Sick and Tired: A Cardigan State of Mind

I am ill. I went to Glastonbury and put my fingers in places where they didn't belong (hey, I'm talking about food and mud and my mouth here, not that ewww thing you're instantly thinking of).

A Times article was written to commemorate the choke-a-thon of the previous Saturday. Here it is, entitled Your Starter for £200,000. The headline in itself makes me want to cry. But maybe that is also down to the brutal and emotionalised state I have fallen into since the end of the sludge mudfest that was Glastonbury 2007. You could see exactly, with pics an' all, how the greatest musical festival on earth panned out on me Facebook page, if you can find it.

Below I have posted the two unedited versions of TPQ final article I filed which illustrate the brilliant artistry of subeditry. Spot the differences. And don't win a prize. But see how the real professionals deal with the bloated junk their writers give them. A swish, a cut and an axe-chop and everything looks and reads so much better. For that I thank them.

And yes, the Behemoth is ready to almost go, having been tested on Pat Gibson, Ken Jennings, Chris Jones and Steven DeCeuster. I only have to write a witty intro before I start promoting it in all manner of places. But I have to warn you: IT IS THE GREATEST QUIZ WRITTEN IN THE HISTORY OF MANKIND. That could be an exaggeration, but why deprive yourself of finding out whether it is true or not.

1066 version
It started with a passing remark. A quiz league team-mate mentioned a new TV quiz called The People's Quiz. "So are you going to do it?" he asked. Truth be told I ignored most contestant calls because I, like many other "professionals" of similar standing, are routinely not selected for shows because we would make the programme a one-sided slaughter. Apparently.

But The People's Quiz seemed like a different beast. A kind of "X-Factor for quizzers", it purported to be a search for Britain's
brightest brain, whom it would reward with a cash prize of £200,700. Everything seemed above board, meaning if I played the game right there was no reason why I would be weeded out of the selection process.

It began in late January with nation-wide open auditions while the grand final would take place in June. In-between we would have a telephone round of 20-questions, a weekend "quiz boot camp" at Pinewood Studios and eight studio shows to decide the finalists. Add to this the numerous interviews, which would provide the colour and emotional ballast, and it was an epic journey designed to test your patience, if not completely destroy it.

My first face-to-face encounter with the show's figureheads came at Pinewood. Jamie Theakston, in his roaming presenter's role, was friendly and laddish and tall enough to make me feel like a hobbit. Meanwhile, there was no time for pleasantries with the anointed "Quiz Gods" - Myleene Klass, William G Stewart and Kate Garraway - who immediately started chucking questions at me for the two-minute marathon, the best scorers in this particular section making it to the BBC studios.

GMTV's Kate Garraway took the Simon Cowell role and it was all too clear that she was not RADA-trained. Her attempt to act, first saying how we hadn't done as well as expected with the face of a bulldog sucking on nettles, pausing silently for one minute and then exploding with joy on saying we had performed "much better!", was something to behold. It was worthy of Acorn Antiques.

Myleene was the optimistic one dishing out nuggets of consolatory hope. The Paula Abdul of the panel. We soon saw her increasingly newsworthy bump swell over time. Eating enough snacks to sate a boy scout troop, she claimed her three dietary staples were "chocolate, cheese and chips."

As I expected, William G Stewart acted as a kind of quizzing granddad to me. I was slightly perturbed by his calling me "that boy" and "son", but what did I expect? Years before I had shone for a short time on his baby Fifteen-to-One, and still in my twenties I had now emerged as his stated favourite to win. No pressure then.

I was feeling the weight of expectation despite all the focus on my arch-rival Mark Labbett. The whole nation was united in outrage at what were actually statements of quiz realpolitik not unbelievably arrogant declarations about how rubbish everyone else was.

Mark was not above making brilliantly outlandish claims about our own TV relationship. For instance, I was "Luke Skywalker" and he was "Darth Vader". But it was no worse than the descriptions the panel produced with regards to myself. I was the postman "because I always delivered", "Olav the Terrible", and, ugh, "cute and cuddly". This was the last remnant of the X-Factor element, which had gradually withered away to nothing over the course of the run, but it was still the most mortifying part of the show.

After Pinewood, 24 contestants got their chance in the studio. The first such programme was the undiscovered country. No one knew what to expect. We had eight chances to make it through to the grand final; the winner progressing and their final round opponent departing the competition forever, with two new contestants coming in to replace them every show.

But, to my great surprise, I found myself steaming through. Sometimes it is better when you have no time to think. Having made it through the "Only the Strong Will Survive" round, I built up the biggest "Brain Chain" of 11 (the most saved consecutive answers) and, before I knew it, was in the Do or Die round.

Now I was required to choose an opponent. And maybe I wouldn't have selected Amanda if I knew the experience was going to be so traumatic. She started breaking down in tears before the first question was even asked. She did so twice more. I interrupted incorrectly on the first question "Christiano Ronaldo plays for ..." by saying Manchester United when it went on to ask for his nationality, knowing it was a 50/50 chance.

Amanda plumped for England. Everyone gasped in horror. Everyone knew it was Portugal. It was then that I knew it wasn't going to be Amanda's night. The feeling of overwhelming discomfort was further intensified by my noticing her wheelchair bound mother in the audience.

Winning the round 6-0 utterly skipped my mind as I went over to Amanda and said something into her ear. Little did I know that I had createda moment of intrigue as mysterious as the climax of Lost in Translation when Bill Murray whispers words to Scarlett Johansson that the viewer never hears. To this day, and despite dozens of requests, I have refused to reveal what I said. But let's just say it was not along the lines of "In your face!" or "How do you like them apples?"

At the end, having destroyed Amanda's dream of helping out her dear mum, I said I felt slightly sick. This feeling was soon replaced, however, by the terrifying knowledge that this would be a cakewalk compared to the tension-filled final when the prospect of prize money would make people behave in very silly ways.

Tonight sees that endgame. Each show winner, along with the BBC2 Wild Card Show series champion, returns to the trenches. I have done some revision, as all quiz show veterans do (even if they will not admit it). Preparation has mostly consisted of perusing the 50,000 questions from the official website. And, of course, Sod's Law dictates that not one of them will come up.

I will either receive the £200,700 cheque with a smile as big as BBC TV Centre or be a choked-up nervous wreck ruing what could have been. But whatever happens, I can guarantee one thing: it's going to be emotional.

1446 version
It started with a passing remark. Things like this always do. A quiz league team-mate mentioned a new TV quiz called The People's Quiz. "So are you going to do it?" he asked. I simply didn't know. Truth be told I ignored most contestant calls on account of not being selected for dozens of shows. Why? Because I, like many other "professionals" of similar standing, would make other contestants look silly and the programme a one-sided slaughter.

But The People's Quiz looked like a different beast. It purported to be a search for Britain's brightest brain, whom it would reward with a big fat cash prize of £200,700. Everything seemed above board, meaning if I played the game right there was no reason why I would be weeded out of the selection process. And it was only too apparent what kind of angle they were going for when I arrived at the open London audition. This was going to be "X-Factor for quizzers."

The aim at this juncture was to answer ten questions in a row correctly on camera. Unfortunately, I hit an immediate road bump. At question eight my knowledge of dodgy 80s TV sagas let me down - I couldn't identify The Thorn Birds from a plot synopsis. Perhaps, I was already disturbed by the question master who had said: "Oh, I remember you Olav. You were much younger then", but unlike hundreds of others, I decided to stay and give it another go and got the ten answers. Fourteen hours after I had rocked up at the Islington venue I departed thoroughly bemused, exhausted and relieved at getting through.

Just how much of an epic, arduous journey this would be became clear soon enough. We began in late January and the grand final would take place in June. In-between we would have a telephone round of 20-questions, a weekend "quiz boot camp" at Pinewood Studios and a series of eight studio shows, before the finale. Add to this the numerous interviews, which would provide the colour and emotional ballast, and the schedule was a marathon designed to test your patience, if not push it beyond all reasonable limits.

My first face-to-face encounter with the show's figureheads came at Pinewood. Jamie Theakston, in his roaming presenter's role, was friendly and laddish and tall enough to make me feel like a hobbit. Meanwhile there was no time for pleasantries with the anointed "Quiz Gods" - Myleene Klass, William G Stewart and Kate Garraway - who immediately started chucking questions at me for the two-minute marathon, which would decide who would make it to the studio.

Kate Garraway played the Simon Cowell role and it was all too apparent that she had not trained at RADA. Her attempt to act, first saying how we hadn't done as well as expected with the face of a bulldog sucking on nettles, pausing silently for one minute and then exploding with joy on saying we had performed "much better!", was something to behold. It was Acorn Antiques worthy thespianism.

As for Myleene? She was the bright, optimistic one dishing out nuggets of consolatory hope to the contestants. The Paula Abdul of the panel. We soon saw her increasingly newsworthy bump swell over time and her eat enough snacks to sate a boy scout troop. She claimed her three dietary staples were "chocolate, cheese and chips."

Call it a blessing or a curse, but William G Stewart was a kind of quizzing granddad. I was slightly perturbed by his constantly calling me "that boy" and "son", but what did I expect? Many years before I had shone for a short time on Fifteen-to-One, and still in my twenties I had now emerged as his favourite to win. I know this because apparently someone's babysitter had mentioned that he had been on the National Lottery draw one Saturday and was asked to name his winner. He said my name without hesitation. Gulp. No pressure then.

I was feeling the pressure despite all the focus on my arch-rival Mark Labbett. While the worst thing written about me anywhere was an web forum poster claiming I was "that asian guy who ... obviously has no friends or social life and lives in the library", the whole nation seemed to be united in outrage at what were actually statements of quiz realpolitik not unbelievably arrogant declarations.

Mark was not above making other brilliantly outlandish claims about the show's make-up. I was "Luke Skywalker" and he was "Darth Vader". He was the "gunslinger" (he was faster on the buzzer) and I was the "sniper" (I got everything in the end). I could listen to him spout this wonderful rubbish all day.

After Pinewood, 24 contestants made it through to the studio shows. The first such programme was the undiscovered country. No one knew what to expect. We had eight chances to make it through to the grand final - the winner progressing and their final round opponent departing the competition forever, with two new contestants coming in to replace them every show.

Yet, to my great surprise, I found myself steaming through. Sometimes it is better when you have no time to think. Having made it through the "Only the Strong Will Survive" round, I built up the biggest "Brain Chain" of 11 (the most saved consecutive answers) and, before I knew it, was in the Do or Die round.

And now I was required to choose an opponent. We could pick any of the other contestants and I selected Amanda because, put quite brutally, I thought she would be the easiest to beat.

But maybe I wouldn't have if I knew it was going to be so traumatic. Amanda started breaking down in tears before the first question was even asked. She did so twice more. Going for a 50/50 chance, I then interrupted incorrectly on the first question "Christiano Ronaldo plays for ..." by saying Manchester United, when it asked for his nationality.

Given a chance to steal a march on me, Amanda plumped for England. Everyone gasped in horror. Everyone knew it was Portugal. It was then that I knew it wasn't going to be Amanda's night. The feeling of overwhelming discomfort was further intensified by my noticing her wheelchair bound mother in the audience. Winning the round 6-0 utterly skipped my mind as I went over to Amanda and whispered in her ear. Little did I know that I had created a moment of intrigue as mysterious as whatever Bill Murray said to Scarlett Johansson at the climax of Lost in Translation. To this day, and despite dozens of requests, I have refused to reveal what I said. Let's just say it was not along the lines of "In your face!" or "How do you like them apples?"

And when I was interviewed at the end, having apparently smashed Amanda's dream of helping out her dear mum, I said I felt "sick as a dog". This emotion was soon replaced, however, by the terrifying knowledge that this would be a cakewalk compared to the tension-filled grand final when the prospect of prize money would make people behave in very silly ways.

Tonight sees that very endgame. Each show winner, along with the BBC2 Wild Card Show series champion, will return to the trenches. I have done some revision, as all quiz show veterans do (even if they will not admit it). Preparation has mostly consisted of browsing the questions put on the official website. The programme makers claim 200,700 questions were written for the show, although barely a quarter was ever released to the public. However, 54,000 is quite enough to occupy anyone's time and liable to drive anyone who reads them for more than an hour little bit mad, if not make their eyes pop out through sheer monotony. And, of course, the likelihood is that not one of them will come up. Sod's Law is a given in such situation.

After all that has been said and done, I will miss the spirit of contestant camaraderie and the runners and researchers who made the experience all the more bearable; I will not miss the green room junk food (great if you love pasties and Haribo), the tedious filming schedule or production staff telling me to say things like "My reputation is at stake. I must win!" for their VT interviews (I refused point blank to say many of their pre-written soundbites).

I will either receive the £200,700 cheque with a smile as big as BBC TV Centre or be a choked-up nervous wreck ruing what could have been. Whatever happens, I can safely say, it's going to be emotional.

The pre-Glastonbury Wordage Glut: Opinion, Intimations and Other Reflections in Anticipation Ahead of Saturday's People's Quiz Grand Final

Part I: The Professional ... was the US title for which Jean Reno film?

Wilt Chamberlain: "No one roots for Goliath".

But then again, he didn't really take any notice of any antipathy or resentment towards him, not when he was smashing scoring records on a regular basis and taxing acres of female booty. He didn't give a hoot. He was Wilt Freakin' Chamberlain: The Ass-Master. Not being a basketball legend, I must admit I'm a sensitive soul. Kinda. I was told that if a "pro" such as myself won the People's Quiz it would besmirch the very ethos of the competition, which I thought was to find "Britain's brightest brain". But why the "pro" status? From whence did it stem? Apparently, it was mainly because I happened to write, um, 60 questions for my paymasters every two and a half weeks, and therefore had a huge advantage over other contestants who had normal jobs. That, by the way, is an average of four questions a day. A mighty tally indeed.

I'm not miffed, miffled nor irate. Rather verging on the incredulous. The time is past for regrets. But not the time for trying to change people's preconceptions about chaps such as I. I am of the mind to ask where are "professionals" meant to play then? Our opportunities to appear on quizzes are limited as it is; getting blown out even before the audition stages by punk-assed TV researchers is a tragi-comic way of life for me now. So I ask myself and the world at large, are we meant to be pushed off to the Mastermind and Brain of Britain brainiac ghetto to be left stewing in our own radiant genius?

People think quiz-writers have an head start because they happen to carefully pick trivia tidbits from the teeming knowledge ether and this instantly puts them in a position of control and all-knowingness. They must have all the facts at their command.

Pardon my French, but this is bollocks. Sixty quiz questions every few weeks is nothing. I know people who write 300 questions every day. Seriously. My problem is that my trivia teasers/torturers are published in a section of the widely disseminated media on a regular basis, thus instilling some kind of weird "he is too powerful" prejudice in people should they find out that I wish to come down from my setting-throne to come compete against the lowly people who usually answer them. It's as if they think I have all the answers, and why should they bother? The truth is, I don't. I mean, not enough of them to ensure a crushing triumph. But answer me this: off the top of your head can you name any memorable quiz champion whose sole occupation at the time of their winning a prestigious TV or radio series has been as a professional quiz question writer? Struggling aren't you (as am I ... was BoB/FTO champ David Stedman one such person

But I mean, watch TPQ GF ferchrissakes! Anything can happen when winning depends on as small as matter as four questions. Quiz writers do have a nominal head start (the the time to research more than anything else), though this is negated if the show you are applying for is totally out-of-sync with the stuff you predominantly set.

Admittedly, I write loads of questions for the blog, but 97 per cent are "World knowledge" focussed and the chances of questions on Mongolian throat-singing or Swiss theologian Karl Barth ever coming up on a BBC1 prime time quiz show are as likely as the said Corporation deciding to pack their Saturday night schedule with a cerebral-smutty mixture of Girls Gone Wild: Spring Break and Claude Lanzmann's Holocaust epic Shoah.

The TPQ experience would be, as I envisaged from the start all those months ago (was it back in 1998 that we started on this show?) and repeated in unaired interviews (bastards), like being shuttled from competing on glistening grass pitches against the finest, world-class Champions' League opponents to a Sunday League mudbath where the quality of play is hampered by my being clogged to death by two-footed challenges; a horrendous playing surface pockmarked with holes a badger would disappear down; and a ball as dead as the eyes of Paris Hilton.

Therefore, on TPQ it was far more of a level playing field for everyone, really; my favourite status was greatly exaggerated. Admittedly, I had a better chance than most, I probably knew more GK than anybody else on the show (not that I was able to produce it at the crucial time), but still, when we were basically working with four lives from the start, the potential for a horrendous fall was always far greater than easy passage through the GF rounds. The percentages played out as I believed they would in the end, which is why I never said I would win it. My slack buzzer technique was exposed. Too late, too sluggish.

Truth is, my trivia-related earnings are practically negligible. I get decent pay for the weekday questions, then nothing more in the quiz-professional realm. I have to remind people that I have won a princely TV quiz sum of £50 from three cash-prize shows (that is NOT professional status money, no, sir). The winning total remains at fifty squids and now I fear a form of camera-induced pressure choke has taken hold for all time, despite the four years break from the TV arena (looking back I can recall similar horrible self-immolationary performances in key sections of the said quiz shows, e.g. One-to-Win).

Sometimes, I think a "professional quizzer" is someone who is considered just too good and dedicated to the craft (or whatever bollocksy name I can attach to it) by TV production staff, viewers and opposing poor Jo Schmos, who recognised these ruthless coves kicking arse in other programmes, to compete against the masses of work-a-day contestants who send in the vast majority of show applications. It's not actually about the avaricious accumulation of prize money; it's about how seriously you take it.

When it comes to the cheap and lovely entertainment that be quiz, seriousness and hard work in the self-improvement department is frowned upon by practically everyone in this country who hardly know anything about the trivia world. Though, I'm not even so sure how seriously I do take it when I step up to the plate and do the thing on TV or even sit around chain-smoking in quiz league matches. I take it casual like: always smiling like an innocent, oblivious gimp-patsy. Or am I crying on the inside? Or is that internal bleeding? Hmmm.

I know my "Goliath-pro" status comes from an over-16 life spent doing quizzes sporadically, whilst yielding to the undeniable urge to write down questions because they helped cement the facts in my brain. To a certain extent. Then I started doing non-televised tournaments, sick of being rejected by such craphouses as 100% when I was only 20-years-old, because the BQC, WQC and EQC championships offered the best and fairest and possibly most enjoyable outlet in which I could compete against like-minded peers. It felt sooo comfortable. Fitted like a glove. In a way it felt like home almost straight away, especially when I found similarly aged brethren to indulge the curious silliness that lived in each of us and urged us to speak in glowing terms of trivia-fact volumes we had dug up from the darkest corners of secondhand bookshops.

Top 5 positions in GPs have became a pleasing bonus in recent years. It was easy to set into this groove, especially when you find out you feel you have something in common with other people so massive and all-encompassing that it forms an instantaneous bond. One good, overriding thing about this mild form of autism: there are always endless topics for conversation. Well, not so much conversation, more like a blockbuster tennis rally of facts and exposing of others' weak spots and mighty strengths. It does pass the time, you know.

My life isn't 24/7 quiz (ho ho, you say in disbelief). But it could be. I am so-so at the machines and can't be bothered to master them. I do only one pub quiz at the same establishment on average once every three weeks. I do one in every two events on the Quizzing circuit. I play in 3/4 of my quiz league games and never ever swot for those matches - wassa point? Hardly a packed schedule filled with lucre-ridden opportunities. More a pleasant, stimulating hobby that gets me out of my bed. Free pub drinks, yes; who can resist The George beer vouchers, but as for everything else, absolutely no big score chances. If that's rock solid proof of quiz professionalism I am Errol Flynn's decomposed ding-dong.

But having laughed at The Omen music ("They feared Olav because he was the son of Satan!!! The devil may have all the best tunes, but this fella has all the crucial quiz knowledge!") that accompanied my first real appearance on TPQ and found the Steph-beating-me stitch-up bloody hilarious too, I felt quite queasy that despite being the second youngest person by a marked number of years in the TPQ final I was built up, nay hyper-inflated into this super-duper Hot Favourite who would murderlise the opposition with consummate ease. Never mind that I always feared the buzzers (the evil contraptions that did for me on crucial sections of UC, One-to-Win, Number One and the FTO Grand Final final), especially when they shortened the two-minutes to 90 seconds in the first Strongest will Survive round, thus ensuring that loads of people would be up for the crucial buzzer question. Plus - and yes, the excuses are going to keep on coming - my right ear had popped. Everything I came out with sounded like I was underwater during the first round. What did I think sounded like to everyone? Oh, a drowning weirdo. I could have worked the old Stevie Smith pun in there, because it was true.

I knew that I had to anticipate better because if I had even buzzed in after five words I could have worked out the answer, but I didn't due to my annoying knack of having this in-built fatal one-second delay that the anticipatory intentions couldn't override. I really do think too much. Too many phantom options; no recourse to instinct.

"Small message service" was a sloppy mistake, and one I knew I was all too capable and afraid of doing since it was exactly one of those silly trivia niggles I have: "Short or small". Stuck in the grey zone of my GK, the similarity did me in. My major weakness on many questions are words and names that sound like each other, but whose even careful pronunciation cannot conceal the wrong option. I'm talking about the Ernest Bevin and Aneurin Bevan confusion. It cost me dear in a Brain of London heat. They spent a few moments clarifying that too.

I would say more about the the Tour de France, Wicked! and My Beautiful Game. But I will save the last particular niggle, and it is heee-yoooge, until later. I don't want to give away the ending, do I?

Part II: coming soon

BH116: Back to Business of Sorts

Escape to LA
I went home - down LA way - to do some work (work you may very well appreciate in the future) in a smoky, well-fed environment where the internet was but a dream and I had my much-missed double bed on which I created imaginary snow angels, whilst regularly checking in on my dad and helping him out by keeping a constant supply of cups of tea, Dairy Milk and Richmond Super Kings piped into his room.

Monday Mong-Out
I seem to have accidentally watched The Swarm. It just materialised before me and there was nothing I could do. The last time I saw it was in 1986. Being a wee laddie, it terrified me and thus imbued every lovely little honey-maker with an aura of homicidal menace. Yeah, this time round I expected it to be absolutely pants and yes, it was as past-it pants as that acquitted judge's black Calvin Klein Y-fronts. One very amusing thing was seeing and hearing people die in screaming agony over the radio and other audio communication devices: "Oh my god! There are loads of bees! AAARRGHHH! OORRHH!" That so funny. It really was.

I must admit, however: Michael Caine is a top ho diamond geezer for being so horrendously dismal but still somehow keeping himself rigid with admirable sincerity and throwing up the illusion of unnerving self-belief in the utter cack that kept shooting from his mouth. Shrieking lines about how the bees, oh so ironically, are turning from fluffy friends making good on a thriving, thousands of years old cottage industry into an airborne army of inescapable killing machines, (when the General guy played by Richard Widmark, who had the first name "Thalius" for some odd reason ... maybe he was named after an ancient prophylactic or something, kept on calling the apiarimenace "Africans" all the time, I have to say it did sound like some sort of racist code). All absolutely hilarious. And then Mr Micklewhite piling po-faced declarations upon poo-filled exclamation s: e.g. "Who would have thought that bees would form the first alien force to invade America?" , thus making him sound as if he had found a realm of divine idiocy beyond the place marked highly retarded. Hey. Wait a sec. Didn't the Japanese invade the Aleutian Islands during World War Two? Call yourself an entomologist.

For the love of Zeus, THEY ARE BEES. Flamethrower them or something ... oh wait they just did. Hide in a garbage can. Go scuba diving. Turn a boat upside down and lie in the shallow bit of a lake or similar water source. They're freaking bees. Bees. BEES! Perhaps, wasps and hornets, despite their being considerably harder, larger and kick-ass, were considered too obscure a presence in the insect world to warrant a starring role for US audiences. You realised that the morons who put this filmic disaster on the screen were constantly trying to turn benevolent and beautiful and familiar bees, a giant family of good neighbours we love so much, into marauding invaders hellbent on destroying the American way of life, or simply, every American's life, with giant, blown-up close-ups; the disconnect and heinous change in behaviour hopefully making them it that bit more scarier. No surprise the film goons failed. The fools. But, at least, they failed with an ineptitude that has made The Swarm a real rubbish classic.

Skip to the end: then there was the diabolical ending. It quite literally ends with the pathetic puff of a white smoky fart. Why didn't they all explode a la Jaws for some inexplicable reason? It might have looked cool.

Another flashback line: "The bees have broken inside" What cunning little bastards. You can't trust indie bands from the Isle of Wight.

Finally, that illustrious cast list. Caine, starting out on his super-whore phase which would culminate in the dreadlocked disastro that was Jaws IV: The Revenge; Richard Widmark, the guy who played Tommy Udo and Madigan falling hard on his face in every scene, and dear Henry Fonda, who should have died of shame from just reading the first few pages of script, let alone actually agree to act in the thing. Hank, don't you remember playing Frank, the blue-eyed child killer from Once Upon a Time in the West a few years before? You tragic, giant whore. If I didn't love My Darling Clementine with an uncommon kind of adoration, I would burn an effigy of you crafted from Tetra pak cartons, cigarette boxes and plughole hair rings right now.

And relax.

Why do they cancel the best TV shows so young?
Because they're idiots. No vision, zero ... zero absolutely bloody everything. Thank the sky gods then that the shows they cut down in the prime of their lives, or at least when the programme displays promise of delivering slices of TV heaven in the future, are so easy to view on the internet. Devious and deviant uploaders of such heavyweights as Lost and The Sopranos play a kind of cat and mouse game with the copyright sentinels, and so the chances of watching them are scanty and unpredictable. But shows that notched up viewing figures that didn't so much go through the roof as crash through the floor into the abyss of cancellation are practically untouched because those pathetic TV people think the chance to make even one red cent out of such flops has long since been pissed in the wind.

One fine example is the completely bloody goddamn brilliant college sitcom Undeclared. Laughter being the perfect tonic for that thing what happened the other week, I steamed through every episode of this freshmen arrive on campus and do comedic things in a naturalistic manner in no time at all, and found that I loved it even more than creator Judd Apatow's previous serio-comedy, the now cult-in-extremis Freaks and Geeks.

Of course, it was killed after 17 episodes because the American prime time viewer cannot relate to the collegiate experience (or can't be bothered to), even when it is funny, subtle, genius, touching and a whole load of other thoroughly deserved superlatives. You can blame the Fox network too. They simply didn't know what to do with it and treated it like an spray of unsightly pigeon turd spatters on their Perry Ellis suits.

Apatow is now making it big in the real cinema world with R-rated movies about aging virgins and accidental pregnancies, but you can see the same embryonic signs of edgy, honest humour take shape before their blooming in a torrent of joyous Anglo-Saxon swearing and high-lariously lewd high-jinx in The 40-Year-Old Virgin and Knocked Up (also starring Undeclared cast members Seth Rogen and Jason Segel). Apatow's acting ensembles always say things you say, or want to, if you had a decent scriptwriter controlling your dialogue.

If I wrote student sitcoms Undeclared is what it would sound and look like. More or less. Only in Britain we wouldn't have to tone down the naughtiness factor, thereby ensuring flashes of actual humping, stuffing the protagonists with drug cocktails and substituting such phrases as "cock block" for "crotch block" if anyone deigned to do a university sitcom here (fat chance, if truth be told).

The whole show is pitched so perfectly that even if you went to university on the lump of rainy rock we call the land of Britain rather than across the ocean you will recognise, with no little horror or shame, the same icky and sticky situations that kids suddenly finding themselves far from home for the first time get into. In my most pertinent case, it was the Freshman fifteen". I have only just recovered.

Want more encouragement? It even has cameo-ing Ben Stiller donning a mullet-and-moustache combo that makes his White Goodman hairdo look like the epitome of respectable sobriety, and dispensing comforting advice along the lines of: "Nothing feels better than the love of someone ... like your mother. Except ecstasy. Do you want to do some ecstasy?" And there's a fantastic turn from Will Ferrell that frankly chilled me to the bone with its suggestions of a future already foretold.

Now I order you to watch it. It's on tv-links. Go!

(Don't worry, I will revisit the subject of quiz in good time. Once the aching pain has faded and the scar tissue finally smothered the deep, deep psychological wounds ... I'm joking! Natch)

Let me hit you with some knowledge: QUIZZZZZZZ
1 Who became the last person to defeat Rocky Marciano in a boxing ring when he defeated him as an amateur in March 1948?
2 Which Lumiere brothers single 50-second shot of a train coming into a station famously caused early cinemagoers to flee in fear of being crushed by the "incoming" vehicle?
3 Described as "Bosnia's Billie Holiday", which singer with the surname Medunjanin revived the sevdah, the ancient lyric ballad of Bosnia and recently released her debut album, Rosa?
4 The fourth brightest in the night sky, Arcturus is the brightest star in which constellation?
5 Which architect and avant-garde artist is carrying out a modern design makeover of the Swiss resort of Zermatt, with the Vernissage (a cinema/gallery/nightclub), the View House (a four-apartment building) and a hotel named the Omnia, while he is also planning to build a 117m steel-and-glass pyramid on top of 3883m-tall Klein Matterhorn?
6 Who became the first Chinese champion at a major marathon when she won in London in 2007?
7 Which French author wrote the original screenplay for the 1961 Alain Resnais film Last Year in Marienbad/L'Annee derniere a Marienbad?
8 Usually displayed in temples or carried in processions, what name is given to the painted banners seen in Tibetan art?
9 What sport was first played in England in 1895 at Madame Osterburg's College?
10 Which Swedish athlete won the men's high jump at the 2004 Olympics?
11 Each fitted with a reed made from reed/arundo donax, bamboo or elder, which bagpipes from the Balkans has stocks into which the chanters and blowpipe and drone fit are called "glavini" in Bulgaria and can be made out of Cornel wood or animal horn, while the melody chanter is called the gaidunitza?
12 Also called Zante, what is the southernmost of the core Ionian islands?
13 What did the MotoGP class replace in 2002?
14 Teodoro Obiang Nguema is the dictator/leader of which country?
15 Don Francisco de Cordoba founded Nicaragua's second city. What is it called?
16 The Grand Ole Opry show started broadcasting from which Nashville venue after 1943?
17 In geology, what does the K-T in the K-T boundary stand for?
18 Which colours give their name to the two species of the fish mullet?
19 Which New Zealand speedway star won the world individual title a record six times between 1968 and 1979?
20 Which German (1870-1938) sculpted the Moeller-Jarke Tomb (1901) and Have Pity! (1919)?
21 What term describes the beating or stamping of a foot during fencing?
22 Who was the first of tennis's "Four Musketeers" to win the Wimbledon Men's singles title?
23 The name Lyceum, as in the garden at Athens in which Aristotle taught, is derived from the word Lukeios, meaning "wolfslayer", which is an epithet of which god?
24 Which Russian skater won six world championships (1973-8) and Olympic golds in 1976 and 1980 with her partner Aleksandr Zaitsev, whom she married in 1975?
25 Settled by Slavs from Poland, which European capital city has a name meaning "beloved"?
26 Cambodia was part of which Hindu-Buddhist kingdom during the 1st century AD that was centred on the Mekong delta region?
27 Okinawa is the largest in which chain of volcanic islands?
28 Commandant of Saragossa under Charles V, Juan de Padilla was a principal leader of which 1520 rebellion against intolerable taxation which saw him defeated at the Battle of Villalar in 1521 and resulted in his beheading?
29 Where did the Duke of Marlborough claim his third great victory in 1708?
30 Which Roman-born missionary converted the Northumbrians in 625 and became the first Archbishop of York?
31 Inhabited by the Bedouin, which desert region of Saudi Arabia includes Riyadh?
32 Which South African province has a name meaning "Place of Gold" in Sotho?
33 Puck, Cordelia and Ophelia are moons in orbit around which planet?
34 In which month is the Geminids meteor shower visible?
35 Derived from the Italian "to stop", what term refers to a continuation of a note or rest beyond its usual length?
36 Rameses II "the Great", the third king of the 19th dynasty claimed to have defeated which people at Kadesh (though he failed to capture it), then formed a peace with them and married a princess of theirs?
37 Who became the first prime minister of the Union of South Africa in 1910?
38 In which month are Giant Pandas born?
39 Featuring drummer Peter Panka and bassist Charly Maucher both on lead vocals, which progressive Krautrock band that bore the name of a girl was formed in Hanover in 1970 and released their debut album Together less than two years later?
40 In 1849, who became US president for a single day, although he spent most of it sleeping?
41 With which 1699 treaty did the Austrians expel the Turks from Hungary, which was reunified under Hapsburg rule?
42 Known for its small greenish-yellow flower-heads and red leaf-like bracts, which shrub derives its name from the first minister to Mexico (1779-1851), where he is said to have found the shrub in 1828?
43 Who designed the Petronas Twin Towers in Kuala Lumpur?
44 Which ancient city on the Tigris, 20 miles south-east of Baghdad, is famous for the remains of the great vaulted hall of the Sassanian palace (after 2nd century)?
45 Where would you climb to the top of a cliff, bless yourself at the shrine of the Virgen de Guadalupe, and then jump off?
46 Which American city is home of the beer Coors?
47 The four original Canadian provinces were New Brunswick, Nova Scotia, Upper Canada and Lower Canada. What names did the latter two assume?
48 Which central mountain range on the Czech-Polish frontier has Gerlachovka (2663m) for its highest point?
49 Mongooses belong to which family of the order Carnivora?
50 How many beads are there in a rosary?
51 Which town in Jinan province was the birthplace of Confucius, although his grave has not yet been excavated, and is home to the Great Temple of Confucius?
52 Which South American capital city was founded in 1567 by Diego de Losada?
53 Who wrote the script for the films Accidental Hero, Blade Runner and Unforgiven?
54 Whose teachings, as recorded in various sacred books, form the basis of the religion Jainism?
55 The word macropine is used to describe which animals?
56 St Hippolytus was the first and Felix V the last to hold which title?
57 In which city is the Temple of Saint Sava, the largest Orthodox church currently in use?
58 Which architect designed the Arch at Hyde Park Corner in 1825?
59 Which mythical hero gives his name to the largest moth in the world?
60 Hawaiian native Duke Kahanamoku formed the first club devoted to what activity in 1920?
61 What is the French equivalent of the British military academy Sandhurst?
62 OBB is the state railway of which European country?
63 What is the longest psalm in the Bible?
64 Including Rowan Williams, how many people have been Archbishop of Canterbury?
65 What term for a self-contained city or other environment was coined by the architect Paolo Salieri from the words architectural and ecology?
66 Which singer-songwriter, who had breast cancer surgery last year, recently adopted a two-week-old baby boy called Wyatt Steven?
67 Who won the 1994 Turner Prize for Field?
68 Skype founders Janus Friis and Niklas Zennstrom have launched what early version of internet TV?
69 Which 34-year-old Australian and seven-time women's world surfing champion was the 2004 Laureus World Alternative Sports Person of the Year?
70 In which field was Edward Quinn a famous name during the 1950s?
71 Celestino Campos, Ernesto Cavour and Mauro Nunez are considered to be masters of which Bolivian musical genre?
72 Belonging to the mackerel shark family, what four-letter name is given to the ferocious shark known scientifically as Isurus oxyrhyncus?
73 Which US state joined the Union on December 11, 1816, has the cardinal for its state bird, the peony for its flower, the Tulip tree for its tree and has the motto "Crossroads of America"?
74 Where in Switzerland, which shares its name with a generic body part, are the headquarters of the Worldwife Fund for Nature?
75 Who became England's youngest ever monarch when he acceded to the throne on the death of his father, whilst aged only eight months?
76 Which Italian composer, who died in 2003, was known for his friendship and collaborations with pianist Andrea Lucchesini, who was renowned for his playing of the concerto Echoing Curves, while such experimental work as his 1968 composition Sinfonia for orchestra and eight amplified voices are now seen as classics of their kind?
77 In Italy, which fish are known as "coda di rospo" meaning toad's tail?
78 Which US president was known as The Red Fox of Kinderhook?
79 Which British general surrendered at Saratoga, New York, on October 17, 1777?
80 So called as it flies in the evening, what sort of creature is a "serotine"?
81 The Spanish navigator Juan Diaz de Solis discovered which river in 1516?
82 In centimetres, what is the diameter of a basketball hoop?
83 The German biochemist Emil Fischer postulated which hypothesis to explain the specificity of enzyme action in 1899?
84 In 1672, which Italian scientist undertook the first studies in embryology by describing the development of a chicken egg?
85 Thought to be of meteoric origin, which small, dark, glassy stone derives its name from the Greek for "molten"?
86 The world's longest land tunnel (21 miles), through the Alps, opened on June 15 having taken eight years to build. What is it called?
87 Which Birmingham City player's thigh caused Bert Trautmann's broken neck during the 1956 FA Cup final?
88 The largest castle in Central Europe, which Slovakian castle was burnt to the ground in 1781 and never rebuilt, although its white ruins remain a spectacular site?
89 Deep inside the Arctic Circle, which Norwegian town claims the most northerly university, botanical garden, planetarium and brewery - the Macks brewery - and is the self-styled "Paris of the North"?
90 As of June 16, which Dane has won the Le Mans endurance race a record seven times, and only confirmed his participation this week having suffered a horrific crash in the opening round of the DTM at Hockenheim in April?
91 Adopted by Swedish parents when he was aged three, the 21-year-old Brazilian, Antonio Lindback, is a rising star in which sport?
92 Which course was the venue for the 2007 golf (men's) US Open?
93 Now the last survivor of the class Rhyncocephalia, which reptile is the largest in New Zealand and takes its name from the Maori for "on the back spine"?
94 The American athlete Walter Davis is the indoor and outdoor world champion in which field event?
95 Starring Rachel Griffiths, Calista Flockhart and Sally Field, which new Channel 4 import from the States centres on the travails of a billion dollar vegetable company run by the Walker family?
96 The Cloud Gate Dance Theatre, whose latest show is titled Wild Cursive, comes from which island?
97 Which acclaimed US stand-up comedian played Dr Tobias Funke on axed sitcom Arrested Development?
98 John Simm is the latest actor to play which nemesis of Doctor Who?
99 Which ill-fated country rock star, who died in 1973, was born Cecil Ingram Connor III?
100 Designed by Norman Foster, the Technology Centre in Woking is used by which sports team?

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Answers to BH116
1 Coley Wallace 2 The Arrival of a Train at Le Ciotat Station 3 Amira 4 Bootes 5 Heinz Julen 6 Zhou Chunxiu 7 Alain Robbe-Grillet 8 Thangkas 9 Netball 10 Stefan Holm 11 Gaida or Gajda 12 Zakynthos 13 500cc class 14 Equatorial Guinea 15 Leon 16 Ryman Auditorium 17 Cretaceous-Tertiary 18 Red, Grey 19 Ivan Mauger 20 Ernst Barlach 21 Appel 22 Jean Borotra 23 Apollo 24 Irina Rodnina 25 Ljubljana (Laibach) 26 Funan 27 Ryukyu 28 Revolt of the Comuneros 29 Oudenarde 30 Paulinus 31 Nejd 32 Gauteng 33 Uranus 34 December 35 Fermata 36 Hittites 37 Louis Botha 38 January 39 Jane 40 David Atchison 41 Treaty of Karlowitz 42 Poinsettia 43 Cesar Pelli 44 Ctesiphon 45 Acapulco 46 Denver 47 Ontario, Quebec 48 Tatra mountains 49 Viverridae 50 165 51 Qufu 52 Caracas 53 David Webb Peoples 54 Mahavira 55 Kangaroo 56 Antipope 57 Belgrade 58 Decimus Burton 59 Hercules 60 Surfing 61 St Cyr 62 Austria 63 119th 64 104 65 Arcology 66 Sheryl Crow 67 Antony Gormley 68 Joost 69 Layne Beachley 70 Photography 71 Charango 72 Mako shark 73 Indiana 74 Gland 75 Henry VI (in 1422) 76 Luciano Berio 77 Monkfish 78 Martin van Buren 79 John Burgoyne 80 Bat 81 Rio de la Plata 82 45cm (1ft 6in) 83 "lock-and-key" hypothesis 84 Marcelle Malphigi 85 Tektite 86 Loetschberg tunnel 87 Peter Murphy 88 Spis Castle 89 Tromso 90 Tom Kristensen 91 Speedway 92 Oakmont (Pittsbugh, Pennsylvania) 93 Tuatara 94 Triple jump 95 Brothers & Sisters 96 Taiwan 97 David Cross 98 The Master 99 Gram Parsons 100 McLaren

Hello

I've been a bit busy, doing such things as lying on my bed, cooking a variety of tomato-based Italian dishes, wondering what might have been and wasting half my working day - if you can call it working - on Facebook. (Sample of typical conversation between friends at the moment: "Facebook" "Facebook, facebook" "Facebook, Facebook ... Facebook?" "Facebook facebook!" "facebook" "Facebook, facebook facebook and facebook, facebook, facebook, facebook" "Hmmm, facebook")

Normal service will be resumed once I have got my head together, done a feature, probably gone to Glasto, gone into rehab as a result, and then, finally decided to bloody well launch my 505-question email quiz in suitably overblown "please buy it, mi lord, go on, I need your patronage, guvna" fashion.

On a more serious note, to everyone who has got in contact with me about TPQ, whether by email, text, comment etc and hasn't so much received a bye or leave from me, well, let's just say I've been a bit overwhelmed at the moment, but would now like to take the opportunity to say a hearty thank you. Thank you. Once again. Your well wishing and similarly themed messages have been much appreciated if not reciprocated.