The Yet-Further Exploits of Colin Farrell's Winky

      As most of you have probably surmised, the Doc has been otherwise occupied for the past week and change, having been very busy with his "Frankly, My Dear, I Don't Give A Shit Anymore" tour, and so he figured it would take an article of equally ambivalent import to make him drag his sorry arse back to blogging.    Well, here it finally is.

      Which calls to mind: this is the third, I believe, time in two years we've had to endure some sort of rogermarole in relation to good ole Colin TheMarines.   Too bad the "three times, you're out" rule does not apply to film players (c.f., John Travolta, He Who Will Not Remain Dead).

      On a more serious note, this past week we lost an Irish actor-- well, actress-- that this blog will genuinely miss (and who, in passing, received absolutely no recognition in the mainstream media).    Geraldine Fitzgerald-- who played, he says, among other things reaching for associations with which average readers of this blog may be familiar, Dudley Moore's vicious grandmother in Arthur and (shriek!) Rodney Dangerfield's battleax mother-in-law in Easy Money-- has died.    She was a very good actress, and one who certainly improved with age, and became in many ways the epitome of the Old Lady You Just Don't Fucking Mess With, period.   Check out her performances, too, in the original film version of Bronte's Wuthering Heights, and as Edith opposite Alexander Knox's Woodrow in the forties biopic, Wilson.

      This leads me to a point that gets right under my skin, how we live in a culture that will let marvellous actresses, like Ms Fitzgerald, Kay Walsh, Dame Wendy Hiller and so many others, pass without a jot of notice or tribute, but focusses speculatively and leeringly on the bedtime adventures of an actor of questionable output and limited range.   And people wonder why I think we live in a sickeningly classless society.    Harrumph.