Monday, 22 December 2008


BBC One Session: Duffy
Ah, accidental viewing! Her music is pleasant enough, but I'm not going to be rushing off to buy it. Originally shown in October, so features the first performance of her Bond theme-esque last single, Rain On Your Parade.

The Graham Norton Show
4x12 (18/12/08 edition, uncut repeat)
Hurrah for comedian guests helping make things funny! Less joy to be had from stupidly dressed Big Brother presenters however.

6x02 Fire & Freezing [Christmas special]
Series "F" follows in January, also on BBC One.

Russell Brand's Ponderland
2x06 Christmas [Christmas special]


BBC Drama announces Sherlock, a new crime drama for BBC One
(from BBC Press Office)
Steven Moffat and Mark Gatiss co-writing/creating a modern day take on Sherlock Holmes, starring Benedict Cumberbatch as Holmes and Martin Freeman as Watson? Best. Thing. Ever.

SPOILER FREE REVIEW! Doctor Who The Next Doctor by Dave Golder
(from SFX)
Sounds good to me!

Poem of the Day: The Burning Babe

by Robert Southwell

Obviously it's Christmas week, so I'm sure you're expecting no less than five Christmas-themed poems from Poem of the Day. So here's the first of them:

As I in hoary winter's night stood shivering in the snow,
Surprised I was with sudden heat which made my heart to glow;
And lifting up a fearful eye to view what fire was near,
A pretty babe all burning bright did in the air appear;
Who, though scorched with excessive heat, such floods of tears did shed,
As though his floods should quench his flames, which with his tears were fed.
"Alas," quoth he, "but newly born, in fiery heats I fry,
Yet none approach to warm their hearts, or feel my fire but I!
My faultless breast the furnace is, the fuel wounding thorns,
Love is the fire, and sighs the smoke, the ashes shame and scorns;
The fuel justice layeth on, and mercy blows the coals,
The metal in this furnace wrought are men's defiled souls,
For which, as now on fire I am to work them to their good,
So will I melt into a bath to wash them in my blood."
With this he vanished out of sight and swiftly shrunk away,
And straight I called unto mind that it was Christmas Day.

I tried to find a decent modern Christmas poem online and failed (most were about how great Christianity is and/or how bad atheism is), so I chose this distinctly odd one instead. Incidentally, talking of Christians, the author was a 16th Century saint who was hung, drawn and quartered as a traitor. This piece was first published posthumously in 1595.