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BBC Radio 4 has the most excellent programme "Desert Island Disks", where celebrities get to have a conversation and choose (amongst other items) the eight most significant music tracks they would select to accompany them in their long time of abandonment on the fictitious desert island.
These are
the tracks that punctuate particular memories and turning points, like the birth of a child, or the receipt of a major award. All are intended to make the stay on the island one of pleasant recall, but I detect a missing opportunity here, and that is the motivation to escape from such an isolated existence.
This is solved by the selection of another set of recordings being determined under the title of "Desert Island Dicks" as these are the tracks permanently associated with bad memories, as well as being the most hated of tracks guaranteed to motivate escape from their incessant playing on a perpetual loop with no off switch.
For me the first of these tracks would be the insufferable "Hallelujah" by the equally insufferable, boke generating, Leonard Cohen. Cockney Rebel's "Make me smile" would certainly join the mix and I can think of many more. (please don't make this into a list)
The point is that this idea is the direct opposite of Desert Island Discs. Bad memories are recalled. "This was playing when the car went into the back of the Bentley". "This was playing when the Trump moron was elected." "This was playing as the fish hook sunk into the back of my head"..... I'm off to build a boat from coconut shells and seaweed strips.
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Annotation:
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We thought (indeed hoped) this would be a reality TV show about Tony Blair and Gordon Brown marooned together on a tropical island, and their incompetent and ineffectual attempts at survival, culminating in one of them killing and eating the other. |
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This is a bit soft by comparison, but we will proffer a pastry nonetheless. |
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Bun. Although the thought of a desert island with just
enough infrastructure to listen to music is quiet appealing
about now, in view of the coming of Hillarump. |
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//Hillarump// - why not "Trumpary"? |
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If Roy Plomley were alive today, he'd spin in his
grave. |
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I thought it was a scheme to send autonomous, solar-powered drones around the world to draw dicks - big enough to be seen from orbit - on beaches. oh well. |
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How about "Desert Island Desks", where we gather
together all the HR personnel, Health 'n' Safety staff,
and other people who spend their lives sitting down,
and strand them on a remote island? The program
could closely monitor their progress with updates
every fifty years or so. |
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How about Tongue of Gangsta? It's in the Orkneys. |
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////Hillarump// - why not "Trumpary"?// |
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That's ... unpleasantly suggestive. |
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Quite what of, we're not entirely sure. But it's quite definitely unpleasantly suggestive. |
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It would be possible to make a TV or radio programme about the waterfowl on the island. A good working title would perhaps be "Desert Island Ducks". |
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Hey wait, I like Cohen... |
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Cohen induces instant vomit. |
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//Clitrump//
Is US politics currently in it's pubescent faze? |
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More like its death throes, seemingly. |
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//Hey wait, I like Cohen...// |
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I respect that. I used to like Cohen. However, as my life has got better, I've found that my appreciation of Cohen has diminished. |
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Therefore, if your life is in an "I like Cohen" place ... then I hope you're OK. The tree where the doves go to die is perhaps not a place to linger too long. |
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