Did You Know...?

As we all know, the original Star Wars was cast primarily of unknowns to cut down production costs (with the exception of Peter Cushing and Alec Guinness). However, leaked documents from the Skywalker Ranch have recently shown on George Lucas' "wish list" for casting. One can only speculate how popular the movie would have been had it come together as originally planned.

Luke Skywalker: Gary Coleman
Ben Kenobi: Yul Brynner
Princess Leia: Meryl Streep
Han Solo: Burt Reynolds
Tarkin: John Wayne
Darth Vader (voice): Richard Burton
C3P0 (voice): Andre The Giant

An additional character, Sassy Skywalker, was believed to have been created especially for Goldie Hawn, but was cut due to her filming commitments for 'Private Benjamin'.

The History Of Stuff Part 15(ish)

Safety Pins

Safety Pins are, as far as the world of clasping goes, a fairly recent invention. In 1937 the British Interplanetary Society funded several studies to solve some of the inherent problems with space flight. One of these was "Why should we go into outer space when we can't even make a pin the doesn't hurt people's bloody thumbs?" posed by Arthur C Clarke's mother.

After 6 months work by a privately-funded foundation, the prototype pin was unveiled at the 1938 World's Fair in Chicago. 3 feet long, and weighing in at 75kg due to it's solid-steel construction, the pin was regarded by most as an extravagance until the advances in alloying techniques brought on by WW2 enabled it to be reduced to the size we commonly see them today.

The Safety Pin was named after the scientist most involved in it's design, Dr Walter Safety-Pin.

The Curious Case Of The Robotic Panda, Part 5, Conclusion.

No fewer than three days after my correspondence was printed in the Greenly-Upon-Throckmorton Mercantile Gazette, the cigarettes still lay where they had been placed by the owner upon my occasional table. This had caused me no small amount of concern, as it necessitated the use of the lower-slung ‘coffee’ table for me to place my evening stout upon whilst imbibing in the evening.

Able to stand the strain any longer, I resolved that the matter must be settled. I gathered up my raincoat and umbrella and, despite the inclemency of the late-autumn weather, I set out to the Edgebaston Rd, knowing of nowhere else to begin my enquiries. My efforts however proved futile, as when I reached the road I found it devoid of any pterodactyl carcass. I enquired of a ‘bobby’ (Constable Tibbins, I presumed) and was informed that the carcass had been set upon by urchins lately driven out of London by a periodic sweep of the East End by the Queen’s Own Dragoons.

Somewhat despondent I returned home, only to be informed by Jenkins that while I had been out the Corsican had returned and collected his cigarettes.

I sank into my easy chair and, with a heart far lighter than it had been for several days, read the paper. As far as I was concerned, the matter was at an end.

John Howard attacks a duck.

Mr Speaker, my purpose today is to explain to the House and through it to the Australian people the government's belief that the world community must deal decisively with this duck; why this duck’s continued defiance of the United Nations and its possession of peck-capable and airborne weapons and its pursuit of a waterborne capability poses a real and unacceptable threat to the stability and security of our world; why the matters at stake go to the very credibility of the United Nations itself; why the issue is of direct concern to Australia and why, therefore, the Australian government has authorised the forward positioning of elements of the Australian Defence Force to Lake Burley-Griffin.

Although there is considerable debate about the best course of action to resolve this crisis I want, for a moment, to focus on the one thing that unites us all—and that is a common abhorrence of being pecked.

The other point of agreement shared by members in this House, by our community and by the community of nations is that this duck must not be allowed to possess weapons of mass destruction—for the security and stability of our world, it must be disarmed.

For years the nations of the world have sought to persuade this duck to abandon these most offensive of weapons. The duck has refused to comply and now the weight of the world's attention has fallen on him.

Only one aquatic mammal can determine whether force will be necessary or not. Only one aquatic mammal, acting alone, can make the choice for peace. That aquatic mammal is this duck.

Full disclosure by this duck of its peck-capable, airborne and waterborne weapons programs and immediate and total cooperation by this duck with the provisions of resolution 1441 of the Security Council will remove the need for military action.

In his report to the Security Council, Dr Hans Blix, the head of the United Nations weapons inspection body for this duck, made it clear where he believed that the responsibility for the current terrible impasse lay, and I quote:

“This duck appears not to have come to a genuine acceptance—not even today—of the disarmament, which was demanded of it and which it needs to carry out to win the confidence of the world and to live in peace.”

Of at least one thing we can all be absolutely certain—if the world turns its back on the threat posed by this duck, if the community of nations gives up because it is all too hard, then this duck will not reward us all with benign behaviour.

Worse still, other rogue mammals observing the world community's failure to deal with this duck will be encouraged to flout the international conventions on beak control and develop their own peck-capable, bite-capable and even scratch-capable weapons.

There will be no stability—no security—for the citizens of Canberra until this duck is disarmed of its weapons of mass destruction—totally and permanently.

I wish I were an Eagle
And could fly above the rain,
I’d head up in the deep blue sky,
And not come back again.

The Devious Plot Of the Robotic Panda, Part 4.

The Editor,
Greenly-Upon-Throckmorton Mercantile Gazette,
14-18 Tubercular Mews,
Greenley-Upon-Throckmorton, DV1.

Sir,

Recently, an incident occurred in my sitting-room which I feel I must bring to the notice of the greater British public. Whilst I am not given to making appeals for assistance of the readership of this esteemed periodical I feel that I am justified in this case. Recently, a workman left his cigarettes in my house. Owing to the nature of his employ, I have no other means of returning them to him save to advertise their whereabouts within the pages of the Greenly-Upon-Throckmorton Mercantile Gazette, in the hope that he may read my correspondence and collect his property with alacrity.

Yours,

Dr Tunstall Warburton, esq.,
The Cloisters,
Lower-Greenly-Upon-Throckmorton, DV2.

The Dastardly Case Of The Robotic Panda, Part 3.

It was, to the bst of my recollection, several days later that there came a knock upon the front door. As it was my man Jenkins’ afternoon off, I received the visitor myself. There upon the stoop stood a small man, swarthy, doubtless of mixed parentage. From his skin tone I surmised that he was Corsican with a touch of the Orient. Unaccustomed as I was to speaking to members of the lower class I nonetheless asked him to state his business forthwith.

“Beggin yer pardon, sir,” he said in fluid, well-modulated tones, “I’m ‘ere abaht the damage.”
From this I surmised that he was the man whom the panda had spoken of. Well, I thought to myself, curiouser and curiouser. I allowed him in and he set to work, occasionally hastening to a small work-van which he had parked in the driveway. As I did not care to observe him in his labours I repaired to my den where I continued work on my treatise for the Haberdashers Society. At length I detected no further sound in the sitting room. I ventured forth and found to my horror that while he had completed his work satisfactorily and departed, he had left his cigarettes, a common brand, carelessly flung on the occasional table.

The Mysterious Case Of The Robotic Panda, Part 2.

The next morning I gave the incident little heed until I had cause to venture along the Edgebaston Road for my newspaper and snuff. There, crumpled in a heap and preventing the egress of north-bound vehicular traffic (including, I noted, a charabanc of schoolchildren) lay the slowly-putrefying carcass of a pterodactyl. It's flanks were peppered by burn marks which appeared to have been uncannily made by some form of intensely-focussed light beam. I hastened to the constabulary-house, whereupon I was duly informed by Sergeant O’Reilly that the duty log had noted an incident in the area at a late hour.

“An incident?” I queried.
“Yes sir,” replied O’Reilly, “Constable Tibbins has recorded it as a fracas, but between you and me, he’s new and prone to exaggeration.”

I thanked the Sergeant and, fortified in the knowledge that justice had been served, continued to the tobacconist.

The Strange Case Of The Robotic Panda, Part 1.

Yesterday evening, as I was sitting in my evening chair enjoying the day’s paper with a glass of stout upon the occasional table beside me, I became aware that a large robotic panda piloted by a small panda who sat inside its head had crashed through my drawing-room wall.

“I say,” hallooed the small panda, its voice amplified through the harsh metallic robotic speaking grille, “can you tell me the way to the Edgebaston Road?”

Well, as it happens the tobacconist’s where I purchase the paper lies upon the Edgebaston road, and as such I make a daily constitutional there. I informed the panda of this, and gave directions, whereupon it thanked me and withdrew.

At length it returned.
“Dreadfully sorry about the mess,” it said, surveying the damage through its optic photo-sensors.
I glanced around. “Yes,” I remarked, “it will be a bit of a bother.”
“No matter,” replied the panda as it left once more, “I’ll send a man around. Soon have it looking like a new pin.”
And that was that.

From The Archives

Return Of The Jedi: The Lost Scripts
Darth Vader has arrived on the new Death Star to check it's construction.
Admiral Piett: My men are working as fast as they can, Lord Vader.
Darth Vader: The Emperor does not want to hear excuses, Admiral Piett.
AP: But my lord, he asks the impossible.
DV: Tell him when he arrives.
AP: The Emperor is coming here?
DV: He wishes to inspect the construction personally.
AP: We shall double our efforts!
DV: I hope so, Admiral, for your sake.
(pause)
AP: Cor. Will he be bringing Mara Jade?
DV: No. Although the existence of her character was later backdated by the Timothy Zahn novels, at this point in the chronology she does not exist.

AP: Shame.
DV: Quite. Oh, and sprinkle around some dead Bothans. He seems to like that.

Book Review

"Stand On It: The Living, Loving, Brawling Exploits of Stroker Ace".

I bought this tired, dog-eared book from the Rotary Book Exchange opposite Marion, for 50 cents. I bought it because I have a vague memory of the cheesy old Burt Reynolds movie "Stroker Ace" and assumed it was the novel of the film.

It is not.

It is in fact the book that the movie was *very loosely* based on. It's about 10 years older than the film, and was known in its day as one of the pre-eminent American comedy novels. Written by 'Stroker Ace' (real author uncredited) it's a first-person walk through the later years of a former F1 driver, then Indy driver, who moves to NASCAR for some easy pickings before he retires. And that's about it. The book follows him around, a fish very much in-water, guiding the unfamiliar reader through his world. It also contains some of the greatest passages about motor racing i've ever read. Stroker doesn't spare the jargon, he just writes it as it comes to him, and the result is the realest sounding stuff around. For my money (all 50 cents of it) this is one of the classic motor racing books. Yes, it's a comedy, but that doesn't stop it from being a classic.

P.S. We are also told that the racing didn't stop when the chequered flag fell, and that when off-track, for the NASCAR driver rent-a-cars were the weapon of choice. But there's a great chapter towards the end of the book, when Stroker goes to the Bahamas to race in a Formula Vee event and all he can get at the airport is a 4-cyl Vauxhall Viva (a HB Torana, for the uninitiated). The section in which Stroker attempts to drift it is particularly good.

Just a thought

If I had a dollar for every time i've added something up wrong, i'd have eleventy dollars fifty.

Random Doobings

"Look out, the lights! Quick, hand me those matches!"
"Ooh roight, Ted."
"Shut up while I get this lantern lit," *strikestrikestrike*, "damn! These matches don't work!"
"That's funny, they did this morning."

From The Archives

The Top Gear 'Star In A Reasonably Priced Car' 1951

This year's field was jolly close. Our new reasonably priced car, a Standard Vanguard, was certainly tested to it's limits by our surprisingly talented guests:

1. Enid Blyton 3:26
2. Noel Coward 3:27
3. Mike 'The Stig' Hawthorne 3:29
4. Hoagy Carmichael 3:33
5. Alberto Ascari (W) 3:34
6. Doris Day 3:36
7. Joseph Stalin (W) 3:40
8. Peter Finch 3:42
9. John Wayne 3:43
10: Sir Winston Churchill (G) 4:23

[Editor's Note: (W) in this case stands for 'Wop', as it did not rain in Britain in the 1950s. (G) refers to a track invasion by gypsies.]