glance at her, and she would be watching me in a sort of speculative way. Perhaps our souls did not interlock as perfectly as we’d thought.
I’m sick of that damn song, she finally said. And I may have misjudged you. Your taste. He can’t sing, and not only that, but he’s not a poet, the way you say he is. It’s ridiculous, that rooster crowing at the break of dawn crap. Does he assume everyone owns a rooster? I’ve never even seen a rooster. And he’s always walking down those long lonesome roads. It’s just sentimental bullshit. I was outraged. Sentimental was the kiss of death, bullshit was even worse. Her own taste was now being called into question. It’s not sentimental. Romantic, maybe, but not sentimental. Romantic sentimental narcissistic bullshit. You only like it because it’s the way you think. Or the way you’d like to think. And it’s not only that. He’s got into your head. You’ve gotten too far into this stuff, and you’ve let him into your head. It’s warped your whole philosophy. My philosophy? Well, this was a hell of a note. Here I didn’t even know I had a philosophy, and the damned thing was warped. Broken before I even had a chance to use it. I tried to protest. This wasn’t another girl. It wasn’t another guy. It was a song. Just a song, and I should be able to turn this thing around. If you’d think about it, I said, if you could change your mind and stay…
Her eyes went cold. She was receding already, accelerating through the red shift, a girl from the North Country seen through the wrong end of a telescope. I had inadvertently paraphrased a line from the song, and naturally she’d recognized it.
Stabbed in the heart. Here on the dark side of the road. The future yawned before me. Years of the Navy to go, I was barely out of the starting gate. Our lives together forfeit. Our house unbuilt, our children unconcieved.
Nothing to do, nothing to say. Except goodbye’s too good a word, babe. So I’ll just say fare-thee-well.
Orders had come through—my ship was leaving New York. It was cold the morning we got underway. Rain, mist off the sea like pale smoke. Sara’s father came aboard to see me off. We stood awkwardly on the fantail, the sea choppy, she ship rocking against its lines. He was glad to see me go. He had never trusted my relationship with Sara, never trusted the breakup to last. He’d never trusted me. He asked prying questions, he watched me all the time, he stood with his ear pressed against Sara’s bedroom door when we were in there—you could hear him there breathing.
He’ll turn on you, he told Sara. They persecute Jewish people in the South.
I hadn’t known that.
They even lynch them. They’ve done that in Georgia.
I hadn’t known that, either. I had never been to a lynching, never known anyone who had.
For some odd reason he’d brought his old duffel bag from World War II. He handed it to me with the solemnity of ceremony. I want you to have this, he said. I accepted it. It was heavy and I wondered what it was. Lugers salvaged from the battlefield? The severed head of Hitler? Live hand grenades unpinned? A bomb with its clockwork whirring? It was grapefruit. They were enormous. They looked like heavy pink bowling balls.
These are not your ordinary grapefruit, he said. These are expensive gourmet grapefruit. I hope that you can appreciate their quality. I hope you enjoy them. You can share them with your little friends.
I plan to, I said.
He took my hand again. He clasped it between both his own. The steel deck was throbbing through the ?oors of our shoes. His eyes were bulbous with the pressure of containing so much joy.
Good luck on your journeys, he said.
And he went away, stumbling down the gangplank. My little friends were not terribly interested in grapefruit, gourmet or otherwise. They were inclined to toss them into the sea. Making a little game of it, trying to sink a floating grapefruit with a hurled grapefruit. For some reason I folded the duffel bag and stowed it under an arm. The duffel bag of the father of the girl from the North Country. The grapefruit began to drift back toward the shore, back toward Manhattan. Where I was not going.
The towers of New York reared above the cold choppy water. Manhattan was stamped against the horizon like a mirage, like a palace desire had conjured.
The grapefruit drifted toward the girl from the North Country as if homing devices were embedded in them. Look out your window, babe, and I’ll be gone. Fare-thee-well.
Down through Cape Hatteras to the Panama Canal. Storms lay on the ocean. It seemed always night, always cold, everything felt wet with salt spray, everything tasted of sea salt. Seasick, homesick, heartsick for the girl from the North Country. Her image holographed in my memory, the taste of her mouth still on my tongue. Sick for the Village and espresso and the street freaks and poets, for Liam Clancy and Maria Muldaur and Mississippi John Hurt.
People had told me New York was cold and heartless. They had lied. I’d been invited into folks’ homes and slept in their beds, ate at their tables. I’d had good times and interesting conversations. I had smelled Sara’s hair, enjoyed soft flesh without the exchange of filthy lucre.
Now I was bound around the horn to San Diego. Where these things did not live. Where everything was sand and plastic palm trees. Where there was a sea of white sailor hats and battalions of jarheads who wanted nothing so much as to take you out into the alley and kick your sorry ass. Where merchants with cash-register eyes stood in the doorways of their jewelry stores and tailor shops and beckoned you to enter. Come in here, sailor. Easy weekly payments. Get an engagement ring for that girl back in the old hometown. A $20 watch for only a hundred bucks. Handmade suits of Italian silk that ?t as if they’d been handstitched in the rain forest by spider monkeys.
And the men who cruised the bus stops like predators in late-model Volvos and Austin Healeys. In their sunglasses and golfing caps. Hey there, sailor, want a lift? How far are you going?
Nowhere near that far, good buddy.
And, oh my God, I’d just remembered. The drinking age in San Diego was 21, not New York’s youth-accommodating 18.
The ship rolled and yawed. Folks strapped themselves into their bunks. I couldn’t sleep. I lay and thought about what Sara had said: You’ve let him into your head.
Well, I’d concede that. But there was a precedent for it. Everyone has folks in their head. Already I had a few tenants up in those attic rooms. James Dean, Thomas Wolfe, William Faulkner. Flannery O’Connor had a lifetime lease, paid up forever. Faulkner had Melville and Conrad and Joyce. Even Dylan had Woody Guthrie and those beat poets and the French symbolists. And Little Richard. Woody had Joe Hill and Jesus Christ and maybe Abraham Lincoln. Lincoln had the founding fathers.
So what if I gave Dylan a room. He’d be the only musician. Always room for one more, just another towel in the bathroom, another place setting at the dining room table. I could give him the room with that little gallery where Carson McCullers used to sit in the twilight and watch the violet darkness seep into the soft Georgia landscape of her memory.
She’d be pissed and leave in a snit, but don’t think twice, it’s all right. She was outward-bound, anyway. She and Truman Capote had taken to scuffling and fighting and hissing like cats, and I was sick of the both of them.
Sometimes I could hear Dylan’s boots on the stairs. He stayed in his room a lot, drinking, I think. He sat on his cot and tuned his Martin while McCullers, interrupted at her packing, screamed through the wall—You want to knock that shit o?? It’s three o’clock in the morning. Do you have to tune that thing at three o’clock in the morning?
Of course this attic was not a nice place to live. Sometimes, in fact, it was a sordid, squalid place. You couldn’t have gotten Eudora Welty in there with a sawed-o? shotgun. Walker Percy, slumming, sneered, waved a dismissive arm and hailed a cab for uptown. Its tenants drank too much and had indiscriminate and unprotected sex as often as they could, and when they weren’t doing it they were thinking about it in a constant state of tumescence. Regret and loss tinged the windowpanes, darkened the fading wallpaper. Once, Faulkner passed out sitting with his back pressed against the hot radiator and when they kicked down the door and peeled off his polo shirt the vertical brown burn marks on his back looked like the bars on a window.
This place was set on the wrong side of the tracks and too near them. There was shouting and glass breaking at hours far past midnight. In the dark, freight trains went highballing past, their shrieks honing away to a thin remnant of loss that was like a taste on the back of your tongue that made you want to go with them and see the unknowable landscape they were arc-welding out of the night. The deferential ghosts of James Agee’s Alabama sharecroppers hovered in the hallways or crouched figuring with their fingers in the dust on the floorboards, spectral and transparent revenants toting up the ciphers of lives that always came up wanting.
Dylan didn’t seem to mind. He settled in. Sometimes I could hear him coughing. Sometimes his typewriter went on pecking until dawn.
On leave, preparatory to shipping out for the South China Sea, I imported Dylan to Lewis County, Tenn., brought him in like contraband in my sea bag. Three albums now. Two friends and my brother and myself sat in my brother’s room grouped around the stereo.
You’ve got to hear this, I said. He’s a good guitar player.
I didn’t say that I had been listening to him for months and that I’d decided he was part visionary and part prophet, or that I was so far into the words I might never get out or even want out.
The needle hissed on the vinyl. The guitar picking seemed to come out of some old, lost, absolutely timeless place—it could’ve been a hundred years ago or next week. The voice, when it came, was always unexpected. You were hearing it for the first time no matter how many times you’d heard it before, the voice weary and resigned and pissed o? all at the same time—it ain’t no use to sit and wonder why, babe, iffen you don’t know by now…
Son of a bitch sure can’t sing, my friend said, his ears forever spoiled by mainstream Elvis and Johnny Mathis.
He can’t blow that French harp, either, the other friend said.
I didn’t protest, I’d heard all this before. He’s a good guitar picker, I said again.
But my brother, who was learning to play then and whose instrument was never more than an arm’s reach away, picked his guitar up from the bed. He leaned and carefully set the tone arm back. When the guitar came again he started turning the keys and plucking strings, matching the tuning that was coming out of the speakers. When he was satisfied, his left hand began feeling around the strings experimentally for the chords.
Calendar pages riffled, blew away in the wind, it was another year. I was in the Gulf of Tonkin in the South China Sea, war smoldering like a banked fire. Eight-inch guns hammered and hammered and paint flaked off the galley ceiling like harsh gray snowflakes. The ship maneuvered to avoid conjectural torpedoes. On the decks of our carrier, jets came and went and came and went, left loaded and returned empty in a seemingly endless cycle. On the beach, the fires from ammunition dumps flared and ebbed all night. By day, burning oil refineries smoked and stank. Already I was looking forward to getting the hell gone—something didn’t quite compute here. What was happening never matched what I was reading about in the paper. There seemed some grotesque disparity between event and event’s recounting.
Still, there was Dylan. Four albums now. On the new one, the songs were different; surreal images were becoming more and more common. These songs flickered around the edges. They were becoming more personal, their concerns moving from the ills of society toward some interior landscape. Less protest music. He seemed to have decided it was a lost cause. He confided in the hallway that he sometimes felt as if he were charged with holding together a world already faulted, leaking and determined to come apart at the seams. The folk-music business expected him to do this. He was tired of it. He didn’t think he could do it. He didn’t think the world was going to last. I was keeping the music to myself. Dylan was an acquired taste nobody I knew was interested in acquiring. I had one of those small phonographs, the kind that closes like a suitcase, not unlike the one Anse Bundren’s new wife is carrying at the end of As I Lay Dying, and I kept it with my records in the computer room that was my workspace. I would go there in the small hours of the night and write and listen to music. I had a lot more records now—blues and folk and the new singer/songwriters who were working Dylan’s side of the street.
Timing is everything. I was playing the album, Another Side of Bob Dylan, a song called “All I Really Want to Do.” To the untrained ear this song is particularly grating. There’s a part where, on the word “do,” his voice rises and rises and pulsates until it screeches into a sort of yodeling giggle. It’s great, and funny as hell, but there are folks who regard this moment as a perpetual fingernail on an interminable chalkboard.
McPherson, my leading petty officer and boss, chose this moment to come through the hatch and see what was going on. If it had been another song, a moment earlier or a moment later, everything might’ve gone down differently. He gave a sort of strangled inarticulate cry. He seemed taken with some manner of fit. His mouth was a horrified O; his eyes bulged in agony. He clasped his hands to his ears. God Almighty damn! he screamed, and ran across the deck and jerked the cord from the wall. He grabbed up my records blindly—Dylan, Joan Baez, Brownie McGhee, Jimmy Reed. He jammed them between the lid and turntable and forced the lid down and grabbed up everything and whirled and went through the hatch. I could hear him going up the ladder to the main deck.
I followed him. He was at the rail. The deck rose and fell in the chop.
Drown this caterwauling son of a bitch, he said.
He hurled everything into the sea, albums skipping like frisbees, the phonograph listing and filling with water, going down for the third time, do not resuscitate.
He turned and went without a word.
I stood watching the records drift toward the shore. Like messages sent into space, hello out there. I wondered what the Vietcong would make of these strange cultural artifacts. All these drowned bluesmen and Cambridge girls with ironed-looking hair. I imagined them putting Dylan on the turntable, lowering the tonearm. Scratching their heads in perplexity. Goodbye’s just too good a word, babe. So I’ll just say fare-thee-well.
Timing is everything. When I stepped off the plane that had flown me from Japan to Long Beach for discharge, a crewman’s tinny radio was blasting away. I stepped into the hot glare of sunlight, and a familiar voice was demanding, How does it feel? To be on your own? A complete unknown? With no direction home? Like a rolling stone?
That sounds like Dylan, I thought. But the music sure doesn’t. What the hell’s happened here? Dylan hadn’t been in his room for a few months—he was on the road, more changes in the wind.
There was more strangeness around. Changes abounded, they seemed to be the order of the day. I’d been gone 18 months. In days to come I saw men on the streets with hair down to their shoulders, people carrying signs protesting the war. Something’s happening here, but you don’t know what it is, do you, Mr. Jones? I saw rock music on primetime TV, a show called Hullabaloo. The Byrds were singing Dylan, granny glasses, more long hair. McGuinn was even phrasing like Dylan. I saw a duo calling themselves Sonny and Cher. They looked like Brill Building hippies. They were singing a song called “I Got You Babe.” The words were drivel except for one word. Babe? Where’s that Babe coming from? They’re stealing from Dylan, picking his pocket, ripping him o? like a Tijuana pimp. Where’s a cop when you need one?
More calendar pages blowing in the wind, a veritable snowstorm of them. Time passes slowly up here in the mountains, the world goes its weary way. Dylan and I grow older. He’s much on the road these years, identities flicker like frames in a film. He’s a family man, a gypsy rover, a whiteface minstrel, a born-again Christian. He’s an 80-year-old bluesman from the Mississippi Delta; masks shuffle like cards in a deck. I try a few masks of my own.
There comes a day when the attic is almost deserted. Except for Dylan, the tenants are long gone. Who knows where—perhaps they’re winos living like street people. Heroes have feet of clay; they stand on shifting sands. A man must make his own way. A cold wind blows down Desolation Row, the ambulances are long gone, the sweeping Cinderella is so far past the age of being easy, her Bette Davis style is a grotesque vamping.
A man could learn to live listening to Woody Guthrie, Dylan said a long time ago. I believe that this is just as true of Dylan. You could learn to live listening your way through all those albums. Especially if you have an affinity for masks and one-eyed jacks and shifting identities—now you see me, now you don’t.
And you learn to accept growing older. You become aware of mortality. The sun lowers, hovers over the horizon. I got new eyes, Dylan marvels. Everything looks so far away. Shadows are falling, and I been here all day, he sings. It’s too hot to sleep, and time’s running away. But then there’s that reassuring kiss-my-ass defiance: I ain’t looking for nothing in anyone’s eyes.
Don’t think twice, it’s all right. The more things change the more they stay the same.
A man must make his own way, and you grow too old for heroes. But Dylan and I go back a long way; we’ve been through a lot together, and you never grow too old for a friend, even one you’ve never met.
Presidents come and go, and empires rise and crumble, but Dylan’s still on the road. The never-ending tour rolls on to its inevitable end. But nobody’s giving up here, nobody’s getting old. On Love and Theft, the most recent studio album, Dylan sounds positively rejuvenated, shot full of some kind of goat-gland tonic, funny as Charlie Chaplin, brash as Robert Johnson and wise and fatalistic as Mississippi John Hurt.
So jump into that hopped-up Mustang Ford, babe, and throw your panties overboard. This ride’s not over yet.
And hey—girl from the North Country: Goodbye’s just too good a word, babe. So I’ll just say fare-thee-well.


William Gay (1943-2012)

William Gay (1943-2012)

Noted Southern writer William Gay was reportedly found dead last night at the age of 68, reports The Nashville Scene. Suspected cause of death is heart failure.

Gay, a naval veteran of the Vietnam War, didn’t publish his first novel until 1999, when The Long Home won a James A. Michener Memorial Prize and started a bidding war among publishers for the follow-up, Provinces of Night. His 2002 novel I Hate To See That Evening Sun Go Down was adapted by director Scott Teems.

Monday, 5 March 2012

Gay marriage is like slavery, Catholic leader says

Gay marriage is like slavery, Catholic leader says

Britain’s most senior Catholic, Cardinal Keith O'Brien, has condemned gay marriage as an “aberration”, likening it to slavery and abortion.

Catholic leader Cardinal Keith O'Brien clashes with David Cameron on same-sex marriage plans
The new clash between the Coalition and the Catholic Church comes as the Church of England also appears increasingly split over the issue of gay rights Photo: David Cheskin/PA
Cardinal Keith O'Brien said countries which legalise gay marriage are “shaming themselves” by going against the “natural law,” and should not consider their actions “progress”.
He claimed same sex unions were the “thin end of the wedge” and would lead to the “further degeneration of society into immorality.”
In a series of controversial comments, he told BBC Radio 4’s Today programme that if same sex marriage were legalised, “further aberrations would take place and society would be degenerating even further than it already has into immorality.”
The interview, conducted by John Humphries, followed an article Cardinal O’Brien wrote for the Sunday Telegraph, in which he likened gay marriage to slavery.

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He wrote: “Imagine for a moment that the Government had decided to legalise slavery but assured us that ‘no one will be forced to keep a slave’.
“Would such worthless assurances calm our fury? Would they justify dismantling a fundamental human right? Or would they simply amount to weasel words masking a great wrong?”
He has now defended his comments, saying: “I think it’s a very, very good example of what might happen on our own country in the present time."
Describing same sex marriage as the “thin end of the wedge,” he also used the Abortion Act as an example of what could follow, claiming it had let to about seven million abortions and “further aberrations”.
Responding to accusations that his use of language, including the word "grotesque", was inflammatory, he said:
"I am not saying it is grotesque, but perhaps to some people it might appear grotesque.
“I don’t think it’s inflammatory at all. I think it’s handing on the teaching of the Christian Church for more than 2,000 years and I am doing my best to hand it on in a way than many people can hear it.
“I think if the UK does go for same sex marriage it is indeed shaming our country.
“We’re taking standards which are not just our own but standards from the Declaration of Human Rights of the United Nations where marriage is defined as a relationship between man and woman and turning that on its head.
“We are trying to redefine something which has been known and revered for centuries and making it something rather different.
“This is changing the whole notion of what marriage and what a family is. It affects children who are born, who have a right to a mother and father.
“The natural law teaching of what marriage is is quite simple. It is natural for a man and woman to be together for the procreation and education of children and for their own mutual love.
“I think that it is time now to call a halt to what you might call progress. I do not call what is happening nowadays progress.
"I would say that countries where this is legal are indeed violating human rights."
His inflammatory remarks led commentators on social network site Twitter to condemn him as bigoted and incoherent, with some accusing him of “hate speech”.
One user, calling herself Sam Whyte, said: “Think I'm up too early. Just turned the radio on and it appears to be the 1950s.”
Another, Sophie Atherton, said: “Cardinal Keith O'Brien, YOU shame the country with your hateful, bigoted backward views.”
But another, F R Hill, said: “Thank goodness someone is out there talking sense and truth, well said Cardinal.”

Catholics will be called to oppose gay marriage

Roman Catholic Church prepares to rally faithful in gay marriage debate .

The Roman Catholic Church is considering enlisting the support of more than a million regular worshippers in opposition to Government plans for same-sex marriage.
Photo: Getty Images
The Roman Catholic Church is planning to enlist the support of more than a million regular worshippers in opposition to Government plans for same-sex marriage.
Senior bishops are preparing to draw up a letter to be read at Masses across England and Wales when the Government consultation on plans to redefine marriage gets under way later this month, it is understood.
It would be only the second time in recent history that a joint pastoral letter on behalf of all Catholic bishops in England and Wales has been issued on an issue of political importance.
The move is being proposed as the debate over extending marriage to homosexual couples gathers momentum. At the weekend Cardinal Keith O’Brien, the most senior Catholic cleric in Britain, accused the Coalition of trying to “redefine reality” and branded the proposals a “grotesque subversion of a universally accepted human right”.
Although the proposals would not extend to Scotland, he argued that they would nevertheless “shame the UK in the eyes of the world”.
Cardinal O’Brien is one of only two British members of the College of Cardinals, the body which elects popes. Cardinal Cormac Murphy-O’Connor, the former Archbishop of Westminster, remains a voting cardinal until he turns 80 in August.
The remarks drew robust responses from politicians including Harriet Harman, the deputy Labour leader, who accused the Cardinal of “scaremongering”. “I don’t want anybody to feel that this is a licence forwhipping up prejudice,” she said. Peter Tatchell, the gay rights campaigner, said: “If he supports marriage, the Cardinal should welcome the fact that many lesbian and gay couples want to get married.”
Meanwhile, Alan Duncan, the Conservative international development minister, who is in a civil partnership, said that the plans would not apply to religious marriage.
“I don’t think they need cause any upset for Cardinal O’Brien because they’re not really going to affect him,” Mr Duncan said.
But one of Mr Duncan’s Conservative colleagues, Peter Bone MP, argued that the parents and teachers who objected to promoting same-sex marriage in schools could be ostracised.
“If marriage is redefined, schools will have no choice but to give children equivalent teaching on same-sex marriage, even those children of a very young age, including those at primary school,” he wrote.
“So what will happen to parents who because of religious, or philosophical beliefs take their children out of lessons?
“Parents who object will be treated as bigots and outcasts, possibly excluded from being on the PTA [Parent Teacher Association], or from being a governor.
“Discriminated against and persecuted because they hold views that have been enshrined in our laws and have been the cornerstone of our society for 2,000 years.
“And what of the teachers who object to teaching about same-sex marriage. Will they face disciplinary action? How will it affect their careers?”
Five years ago, a pastoral letter issued by the then Archbishop of Westminster, Cardinal Cormac Murphy-O’Connor, helped secure the future of faith schools whose funding and status was in doubt at the time.