Where in the world did you get this? Love it! Bristol Creme and Twister?? How exciting!
Well, if he wants the hat, then at least at some time in his life he did learn to play Monopoly.
The first part of this had me in stitches.
He can have the hat, as long as I get the horse.
I don’t know Susan S., but she always likes the things I like. Hence she is a magnificent woman!This is greaaaaaaaaaaaaat.We are having a heat wave. I’ve just returned from a new Indian restaurant in our downtown hotel which is suffering from air-conditioning malfunction. Just so you’d know. I sit in front of the a/c with a bottle of Kentish ale. Retired life is good!
A * LOT * of talent went into the first part, in the dialogue between Jane & Rowan. Then it ceases to be “art” when the message “he is boringly obsessed with things and a bit authoritarian” outstrips the playfulness and creative strength …of the dialogue – that’s where it is no longer “art” and more like a “political tract.” The most excellent radio theatre piece devolves into uninventive, churlish advocacy. Not to say that he couldn’t get the second part, with it’s “message” intact, up to par – maybe just not pulling the stops out so completely would work – it’s at this point that the “suspension of disbelief” thing simply fails. More work thus on the poetic devices at work here.
Rev. Jph should look carefully at why the first part works / what he did well there, and why the second part fails; he is too brilliant to continue to let things slide like this, and I would love to see him put that amazing talent to its very best use. He could go a long way.
Well, thanks for your comments, James. I will pass them on to the BBC who transmitted this item on Radio 4 last week.
You don’t think I would be an out of work priest cobbling together a mildly interesting blog for a few regulars if I had the talent to come up with sketches like this, do you?
You may not be called to do radio sketches, but please do not underestimate your ample talent 😉
“We are not gossiping, we’re neworking” – ok, very short, but brilliant nonetheless.