¶ Opening Chat
- Starts with an analysis of England's performance in The Ashes, which happened 2 weeks ago. Ben will provide the analysis along with Baggers, Wobbers, and Chobblers. Are these people their coach, player, a joint on their body, a Victorian virus?
- Will the American listeners know what a Chabblers is to do with? It's cricket: a match that lasts 19 months. England had an absolute shabblers, because of Wabblers, who was throwing croddlers at them. Henry runs out of noises when describing the virus that one of the players has come down with.
- Australians never call each other by their name. David Smith: Smithers, Davvers, Dave-o (they do like an "o"). Never do anything to call attention to yourself, or you'll forever be known as 'choc droppers'/'chocco droppo'.
- A normal American would say something like, "Hey! Sanchez! You're off the case!" (just any normal American). Americans are always being taken on or off cases, even if working in IT or one half of a couple breaking up ("Darling! You're off the case!"). There is a badge culture, where every job has a metallic badge, which no one ever checks. At some point they will stand on a ferry and look out over a lonely river at sunset, thinking they may have become the badge. Be careful that they don't drop the badge into the river, where it is swallowed and ends up in a New Jersey bouillabaisse (or bouillabadge). Badge scrapers, in their frogman outfits (are they outfits?) are employed to look for the lost badges, which are smelted down and made into firearms.
- Ben tries to get Henry back onto his theory of Americans not using nicknames in the same way as Brits, but he hasn't finished with the badge scrapers explanation, involving a whalien spout, an anti-helicopter device without its missile, and a shooting badge mistaken for a shooting star.
- You can't -er or -o American names (John F. Kenneders, Obam-o), instead they will be a baseball player called Billy 'The Grill' McKenzie or a Grip in a set of film credits will be John 'Gumbo' Jones or Pauline 'Switchblade' Murphy (a real mistake to get her on the production). Or names like B.J. Senior the Third.
- Is 'Badgers' an animal or the nickname of Stephen Badge?
- Ben might get Parters, Henry Henners, and Mike Wozzers because the UK and Australia have a connection in our sausage-fingered king. The Beans all rise. Mike can still see Henry's hands, so he is clearly not doing the sausage salute.
- Henry's big revelation is that England and Australia are connected in some way, but he isn't happy about the sarky, arsehole way it is presented to him.
- Jonathan Agnew (Aggers), Henry Blofeld (Blowers), Phil Tufnell (Tuffers), Michael Atherton (Athers)... how did David Gower escape? Because he pre-erred, you can't -er an -er. Is the thing binding these chummy groups something that happened on a Big Night or camping holiday in the past that they've agreed never to talk of again? Allegeders(ly). We don't know what they get up to in the winter so perhaps it's a Christmas Cricket Camping Holiday gone wrong + murder.
- Henry wonders when he hears these nicknames if it's not just chumminess but also coercion into groupthink. Free your mind!
- Mike wishes he was into cricket, like the Beans' mutual friend Simon is, as he sees it as a nice passion to have: it's weird, it goes on for ages, people adjust their sleep patterns while The Ashes is on – complete dedication, which Mike doesn't have to anything.
- Henry sometimes listens to The Ashes when he wakes in the middle of the night. Bad idea – hard to get back to sleep because it's so thrilling.
- Australian cricket is the opposite of Henry's usual night-time reading of "bad people having an awful time in the Arctic tundra". He's on a break from that now though because he became inured to people eating dogs, eating 70% of Percival, etc. The stories just hit up against the same problems every time: it's ruddy cold, the dog looks ruddy tasty, gaffer taping your fingers back on is a pyrrhic victory (first time you pick a frozen icicle out of your schnozz and they're off again). Henry only got halfway through Endurance, ironically.
¶ Topic Chat
- Nicole from Oregon, where Mike would love to go, might have a Sasquatch for a neighbour. The Sasquatch-spotting scene appeals to Mike, in the Great Forests of Washington and Oregon, with your new fleece.
- Henry recently went on a hike, but he has a low bar for what is a 'hike' so he only went from Cambridge town centre to Grantchester, a suburb of Cambridge, with the same bin collection days.
- Hiking bingo: boots (tick!), ducks, saw some (tick!), emergency blister plasters (tick!), toilet roll in a waterproof sandwich bag (tick!), muzak for diguising the noises made while using collapsible toilet bowl (tick!), flare for burning the turd off (only time you point a flare downwards, but be careful of the backdraft if your trousers aren't secured at the bottom).
- No such thing as a bagless hike. Without a bag, you're lost, stricken. Just set fire to yourself and eat yourself as a human duck roll or spell your parts into S.O.S. in a clearing (again, a pyrrhic victory if it works). Or you could walk for 20 mins and you'll be in Cambridge, or ask the guy in Ryman's for directions. Beyond the soft folders and into the 'Back to School' section = a "hike" in Ryman's.
- You can't have an umbrella on a hike. Henry learned this early on when he brought one to a hike in Glencoe and looked like almost as much of a dickhead as all the proper hikers. Is this to do with cities cutting off winds, or is it that the hiker needs hands to be operating compasses and maps, resuscitating a friend, beating off a red deer in masturbatory combat (the ancient art)?
- When was the fleece invented? Elizabeth II times? People hiked in oiled sealskins before the invention of the fleece. Hiking? Or expeditions? Everywhere has been discovered, including Grantchester, which Henry discovered when he tried to plant the Paker standard into a tea rooms.
- Henry has become addicted to the rucksack, a city hiker style from a London shop for the urban hiker, called "Wanker's Haven"? No, this one was "Dilbert's Apotheosis". Henry's friend asked why he needed a bag, as he wore a completely urban outfit on the hike, including brown suede shoes (Mike: "He was asking for it."), which would have been fine for a Bach recital in a disused church or an XL bully fighting ring in a disused church or a conceptual artist who fills disused churches with disused churches.
- Interstitial message from Ben with piano accompaniment to remind us we are listening to the episode about the topic "Neighbours".
- Mike's friend went to a boarding school for thick poshos (this kid wasn't going to Eton) and went on a school trip to the Cairngorms, where something went wrong and helicopters were involved, but his parents didn't even know he was on the expedition until they saw him being rescued on the news, coming out of the helicopter wrapped in foil ("Rupert!"). Emotional response should be "Fine." as he is no longer in danger, and his parent can then give him a stiff handshake on his next birthday.
- More piano and Ben reminding the listener that this is the episode on "Neighbours".
- Hiking bingo should include ducks and sandwiches. Mike operates on a base level of +2 sandwiches. At time of recording, he has 2 sandwiches wrapped and ready to go in the kitchen. If you are offered a spare sandwich from Mike, let that warm light – like the light through the stained glass of Canterbury Cathedral – fall upon you. Mike's spare sandwiches sustained Henry through his late 30s, resulting in chutneyfication to his upper and mid intestines. Every 40-something man gets a free NHS message explaining chutney units. Henry couldn't believe the ideal no. of units when his doctor explained ("In a week? Are you joking?").
- Mike was being a good neighbour in giving sandwiches to Mike. That's for you, Nicole!
- Mike's sandwiches are so good because of surprising chutneys made of e.g. limestone.
- Henry's hiking friend, Ramtopi (Holy Pharaoh of Ancient Egypt and Nubian King, wearing golden slippers, an anaconda from the waist up (you can find the waist by looking for where the fleece ends)) or was he Tampopi (or was that his beautiful wife?) may have been wondering why Henry wasn't just wearing shoes as they were only walking through Grantchester/Cambridge.
- Henry got duck blindness on the walk (so many ducks) and started pulling apart his friend with two forks, then wrapping him in a giant pancake.
- In the evening, when in an Indian restaurant, Henry realised he had been tramping clods of mud through the floor with his walking boots.
- Apology to Nicole from Oregon from the Beans, who are simply bad at their job (no lack of respect to the state of Oregon).
¶ Plug Zone
- Mike's tour is still on sale, promoted by charming Instagram videos featuring Pam in a river with rocks being thrown at her head/pebbles being caught in her mouth. A family member discovered that Pam enjoys the pebble catching and chasing stones around the riverbank. Things Pam likes: her toys, digging holes, rolling around in others' piss. If she rolled in her own piss, she would become her own territory, and descend into an infinite vortex: it's philosophically challenging for a vizsla, who is a pointer rather than a philosophy queen.
- Henry has created a whole range of Christmas merch: Henry's Dingle-Dangles (feat. either Santa rowing a boat or Sandi Toksvig)! Or has he? Ben reads from an email between the Beans and their merch person, stating that the merch should be made 'ideally' by the w/c 24-Nov for Black Friday (the Beans are recording on Mon 24-Nov). Henry lives in a comfortable, safe space in relation to time that is a grey area. Instead of a left to right arrow on a piece of paper, Henry scrunches the paper and throws it into a bin. Henry picks holes in 'by', 'the week', and 'commencing' and queries whether it's ideas or finished designs. 'By' as in adjoining?
- Henry explains how he and time operate. For example, arranging to meet at 8 o'clock is a playful Enlightenment game of the sort Voltaire might play. Both Henry and the 'target'/loved one/meetee cannot possibly meet at 8 o'clock. It's an Achilles Duck which Mike thinks Henry can clamber inside and make into a Trojan Duck. Mike would arrive at 7 to case the joint, hovering in the shadows with a view of the meeting location, pacing it out so that he can arrive at precisely 8. The exact same protocol as an assassination. Careful not to be trapped in the back of a van or waste time burning off your fingerprints or making a flesh-coloured "meatstache" to wear on top of your moustache (this is a sausage to use as a decoy if being chased by an FBI Alsatian).
- Achilles' duck is one of Zeno's Paradoxes, which was in an episode of In Our Time that Henry has listened to in the past month. Mike posits that Bob the Duck would just go all the way over the pond in one go: no paradox, because he's pragmatic, but you wouldn't want to be stuck in a lift with him (or any duck).
- Henry calls people who get to the meeting at 8 'dweebs' but is aware they may be called 'considerate' or 'nice'. People who are late are quite cool and maybe into the arts. There's an acceptable perimeter around any time, e.g. 8:05 is still meeting at 8. Ben's doctor surgery gives the patients 10 mins leeway. Any later, you're struck off the NHS and any treatment you had is extracted from your body (the pacemaker whipped right out). Henry would read this as "your appointment is now ten past eight" and then he'd add 5 mins leeway and miss it. Henry is "on to" his friends' tactics such as making the meeting time earlier. A steamy game of conceptual chess. Henry's friends have to break in to his flat and change all the clocks, then paint on more stubble to his face, but Henry might notice that "Come Dine With Me" started at the wrong time. Henry rug pulls by revealing the entire fake flat he made in the back of a truck.
- If given the date of Mon 29-Nov, Henry sees the week eminating out from a central point of Wednesday, which he argues is now the start of the week.
- There is plenty of merch at the Beans' shop even if Henry does not manage to make any Christmas merch. His plan was to make a new jigsaw but with little time, it may just be 'a desert' or 'the sky' or 'mist'.
- The most pressing plug is for the weekend of Beans shows coming up at the weekend of 6th and 7th December: the tour show, the House of Pain show and the Ratmas show. Mike asks Henry to confirm the times in Eastern Standard and Mongolian Meridian. The listener can watch from Ouagadougou or Wagamama's on the livestream.
- Extra bit recorded at a later date: Henry has made some new merch with Pam on and with a sporty/Ivy League theme (you could be on the way to a softball game or studying Liberal Arts at Yale). Not a jigsaw. If you bought one, you've been had in some kind of Ponzi or triangle scheme (but the other way around) which is a 2D pyramid scheme. Henry guarantees he will do a jigsaw next year but the term "next" can be interpreted in a number of ways. The French phrase "Demain on rase gratis!" means you get a free shave at the barber's tomorrow – a thought experiment that proves something (maybe: tomorrow never comes).
Kelly Vivanco's Show Art
¶ Emails
- No email jingle but the section starts at 59:50.
- Caroline emails with the subject "Henry's Icy Miserable Book Club", which Henry is on a pause from, but is still taking recs. This book is perfect for him and also for Provincial Dads: "Polar Star" by Martin Cruz Smith. Set during the Cold War, hero is a Russian cop who doesn't play by the rules (this blows Henry's mind) and has crossed the wrong people (why would he do that???) and is hiding on a fishing fleet in the Bering Sea (Henry is interested now because of the sea ice) processing fish on The Slime Line (something for Ben). The femme fatale is a sexy American scientist called Susan. There's a fight in a fish freezer with unpleasant hooks and barbs and a slime icicle (a slicicle) through the eye. Everyone is miserable cos it's cold and it's Russia in the 80s. Henry is hurt by Caroline saying the ending is too complex for him when in fact he was described in his school reports as "a natural" at sub-aquatic semaphore. The mechanised processing of fish has got Ben feeling all Christmassy. He may have to get out his cod helmet.
- Abby came to the Birmingham live show and overheard the usher saying "I just didn't get what they were doing." Short and sweet review. Birmingham is now dead to Henry.
¶ Jingles
- America (Elvis Presley version) (3:22)
- The Regal Zone (10:34)
- Bean Machine (17:23)
- Pompidou (41:06)
- Patreon (1:05:36)
¶ Notable Quotes
- Nooooo. We thought the sewage system had sorted out Chabblers!
- I don't mind saying this: Jonathan Agnew has clearly murdered several people.
- You're actually called Jonathan Agnew [drawing in noise]. Yeah, take a toke on it, baby. It's good shit.
- Yeah, you've eaten a dog. And?
- Henry, why are you looking up recipes to slow-cook a husky? We're only 20 minutes outside of Southampton.
- If you're not sitting on the boot of the Hyundai i10 in the car park changing your footwear, you've gone wrong.
- I've never seen that happen between a man and dog before.
- She'll piss on piss but she won't roll in her own piss.
- Nothing is clear in the grey area I exist in. It's a kind of conceptual fog.
- The angry truth of a cloaca is so evident in a lift situation.
- The headline here is: Finally, there's a Pam apron.
- My eyes lit up at The Slime Line.
¶ Sean Bean Lounge
- Annual trip to, and tour of, the Partick Thistle stadium (24 patrons).
¶ Listener Theme Tune
- Jase from London with a John Carpenter theme: "Assault on Beancinct 13". Cool 70s horror synth vibes. You could be killed by a shaddock (would take ages) to this music (or a mattock), chased around a US suburban home or an abandoned area of a city by someone wearing a Nigel Havers mask. Henry Paker's "Music to be Mattocked By".