IF SEEING WERE BELIEVING

Press, Volume CXII, Issue 33065, 4 November 1972, Page 14

IF SEEING WERE BELIEVING

(By WHIM WHAM) Some People live without TV. I do Myself, — but every Three Years I rent Myself a Screen, To study the electoral Scene. And that’s the Sum of my first-hand Experience of Tellyland. For six Weeks I’m a helpless Viewer, Stewing like Brisket on a Skewer, — Though the Comparison is not A happy one, the Stuff they’ve got Goes with cold Fish (if that’s your Type) Kedgereed with leftover Tripe. I saw Jack Marshall LIVE! It moved! Before my Eyes the Fact was proved. There was Jack Marshall, — who could doubt? Its Mouth moved, and the Words fell out. The following Night, who else but Norm? I saw the MAN HIMSELF perform, Norm Kirk in Person, — who could doubt? Its Mouth moved, and the Words fell out. More fervently than Jack’s, that’s true, — I always take the BALANCED VIEW: Each Party gets its Turn, its Due. Two Faces and two Voices, see? I had them Both, on my TV, Trying to convince Themselves, not Me. And Mrs Sharpies, and the Weather, Oh what a Time we’ve had, together! Before Jack Marshall’s Words took Wing, Our Kiwi Ballet did its Thing, — ‘Swan Lake’ in Pre-Columbian Dress Had some deep Meaning to express, — The Music was Brazilian, gav as The ancient Incas or the Mayas. — They danced (and looked) like Rugbv Players, It made mv Hamstrings ache to see Them. Next Night, —- alas, poor Mr Beetham! My Box broke down, with Noise like Shellfire, It flashed like stroboscopic Hellfire. Now, why did It behave that Way? It wasn’t even Guy Fawkes’ Day.