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By Eric Idle, May 24, 2013 8:47 am

It’s been awhile since I blogged and I apologize for my temporary absence from the misinformation highway, but it has been a time of great busyness and great elation for all Idles.

If I may share a little of a Father’s pride, my daughter Lily graduated, cum laude, from Whitman College, Walla Walla, and should by now be safely in Sasquatch.   I had the great joy of handing her her diploma and receiving a daughter’s hug of delight.  I had earlier accepted an Honorary Doctorate in Humanities, and in my Commencement Address (it’s on the web if you care) I said my wife was thrilled she was finally married to a Doctor, and I was also thrilled, as I could now prescribe my own medical marijuana.

According to the College President a web site had ranked me Number Three in Commencement Speakers, behind Oprah and Obama.  But neither of them sang Always Look On The Bright Side of Life with a College Band, so an Oregon newspaper put me at Number One.   Sadly on The Huffington Post link you cannot hear the band or the crowd at all, only my voice and guitar.  Pity that as everyone was in splendid whistling form and the band arrangement was wonderful, written and conducted by a student (oh irony) by the name of Jesus.  (Not Brian.)

The day before I did an hour presentation talk with Q and A which went very well and is also on the web if you want.   I showed a clip of Philosophers Football including my goal as Socrates on the old Bayern Munchen Ground (!) and we sang The Philosophers Song and my kids presented a huge Holy Grail to Varsity Nordic, the Whitman College comedy club, for having the worst name for a Comedy Group since Monty Python’s Flying Circus.  There was a huge audience, some Q and A, and then a long signing.

I had a nice email from Doctor Cleese congratulating me on becoming a Doctor, and wondering what all the fuss was from that Doctor Chapman.    Actually I think I must certainly be the last Python to receive a Doctorate??

My son very kindly flew in from Brisbane to be with the lovely Tania and me, and we wine tasted and partied with the best of them.   It has been very sad to see him return to Australia last night, and my daughter head off to her new home in another town.   Proud tears, but sad ones.  The nest is empty.  The kids have gone.   Actually the nest isn’t entirely empty, as the dogs are here, and a bunch of rats seem determined to nest here too.   There are more rats in Hollywood….

Actually there are currently masses of the rodents here in LA since we are all namby pamby liberals and use humane traps, which means we simply release them elsewhere, and of course they multiply elsewhere and then come back.  We found one nest in my wife’s car.  They apparently love Lexus wiring.  Ah that Japanese wiring.   It’s like noodles to them.  Perhaps we can use the rodents for recycling, or their gases to power our vehicles.

I’m ambivalent about rats, having learned to love them when I played the Pied Piper for Faerie Tale Theater, and even had them crawl all over me.   I’ve had worse.   Some of those producers….don’t start me.   Actually they were specially trained Hollywood rats and were flown to Toronto for the filming, and when finished they were donated to the local zoo to feed the snakes.  I know.   Some kind of metaphor for the film business there.  Work with a Python and then eaten by one.

And talking of rats, back in Camelot The Grail on Sunday, (nudge nudge) has been preparing another gas attack. I don’t know what they are preparing to publish but from experience I’m guessing rubbish.  Lest their vile bile and poisonous untruths should sully the public record let me state quite clearly that I don’t recall a time when the Pythons have got along more harmoniously.  Last month we all met up and reminisced happily for a couple of hours about The Meaning of Life.   No, the movie.   This was an hilarious two hour re-union and I joined them at 3 in the morning from California via Skype in my pajamas.  I also had a cameraman filming me, and now it’s all cut together and it looks great and will be released in the Autumn/ Fall.   We also sensibly determined to undertake a review of all our holdings in the face of this never ending lawsuit by a greedy bastard.  The case has been with the judge since January and it has cost us a small fortune to defend ourselves against some large lies.  Happily the plaintiff is bankrupt so if he loses we are going to ask for the death penalty.  (Warning:  This is a Joke.  Jokes should not be read by unaccompanied journalists and in any case are highly toxic and dangerous to handle. They should be used only in the hands of qualified experts.)

So that’s it.  Jolliness and fun, and special thanks to Tasha, (I am her Dogfather), Alix and Katy, who came all the way with us, and made the Marcus Whitman Hotel a happy center of celebration.  Now I must put on my opera shoes on and head for New York.   But first a little visit from Professor Brian Cox and his lovely wife Gia….

Gillian Frew: 17 Funniest Lines from Monty Python Star Eric Idle’s Commencement Speech 5/22/13 8:27 AM

http://www.huffingtonpost.com/gillian-frew/17-funniest-lines-from-monty-python-star_b_3315378.html

Comments Off on A Fishy Lament

By Eric Idle, May 3, 2013 4:29 pm

You may sing of the song of the cuckoo

Say olé to the lay of the lark

You may thrill to the rill

Of the nightingale’s trill

Which awakens your heart after dark,

But the song that you never will hear of

And alas and alack how I wish

That somebody somewhere would sing of

The glorious song of the fish.

Whose heart hasn’t stirred at the call of a bird

Or the purr of a cat that’s well fed?

And if the lone strain of a far distant train

Doesn’t move you, then frankly you’re dead.

But there’s one thing you never will hear of

A song that is long and delish

From the soul of the sole

In the sea or the bowl,

The heart breaking song of the fish.

Oh maybe they hail the young dolphin

Or tell a tall tale of a whale,

But nobody sings of herrings and things

Like whiting, or sea bass or snail.

No one sang of the pang of the penguin

As he sat on the long winter ice,

There’s no news of the mews of the poor kangaroos

As they waits for their mates to be nice.

It’s only the birds

Who get all the words

Those poets go on and on,

For the rest of the animal kingdom

Lyrics and songs there are none.

c) Eric Idle  2013

Comments Off on Unfinished Business 4.

By Eric Idle, April 26, 2013 8:56 am

I just found this nice quote from Graham Chapman which I had written on my wall in London in the late 70’s.

“Life is like a yacht in the Caribbean….  it’s alright if you’ve got one.”

Also I came across this piece of unused Python material, in my handwriting.  It might have been written for one of the records.

MAN

Just where do ideas come from?

Indeed where did I get the idea to ask you just where do ideas come from?

What is an idea?

Is it an idea to ask you “what is an idea?”

And, if so, where did the idea to ask you what is an idea, come from?

Well, we could have the idea to look up idea in the dictionary, but where did the idea to look up “idea” in the dictionary come from?

Not to mention who had the idea to write a dictionary with the idea of defining the idea of ideas in the first place.

And is it a good idea anyway?

Do I have ideas?    Or do ideas have me?

Do I think or do I merely think I think?

Who am I?

Am I the I who asks who the who is?

Or am I really the who, the object that the subject “I” is asking about?

Indeed in the question, “who am I?” who the who is who?

Am I a member of The Who?

Which came first the egg or the mayonnaise?

How many roads must a man walk down before he knows he’s a man?

Why do fools fall in love?

What does become of the broken hearted?

How deep is the ocean?

Where have all the flowers gone?

How much is that doggie in the window?

Am I nuts?

Should I be locked up?

Would you like a nice nut?

Shall I show you my nuts?

I should leave now.

Comments Off on Unfinished Business 3

By Eric Idle, April 11, 2013 4:33 pm

Click on this link (twice) to hear this demo track from Spamalot, sung by me.

13 Burn Her

Sometimes even nicely done things can bite the dust. For instance this song, which I always loved and was originally in Act One of Spamalot in Chicago.    It was a song for Sir Bedevere and followed the witch scene from The Holy Grail.  “We have found a witch, may we burn her!”

The problem was that having taken the trouble to reduce the play to consistent characters who run all the way through, the audience were suddenly faced with Hank Azaria and David Hyde Pierce on stage as not Lancelot and not Robin.  In other words it became revue.

Sara Ramirez was fun as the witch, and at the end while she was being burnt, she flew off to safety, since she was a witch! But at this point the play simply lost all semblance of having a real plot and Mike Nichols felt strongly that it should go, and I agreed with him, and when we cut it the story was much easier to follow.   Nice song though!   (I’ve updated it a little.)

 Burn Her!

BEDEVERE

When I was just a young chap in me nappy

Me pappy said “Son life can be quite cruel.

If you do not want to be unhappy

Never marry witches that’s a golden rule.

There is only one way to survive ‘em

They will always play you for a fool

If you find a witch then you must take the silly bitch

And string her up

And turn her into fuel.

Burn her!

Burn her!

Put her on the barbecue and turn her,

Scratch that itch before that bitch can spurn yer

Grill her that won’t thrill her but it certainly will learn her,

If you burn her

Burn her

Burn her till she’s cooked all the way through.

String her up and try her

And then fling her on the pyre

And then light the fire and toodle-oo!”

WITCH

Burn me

Spurn me

I have learned that men are all the same.

One minute they are hot

For everything you’ve got

Then they try and fry you

And they’ll even crucify you

Beat me

Eat me

I don’t care what nasty things you do

It is godforsaken

Turning me into fried bacon

Au revoir, goodbye cia ciao adieu.

BEDEVERE

Burn her

Burn her

She is on the menu for today.

Just like Joan of Arc

We’re gonna light the spark

Fricassee her then let’s see her

Maybe we’ll rotisserie her

Oil her, boil her,

Broil her till she’s done all the way through.

We’ll burn her and we’ll baste her

And perhaps we’ll even taste her

When we’ve turned her into good witch stew!

She may be a good looker

But you still have gotta cook her

For a hooker ain’t no good for you.

c) Eric Idle & John Du Prez.  Rutsongs & Ocean Music.