Trash Gordon, children's TV, Silence of the Lambs, and body parts.

Trash Gordon - Sesame Streets equivalent to Flash Gordon - is a man in a blue suit and red cape. He runs around dancing and saving Sesame Street from the accumulation of rubbish. In some ways, he's even more exciting than Flash Gordon himself. For those unfamiliar with ol' Trashy, Trash Gordon is this guy:



Not to be confused with this guy:



Trash Gordon appears in the science fiction adventure book of the same name which Oscar the Grouch reads to Slimy to help him get to sleep. The funny thing is that Trash Gordon is much more exciting than Flash Gordon. At least he didn't end up taking drugs with a talking teddy bear. No, Trash has taken a slightly different park. He'd prefer to appear on a children's show forever marred by the slippery fingers of Kevin Clash. Who's to blame? Certainly not Clash. He only had his had up a puppets ass for more than 20 years. That's all. But the weird thing is that I'd still prefer to watch Sesame Street over Flash Gordon with my daughter any day. It's actually somewhat entertaining.

Children's television is seriously going down the drain. Banana's in Pyjamas is now animated. There's three Bob the Builder shows. Play School does't have the Rocket Clock, The Wot Wots contributes to underdeveloped speech in young children, Yo Gabba Gabba is just plain scary, and Zigby tells children that unicorns exist. I know children's imaginations are vast caverns of untarnished wonder, but Zigby was adamant that unicorns existed. I am just lucky that my daughter can't talk so I don't have to break her little heart when I tell her that unicorns don't exist.

In a perverse way, I don't want my daughter's first word to be something like mum, dad, banana, teddy, or some other childish word. I want it to be so momentous, and so unpredictable, so when she's older I can tease her about it. Something like cadaver, or retina, or Hello Clarice. Imagine if she had a little friend at pre school named Clarice? Hello Clarice, my name is Isobelle! Oh, the horror of her friends parents! It would be awesome. Although social services might be called....I heard that babies pick up languages really easily, but I think I'm at an age that I wouldn't be able to learn a new one. So I'm a little apprehensive about teaching my daughter how to curse at me in another language. She'd grow up, swear at me in Italian, and then slip away with a sly smile. Then I'd remind her that Elmo is a paedophile and ruin her childhood.

At the moment I am working on my novel, although I am finding it hard to think of creative ways for people's bodies to be found. The killer is quite gruesome and disgusting, and for one of the victims he cut out her eyes and put them in her vagina. I'm not sure what that was supposed to symbolise, but I'm at a loss as to how to move forward. I mean, what beats that? She became a gynaecologist, but oh wait - she's dead. Sorry, can't open up that new practice. I was think of cutting off someone's digits (their fingers and toes) and sewing them into someone's body in various places. But the problem with this is that it's all well and good to just chop off someone's fingers, but I want it all to have some kind of meaning. Every killer has a reason for doing things the way they do. My killer targets blondes, so perhaps his mother was a blonde and broke his fingers? And maybe she was a prostitute? Who knows. I'll figure it out sooner or later.

The photo of the day is...

da da da da....



Jimmy Giggle!!

Claire