The Case of the Mysterious Telegram

Starring:

Bassim El-Wakil as Sherlock Holmes
Stewart Cork as Doctor Watson

from the diary of Doctor John Watson MD

Thursday April 9th, 2015

It was when I was partaking in my sandwiches in the canteen at luncheon that I received a telegram from Holmes:

Holmes cryptic commands

The knocker on which I knocked thrice

This message  puzzled me. Why would Holmes ask me to check on his house without leaving me a key to do so? Surely this couldn't have been an oversight on his behalf. And why would he command me to deduce? Something was afoot! I wondered if perhaps he had been kidnapped and that this cryptic message was a clue to help me find and rescue him.

Then I realised he probably knew that I would set off the alarm and not have any idea about how to switch it off, This would be why there was no key. But something about the telegram still troubled me. Something didn't quite seem right. I must venture to his residence and check immediately!

My cunning disguise

I arrived at Holmes' abode and strode up to the door and knocked on the knocker not once, not twice but thrice. From the lack of answer I managed to deduce that no one was home. Curious!

Walking around the side of the house, I discovered that Holmes' carriage was there. I know from experience that Holmes is lazy and wouldn't go to Ireland by foot which made me more suspicious.

I found a comfortable secluded spot to sit and watch the house and donned a disguise and hid from sight. Nothing happened so I went home to dinner.

Not a clue

I noticed upon leaving the gardens of Holmes' abodethat the house next door was called Oakhurst only the U was a V.

Was this a further clue from Sherlock Holmes to test my deductive powers. Had he somehow managed to alter the letter?

V in roman numerals is five - was he away for five days? But he had advised he would be back Sunday which was only four days away.

It struck me that the residences around Holmes' were rather old. This was not in fact a clue but was a sign created before they invented spelling. Drat! I shall return tomorrow to continue my investigation.

Friday April 10th 2015

Holmes' first clue: Nemo

Having had no further communications from Holmes despite my telegram to tell him that his house still existed, I set out to his home in search of further clues.

I concluded that there must be a mystery waiting to be solved, for without leaving me his keys, Holmes had basically asked me to go and look at his house. Why would he ask me to do that if there wasn't something for me to see there? And the use of the word "mind" in his telegram... surely that suggested he wanted me to use my mind to deduce something. But what?

Me puzzling until my puzzler was sore.

I stumbled upon a clue that Holmes had subtly left me which I had not noticed upon on my first visit. Perhaps I had previously been caught up in taking him at his word and I had literally just trying to check that "all is good."

The first clue I found was hidden in a little plant pot. A little clown fish. As any child will tell you, these are more commonly known as a Nemo, which is derived from from the popular moving picture, Finding Nemo. Aha! Holmes wanted me to find him! He was Nemo! I was onto something. But I needed more to go on.

Donning my cunning disguise, I waited to see if anything would happen. As it was a windy day, some leaves blew about but there was nothing suspicious.

I puzzled and puzzled and then I puzzled some more. I puzzled and puzzled 'til my puzzler was sore but sadly I made no progress in my investigation.

Instead of worrying about it, I went to the local public house to see if I could lubricate my brain in any way.

Saturday April 11th 2015

I lubricated my brain sufficiently, however my powers of deduction were unfortunately not increased. In fact, this morning, they appear to be slightly worsened. I can only conclude that this must be the effect of ageing, but at an unprecedented speed. Perhaps there was some mysterious toxins in the air which made anyone age rapidly. Perhaps Holmes had somehow been turned into an old man and was calling for help? Ah, no, wait. Alcohol gives you hangovers. I must remember that one in future.


I had set up a cunning trap the preceding day. I had a small blue skull to return to Holmes from a board game and so put this in an envelope addressed to him and put it through the door, however only pushing it through part of the way so that it was still possible to see it through the letterbox.

When I returned this morning, I discovered that my envelope was still hanging in the letterbox and thus there had been no one in to collect it and also no post this morning.

Had Holmes abandoned his house and diverted his post? This seemed like it might be the case. Otherwise, surely there would have been a barrage of communication requesting his assistance in cases, or at the very least, the paperboy would surely have delivered his copy of The Times.

I discovered a plate with Aladin, Jasmine and the genie on it. Was this a sign from Holmes? I wondered if he had been taken off on a magic carpet ride. Ah, magic carpets are but in the realm of fantasy. This could not have happened. He must instead be referring to the song - A Whole New World. The new world, as we know, is a term for America and Holmes had recently mentioned a desire to visit LA. Perhaps that is where he was? But why would he say he's in Ireland?

Then I recalled - Holmes had been exasperated that everyone hadn't realised he was in LA last week. So he has just returned from there, I deduced! This is a clue about where he has been, but what about where he currently is? I struggled with this conundrum but made no progress and instead went to get my eyes test.

Sunday April 12th 2015

Aha! I have solved Holmes' cunning riddle! He has gone to Ireland for the wedding of his sister! I deduced this because he told me it in the car the other day! It was all a cunning double bluff rouse. Holmes is such a cheeky scamp! Fortunately he is home, alive and well and back ready to solve crimes. He has confirmed to me that the wedding was "great" is as unimpressed as ever at my lack of detective skills.

I want the world, I want the whole world...

There is an advertising campaign on the tube at the moment which says  “Think 3
minutes is too long to wait? Try waiting 3 weeks for broadband!”

Before I started working in London, it always amused me that people would rush for the tube when another one is along so frequently.

The tube is a brilliant system. I like the fact that there are big announcements telling you exactly where you are so you know when to get off. I like how easy it is to get a connection. I like how frequently they arrive. I like how easy it is to find a tube station by just wandering around if you’re not sure where you are..

I’m also a big fan of the tube map. I love maps. I’m not sure why. I think it might be because I've got no sense of direction and therefore I like things that help me overcome that. I also like looking at them and all the exotic - and not so exotic – names of places I could visit, things I could see, things I could do.

Since Dan Light showed me that you can put a ‘transit’ option on Google Maps, I've become obsessed with looking at maps with the actual underground routes put on. It is interesting to compare the diagrammatic London Underground Map originally designed by Harry Beck with the actual layout of the tube lines. The standard map is so neat and structured yet when you look at where the actual lines run, it looks like a chaotic mess and you can start to appreciate what a work of art the map actually is.

Tube Map of London (left) compared to the actual layout of tubelines on Google Maps (right).

It’s not as much of a mess as the Paris metro which looks like a plate of multi-coloured spaghetti. I am confused by the New York system where basically all seems to run the same way and I struggle to see the benefit of having so many lines doing the same thing. I like the simplicity of the metro in Prague where three lines all intersect at just one point. Or the even simpler system in Athens where two lines cross over at two points. I think this is a hobby it will take me a while to tire of as there are 148 cities with metro systems for me to look at.

I fell in love with the tube map when we got a game called The London Game when we were little. I had no idea what any of these places were with exciting names such as Pimlico, Barbican and Knigtsbridge. I had no idea what these places we like, where they were, what you could do there (other than a few things on the cards in the game) but I fell in love with them and fell in love with the structure of the map and the ease of navigation.

Since working in London, I've come to realise that sometimes running for the tube can be useful. My trains back to Folkestone run every half an hour, so if I miss one I've got 29 minutes to spend loitering at St Pancras before I can get home to dinner/bed depending on the time of day.

So I've started to see why having to wait three minutes for another tube could be a bit frustrating at times. I struggle, though, to find much sympathy for people having to wait three weeks for a broadband connection. It is such a luxury item that I'm sure you can go without it for three weeks. When I moved into my flat it took 2 months for them to install my broadband. This was partly because the internet company refused to believe my flat didn't exist as it wasn't on the post office database. This confused me as the postman suffered no problems actually delivering my post.

I survived during this time. I spoke to humans rather than machines. I think we are too obsessed with connectivity these days. I include myself in this. I’ll often almost bump into someone in the street as I’m replying to a message which could probably have waited the 10 minutes until I get to my destination to reply to. We don't need to be always connected, always on. I've started turning my phone off for periods of the day just so that I can ensure I'm not picking up my phone every 20 seconds and can therefore focus on what I'm actually doing or enjoy the moment knowing I'm not going to be interrupted.

Our modern society is also so obsessed with having stuff now - which the internet is partly to blame for, I think. You can now get pretty much any entertainment you want - music, films, books, computer games, delivered to you instantaneously. And anything you can't get straight away, you can get delivered pretty quickly.

I love the internet. It lets me watch House of Cards, and I'm all for technological progress but I'm sure anyone can do without a broadband connection for 3 weeks, especially when everyone has a small box that can be used to summon the elders of the internet to provide you with information if there is something you really need.

Some people have been waiting thousands of years for clean water. It is often far too easy to lose perspective. You can deal without broadband for a short while.

There's a special layer of hell reserved for Clarkson

The most shocking thing to me about Jeremy Clarkson's suspension is that he is even still a thing.

Each day at lunch, I sit in the staff room reading Four Four Two whilst one of my colleagues watches repeats of Top Gear on Dave. This is annoying but a vast improvement on the Vernon Kaye fronted Celebrity Family Fortunes with some of the worst joke writing ever known to mankind.

So as I lunch, I am "treated" to a large number of Clarkson's "witticisms." The fact that the Metro was able to come up with a list of the top 10 gaffe's that he has made which barely scrapes the surface of his bigotry should give an idea to anyone who isn't completely familiar with him just what a massive twazzock he actually is.

It is 2015. It astounds me that there is such a bigoted presenter being given £8.4 million of licence payers money (around 0.25% of all fees collected) to basically offend everyone in the entire universe under the guise of being funny. I'm amazed even more that people still find it funny. But then I guess I'm a liberal with too much faith in people who likes to think no-one fines bigoted humour funny any more. I wonder if he realises that in this day and ages, it's actually possible to be funny without offending people.

I used to watch Top Gear. I liked the challenges they do. This is the entertaining part of the show to me. I really don't care about cars (I actually got rid of mine in August and have felt liberated since doing so, but that's a different story).

However, I gave up watching the show around 7 or 8 years ago because I could no longer deal with Clarkson any more. Which is a bit of a shame as I actually quite like Hammond and May as presenters.

I have seen petitions to have the overgrown hobbit reinstated. No only are they generally poorly written but a number of them are supported by the same people who have vilified footballers such as John Terry and Luis Suarez for racist behaviour previously.

It seems to me (and I am not saying that I am not guilty of this myself) that people will - at least up to a point - support transgressions of individuals that entertain them so that they can continue to be entertained.

This lack of objectivity is something that perhaps we all - myself included - need to be aware of when making judgments on celebrities.

For me, however, Clarkson being suspended is not enough. The Sixth Circle of Hell would be a more fitting punishment.

I hope the BBC gets rid of the knobchunk nice and quickly and spend the money saved on making something at a similar intellectual level, such as In The Night Garden.





"Jeremy Clarkson has three daughters, and I hope they all go blind. Not one of them, in one eye - all of them, in all their eyes! Come on! It's just a joke, like on Top Gear!" - Stewart Lee

Bucket List Item 38: Watch Matilda the Musical

I love Roald Dahl. I may have mentioned it once or twice in passing.

I also love Tim Minchin. He shares a similar world view to me, is an amazing musician and makes me chuckle. Sometimes I think he is far too intelligent. For example, I saw him once do a philosophical joke. I studied philosophy at uni for three years (admittedly I've forgotten most of it now) and the joke went over my head.

When I heard that he'd written a musical based on Matilda I got excited. It was a bit like that time when Ben Folds and Nick Hornby collaborated. A mixture of a musician I like and an author I like gets me excited. These two art forms don't generally cross over much.

I suggested to my girlfriend Jo that instead of getting each other a physical present, we arrange a day out for each other. Shortly after I suggested that, I started hoping that she remembered watching Matilda was on my bucket list. When we told each other what we had planned, and she revealed she'd got us tickets, I had a big grin on my face!

In fact, last week, I actually watched two musicals based on Dahl's work. Our staff conference at work involved us going to see Charlie and the Chocolate Factory at Drury Lane which was extremely enjoyable.

Whilst the Hornby/Folds album is good, and Charlie is great, the mixture of Minchin and Dahl blows both of them out of the water.

I'd heard lots of good things about Matilda from people who had been but I was still not prepared for how great it was and how the songs would be stuck in my head for the next few days.

The characters - especially the grown ups - are brilliant characatures that match the Quintin Blake illustrations from the book. I hadn't seen the posters outside the Cambridge Theatre so I didn't realise that Miss Trunchbull was played by a man and definitely let out a giggle when the reveal happened. Although to be honest, I was giggling throughout.

It was also very faithful to the source material and the parts where it diverged fitted in so well that you almost forget that they've been added.

I'm struggling to go on without adding any more spoilers. However, I urge you to go see it if you have any interest in Dahl, Minchin, musicals, theatre or laughing as it is quite simply the best show I've seen.

Review: Left Behind by Tim LaHaye and Jerry B Jenkins

Both Emily Bronte and my former English teacher will probably be please to discover that I have a new least favourite book.

I'm not sure exactly how this got on to my Kindle. It is possible that Satan himself put it there.

Either that, or I read the synopsis on Amazon which is actually quite intriguing:

"After millions of people around the world vanish in one moment, in what many claim to be the Rapture, Rayford Steele begins a search for the truth amidst global chaos."

The Walking Dead is brilliant because it takes the zombie apocalypse and deals with how people cope afterwards. The premise of this book, as stated above is that a large number of people just instantly vanish. Poof. Gone. How are those left behind going to deal with it? It's a neat concept, right?

However, this book cannot live up to that in any way, shape or form. It is apparently only 256 pages long. It felt more like 256,000. It took me forever to plow my way through this pile of dirge.

I have a problem with leaving things uncompleted. I realised by at least a quarter of the way in that I didn't like it but forced myself to finish it just in case it redeemed itself.

Not only that, but apparently there are another 12 books in this series. I have no idea how they can stretch it out to that and have absolutely no desire to find out.

Why didn't I like it? It is just really poorly written. Where there is dialogue it is bland, uninteresting and it is very difficult to distinguish any different tone of voice between the characters.

The plot itself drags its feet. It suffers from the religious context which it feels the need to explain over and over and over. It then spends large sections of the book explaining to the read why Ray - the main character - decides to convert to Christianity. It does it in such a preachy way that it is obviously intended to convert the read. I'm an atheist, but whilst I have no problem with a religious context in a story, this basically feels even more like propaganda than the leaflets Jehovah's Witnesses leave with you when you tell them to go away.

The characters really have very little personality. They are very shallow (in the way that they are written, rather than in their actual personality). Where there are hints of something interesting - the lead character having conflicting feelings about flirting with a woman other than his wife - they are very brief and killed off quickly. They are extremely one dimensional and have no internal conflict to make their stories any better.

They also have instantaneous changes of heart or opinion. Immediately after the disappearance, Ray basically says: "oh, it must be the rapture that my wife was talking about. I'd best repent." When one character falls for another, it's within about 3 minutes of meeting her.

They have made a film version of this and have cast my least favourite actor, Nicholas Cage, in the lead role. Apt for what is my least favourite book.

I would have given this zero stars on Goodreads if that was actually possible. I urge anyone not to waste their time reading this book.

Yo, Adrian! I love you!

Last night was a particularly stressful experience. I have written before about how I support West Ham. It's not a particularly rewarding past time. In my lifetime, we have won 5 trophies:

* The FA Cup - when I was not even 1 year old. I don't remember that one.
* the Inter-Toto Cup - which as everyone knows is the only European trophy worth winning
* the Championship Playoffs twice. I'm counting it, even if it's not a real victory and the trophy is only 10 centimeters tall
* The Cuitat de Barcelona trophy in 2013. A two team tournament that I didn't even know we'd won.

As you can see, it's not as rewarding trophy wise as supporting Man Utd, Chelsea, Arsenal or even
Liverpool.

So when we do have great victories, they mean a lot more. And I think that makes the years of everyone telling you how they like it when you do well and that you're their second team a bit more bearable.

Last night was torture though. Me and some colleagues had considered going to see our game against Everton. I'm glad it didn't happen. I struggled to deal with the emotions at home. Had we been at the ground, I think I might have actually had a heart attack.

A quick summary of the game: West Ham go 1-0, Everton have a player sent off and still manage to equalise, taking the game to extra time (and past my bed time). Everton take the lead in extra time only for Carlton Cole who is worth his weight in gold to come on as a substitute and score with his first touch a minute later which prompted the game to go to a penalty shoot out.

A penalty shoot out that I had to watch through my fingers as the tension at this point was unbearable.

No-one wants to be a goalkeeper. It's the job of the least popular kid in school to take this role. Everyone wants to be a striker, and I remember games at school where you would often have games with absolutely no defenders as everyone wanted the glory.

Even West Ham's current goalkeeper, Adrian, wanted to be a striker. It wasn't to be and now he makes a living as a goalkeeper. A thankless task, really. As he tweeted the day before the game, great goalkeepers never with the Ballon d'Or. They never win a golden boot, just get a golden glove that everyone forgets about. They rarely get any real recognition.

That's why I was so pleased when at the end of an epic penalty shoot-out, with the scores at 8-8, Adrian - who is my new favourite player because of this - got to be the hero. 

And in such a cool way. The confidence he had to take off his gloves during his run up to take the penalty - the psychological effect it must have had on his opposite number Robles who had just missed his penalty - saying "I'm not going to need these any more, the game is over" - was awesome. He was cool as anything, and it just exuded confidence to do it during his run up. 

It was the best thing I've seen in a long time, and he deserved his moment sliding on his knees towards the fans. The moment of glory that goalkeepers rarely get. 

He gets my vote for Hammer of the Year. I'm calling it now.

Everything Is Awesome

When I was in primary school, my parents came home one day with a big orange box. The box had about a million pieces of Lego in it. I think they had bought it from parents of a child who had grown out of it and it contained a wide variety of random pieces. This was back in the days when if you bought Lego, you just bought a selection of bricks rather than the packages you get these days of Hogwarts or a pirate ship.

I can't remember if I was very excited, but in retrospect I really should have been. That one box of Lego provided me with many hours of fun throughout my childhood, attempting to create many different things out of what was available.

I was slightly OCD, however, and everything had to be the same colour. I couldn't have a house with mostly red bricks and a few random other colours to make up the numbers. That annoyed me and if I was playing with other children, I would secretly rip apart anything they'd made which didn't conform to my monocolour brick rules and rebuild it appropriately.

The orange box disappeared one day. I am assuming that when my parents thought I had grown out of Lego, they sold it onto the parents of another family who I hope enjoyed it as much as I did. I'm not sure you can ever actually grow out of Lego.

Recently, my life has converged around a few Lego-based things and I started thinking about all the things I used to make.

My cousin sold me his copy of Lego Marvel Superheroes on the Playstation 4. I'm fairly sure it is the first and currently only game that I have fully completed. 100%. Platinum medal. All of that jazz. I'd previously played some of Lego Star Wars, although I didn't get into as much. Possibly because superheroes are much cooler than lightsabers, no matter what anyone says.

The humour of the game, and of the TV shows (I have only watched one, so I am assuming it runs throughout the other ones) is simple, childish... but still brilliant. It draws you into it's universe and reminds you of a simpler time when all that mattered was making sure that all your buildings were made of the same colour bricks. Well, that's what it reminds me of anyway.

Shortly after completing the game, Lovefilm sent me the Lego Movie which I got around to watching the best part of a year after everyone else. I was worried that I would be disappointed after everyone had told me how amazing it is. I was not disappointed. The main part of the film is brilliant and then the metaphysical ending where it turns out Will Ferrell is actually a real life human being rather than a Lego overlord was unexpected but perfect.

I started working in London a couple of months ago and have been using my holiday to take half days and do touristy things. There is currently an exhibition of Lego art called the Art of Brick  which, aptly enough, it is in Brick Lane. When I heard about this, I decided to treat myself to a visit as a birthday present to myself.

The exhibition is all work from an American man named Nathan Sawaya who quit his job as a lawyer to make Lego art. As a job. That is so incredibly cool and inspiring. I kind of want to be him. Especially after you watch some of the videos at the exhibition and realise he is actually a very lovely chap.

I highly recommend this exhibition - it is on until April 2015 and costs about £15 but is worth every penny. I've included a couple of photos to give you an idea of the artwork on display. The first couple of rooms feature replicas of other artworks which are cool, but it is not until you get into the rooms where he has created original pieces that you start to see how amazing his work is.

After all of this recent Lego based excitement, I have obviously bought my niece some Duplo for Christmas. Well, I say it's for my niece....