Nothing is ever created or destroyed but you can always change it about a bit. Savage, the little ninny, in chemistry that day had the wrong idea when he asked at the end of the experiment, ‘can’t you do something with that sir, like heat it up, to change it into something else?’ It was cruel to join in the laughter – I was only shortly out of the alchemy stage myself, but what is funny now for people of our weft is that he would no longer be considered thick for asking such an idiotic question – merely badly taught.
The other day, I heard a fellow celebrity describe Jonathan Ross and Russell Brand’s behaviour in their attempt to destroy the peace of Andrew Sachs’s remaining years as not worthy of opprobrium; rather that they were let down by their managers who had created the conditions under which their vile actions might take place, and had not been present to make sure they didn’t.

Poor Savage, but I was the fool because little windbags like me were channelled towards the grown-up pursuit of things like chemistry, whereas lost causes like him fell towards The Arts. For some reason I was persuaded that I preferred questions that sounded like: making use of calcium carbonate, hydrochloric acid, and charcoal, describe the preparation and collection of carbon monoxide, because it was not easy, but worthy; to:graph Bach’s fugues and analyse the results, identifying the initial melodies and their transformations, which was, but wasn’t. Besides, learning music was an extra-curricular private pursuit with but a marginal cost of impaired leisure, which, as it happened, turned out to be consumed to a significantly greater extent by the extra hours needed to be devoted to the study of chemmy, just to tread water. Looking back now, homework seems like it was all chemmy in those days. As it happens guys and gals, it do say here, that young Dickie wants me to fix it for him to tread water at the cost of excelling; well, I had a little word with his headmaster and … here is your plastic badge, an unsolicited anal intervention to set your direction of travel, and a lifetime of memories. Now, give uncle Jimmy a kiss.
He was hard to dislike Savage, for the spare Yo-Yo bars he always carried with him. He’s a good actor now, with not a whiff of celebrity about him.
We have a clip of the perpetrator referred to above criticising his twenty-year employers, the BBC, in favour of supporting his coconuts, which we can play on A Sock in the Eye if we can lure him on. He’s trying to grift his way as novelist now, so I’m sure we’ll get our chance. Cum-Bot can apply a bit of heat to see if he changes into something else. But if we are limited to operating within the accepted scientific zero-sum parameters – similar minus a bit of gas will make for a tolerably acceptable outcome .
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