I've recently been trying to get my head around which rule the most- Letters or Numbers.
For sure, Letters are pretty important for communicating things from the very basic, like the rules to Deal Or No Deal, right up to high-falutin' stuff like the brainiacally brilliant Mike Reid's West End musical 'Wilde' that sadly closed after just one night.
"It's all a Numbers Game," he had bemoaned at the time, whilst contemplating the empty rows and rows of seats. And indeed it must have been. For I had read the original script due to being asked if I could help with funding (I couldn't) and frankly it blew Android Webber's drivel out of the proverbial. The Letters were all present and correct with that one. And, presumably, the words.
The number of letters is 26. The freakin same number as the number of boxes on my award-winning Channel 4 Show 'Deal Or No Deal'. And each letter is also a number. In binary.
Tuesday, 15 September 2009
Saturday, 5 September 2009
But the worst thing about TISWAS, in my opinion, was the parachuting of Lenny Henry to a position of influence.
Lenny Henry? Don't make me laugh, mate. Was that meant to be funny? Hasn't been relevant since way before my last style of beard. Mind you, I wouldn't find much to smile about being hitched to that fat fuck Dawn French. She must weigh about 40 STONES- that's the same number as my current apparent age (40), the unlikelihood of which convinces a lot of hopelessly lost people that there may be something in this Cosmic Ordering thing.
And when was Lenny Henry last on the telly? Having his poster dissed by Rickie Gervais, that's where! Twat!
Lenny Henry? Don't make me laugh, mate. Was that meant to be funny? Hasn't been relevant since way before my last style of beard. Mind you, I wouldn't find much to smile about being hitched to that fat fuck Dawn French. She must weigh about 40 STONES- that's the same number as my current apparent age (40), the unlikelihood of which convinces a lot of hopelessly lost people that there may be something in this Cosmic Ordering thing.
And when was Lenny Henry last on the telly? Having his poster dissed by Rickie Gervais, that's where! Twat!
REALLY BIG NUMBERS
The biggest number in the world is currently unknown and nobody has ever successfully counted
up to it. Yet.
The biggest number I have personally counted to was when I was projecting future royalty payments on my new book about Cosmic Ordering.
So I was quite frankly flabbergasted that, even with lots of experience with big numbers, Endemol cheated me out of hosting the pilot of their new media property- 'Who Wants To Count To A Million'? They'd given it to bloody Steve Wright In The Afternoon instead after pretty much telling me it was in the bag. Bastards!
Well, whatever. I couldn't give a flying fuck.
They'll soon come crawling back when they get complaints about how ugly he is.
up to it. Yet.
The biggest number I have personally counted to was when I was projecting future royalty payments on my new book about Cosmic Ordering.
So I was quite frankly flabbergasted that, even with lots of experience with big numbers, Endemol cheated me out of hosting the pilot of their new media property- 'Who Wants To Count To A Million'? They'd given it to bloody Steve Wright In The Afternoon instead after pretty much telling me it was in the bag. Bastards!
Well, whatever. I couldn't give a flying fuck.
They'll soon come crawling back when they get complaints about how ugly he is.
40
When people tell me '40,' what they're really meaning is my apparent age, which I have remained at since my mature and sensible, yet fun-loving crazy self (think youth activity centre manager) kept it wholesome on Swap Shop at a time when ITV were unleashing an unbridled torrent of filth that forever corrupted the kids. I'm talking TISWAS.
We kept ignoring it, plugging away at the Swap Shop roadshows and releasing that Hot Sauce record. We thought such depravity would just all blow over. But then the necessary restructuring of society on a more modern, corporate basis that Britain's Greatest Prime Minister, Margaret Dame Hilda Thatcher unleashed, led to a bewildering maelstrom of entrepreuneralism and coke mirrors, the high point of which was witnessing on a pub TV in London the good old British Bobby cracking the heads of subversive elements Somewhere up North. Our biggest companies and their lowliest employees were now freed from the tyranny of trade union practices, revolution and wage inflation. Somehow though, TISWAS slipped off the agenda. But not mine. Oh no. You're a dead man, Tarrant! Dead!
We kept ignoring it, plugging away at the Swap Shop roadshows and releasing that Hot Sauce record. We thought such depravity would just all blow over. But then the necessary restructuring of society on a more modern, corporate basis that Britain's Greatest Prime Minister, Margaret Dame Hilda Thatcher unleashed, led to a bewildering maelstrom of entrepreuneralism and coke mirrors, the high point of which was witnessing on a pub TV in London the good old British Bobby cracking the heads of subversive elements Somewhere up North. Our biggest companies and their lowliest employees were now freed from the tyranny of trade union practices, revolution and wage inflation. Somehow though, TISWAS slipped off the agenda. But not mine. Oh no. You're a dead man, Tarrant! Dead!
Cosmic Ordering with Amazon.co.uk
People say, "So Noel. You walk the walk these days, dude. Pretty much everyone now agrees that it was Blackburn who was a cunt all along. You've made the first ever seventh television comeback for someone with no obvious talent, save piloting helicopters. And now you've a book on Amazon worldwide with a 25% discount that's sure to be in Booksale in due course. What's it all about then? What do numbers really mean and how can I use them for my own selfish ends?"
To that, I say do me a favour and go buy the book.
But if I can, I will just introduce a basic concept here and use it as a patronizingly simplistic analogy to cosmic ordering that may just be disguising its vacuous core or crystallising its brilliant complexity (you can read it both ways- just like the word 'bottom' but hopefully not as unintentionally LOLworthy.)
So, imagine you've got this floor which you chuck your clothes on every night. Sure, they're probably Primark or charity shop, so what difference does a little mess make to your self esteem? It's negligible.
But you keep adding to that mess day by day, throughout your life, and sooner or later you're gonna lose your house keys, self respect, a small pet or family member and that's what Cosmic Ordering is not.
Cosmic Ordering is, in fact, the exact opposite."
To that, I say do me a favour and go buy the book.
But if I can, I will just introduce a basic concept here and use it as a patronizingly simplistic analogy to cosmic ordering that may just be disguising its vacuous core or crystallising its brilliant complexity (you can read it both ways- just like the word 'bottom' but hopefully not as unintentionally LOLworthy.)
So, imagine you've got this floor which you chuck your clothes on every night. Sure, they're probably Primark or charity shop, so what difference does a little mess make to your self esteem? It's negligible.
But you keep adding to that mess day by day, throughout your life, and sooner or later you're gonna lose your house keys, self respect, a small pet or family member and that's what Cosmic Ordering is not.
Cosmic Ordering is, in fact, the exact opposite."
To All The Haters!
Some cynics ask me- 'even with Cosmic Ordering working throughout your life, and everyone thinking you're great these days, how long in numbers do you realistically think this show can last?'
I say- look at Countdown. Over 20. Crap prizes, and so hard that you'd have to have an O Level in Thinking or something just to even find Channel 4 on those old tellies. Now that all the old squares are dying off in sympathy with Richard Whitely and everyone knows Channel 4 thanks to Big Brother, we've axed this embarrassing throwback (no, not DLT! Oo! Hope he's not watching!) and put on programmes made by the SAT tests generation for the SAT tests generation, where it's all about GTA and not GCE.
They don't need to know about thinking or sums and stuff. Leave that to digital calculators and Sudoku freaks. They just want their loopily quasi-mystical New Age random number generators to be accurate over half the time. And as much cold hard cash as their piggy arms can scoop up at once!
I say- look at Countdown. Over 20. Crap prizes, and so hard that you'd have to have an O Level in Thinking or something just to even find Channel 4 on those old tellies. Now that all the old squares are dying off in sympathy with Richard Whitely and everyone knows Channel 4 thanks to Big Brother, we've axed this embarrassing throwback (no, not DLT! Oo! Hope he's not watching!) and put on programmes made by the SAT tests generation for the SAT tests generation, where it's all about GTA and not GCE.
They don't need to know about thinking or sums and stuff. Leave that to digital calculators and Sudoku freaks. They just want their loopily quasi-mystical New Age random number generators to be accurate over half the time. And as much cold hard cash as their piggy arms can scoop up at once!
My Deeper Awakening into Numbers
You know, I first became consciously aware that numbers totally rule when I made my first million suing one of the sellers on Swap Shop. I'd agreed to purchase what was described as an as-new Kerpluk. But when I got it throught the post, it only had two marbles.
And later, in the aftermath of accusations that I had personally killed a member of the public on Live TV (we were showing VT of a furious Dave Lee Travis getting his twelfth gotcha at the time- one of our most elaborate yet!), numbers again became central to my existence.
The day I lost my job, I was walking down the street when something I had driven past in my Bentley a countless times caught my attention. The numbers on the cards in public phoneboxes throbbed with significance. Numbers taunted me with promises that a divine angel or some other angelic being could easily be conjured up at the hotel room door. And then nobbed inside. Twice if she didn't start crying.
Numerically, I added up all the numbers together in my wallet and it came to about £200, which was enough for two hours, all in. Ironically, the only thing I hadn't lost that day was the big fresh dollop of Noel's Creamy Man Milk churning in my balls. (And my iconic beard, of course!)
I shakily dialed the number- with my finger. Which is Itself a freaking digit. Which is Latin for 'finger'. And then I gave out yet another number- the office Visa card details.
* * Next- more fun about numbers * *
And later, in the aftermath of accusations that I had personally killed a member of the public on Live TV (we were showing VT of a furious Dave Lee Travis getting his twelfth gotcha at the time- one of our most elaborate yet!), numbers again became central to my existence.
The day I lost my job, I was walking down the street when something I had driven past in my Bentley a countless times caught my attention. The numbers on the cards in public phoneboxes throbbed with significance. Numbers taunted me with promises that a divine angel or some other angelic being could easily be conjured up at the hotel room door. And then nobbed inside. Twice if she didn't start crying.
Numerically, I added up all the numbers together in my wallet and it came to about £200, which was enough for two hours, all in. Ironically, the only thing I hadn't lost that day was the big fresh dollop of Noel's Creamy Man Milk churning in my balls. (And my iconic beard, of course!)
I shakily dialed the number- with my finger. Which is Itself a freaking digit. Which is Latin for 'finger'. And then I gave out yet another number- the office Visa card details.
* * Next- more fun about numbers * *
Revolution: Number Nine
The number nine has a deeply personal meaning for me- it's the most number of pints I have ever drunk in a pub before anyone admitted to recognising who I was. It was a real hoot trying to blend in and be 'normal', but pretty embarrassing for some of the crowd who witnessed me not quite reaching the toilet before being sick in a nearby umbrella.
Well, so fucking what.
They had asked for the appearance of danger and anarchy when we originally sold out, sticking it to the man on the then Munition Worker's Medium Wave National Broadcasting Wavelength Station.
Eventually, a new name was schemed up by none other than the scarily brainy Mike Read. 'One FM on Medium Wave' was truly born, and the teenage revolution could finally go coast to coast in over 6000 staggering roadshows, featuring a grand total of 4 different DJs over 27 sensational summers.
And who were they, these nutters of the airwaves? Yours truly, of course, the exceedingly bonkers DLT, Mike Reid, and then some jumped up little cunt who shall remain nameless here.
Nine is also, incidentally, the number of years that I think drug dealers should go down for if caught, at the very minimum. Scum!
Well, so fucking what.
They had asked for the appearance of danger and anarchy when we originally sold out, sticking it to the man on the then Munition Worker's Medium Wave National Broadcasting Wavelength Station.
Eventually, a new name was schemed up by none other than the scarily brainy Mike Read. 'One FM on Medium Wave' was truly born, and the teenage revolution could finally go coast to coast in over 6000 staggering roadshows, featuring a grand total of 4 different DJs over 27 sensational summers.
And who were they, these nutters of the airwaves? Yours truly, of course, the exceedingly bonkers DLT, Mike Reid, and then some jumped up little cunt who shall remain nameless here.
Nine is also, incidentally, the number of years that I think drug dealers should go down for if caught, at the very minimum. Scum!
Money's Too Tight To Mention
The budget for Deal Or No Deal is tiny by comparison: £98 quid a show!
I know! Crazy!
That wouldn't have even paid for Crinkley Bottom's custom made nappy in the 80s (my dealbreaker insistence that the studio be dominated by a gigantic comedy arse was, incidentally just a wheeze cooked up by me and DLT) The massive bum did make the salient point, however, that 'bottom' has many different meanings. Probably as many meanings as there are actual bottoms!
I need to say at this point, on a more serious note, that I want to lay to rest the various rumours about my own bottom which have hung maliciously in the air over the years. The fact is that the 'tail' seen swinging from my bottom in the tracking shots of me running around was categorically NOT part of a suffocating hamster stored in my poo hole. As me old mate DLT explained away at the time, it was merely the antennae of a radio transmitter used by the Floor Manager to tell me when to stop and start running.
I still laugh when I tell people this story, all these years later. And they laugh too. But only after I buy them 2 or 3 drinks each.
One final number I can reveal the meaning of: my viewing figures these days.
People are fucking morons!
I know! Crazy!
That wouldn't have even paid for Crinkley Bottom's custom made nappy in the 80s (my dealbreaker insistence that the studio be dominated by a gigantic comedy arse was, incidentally just a wheeze cooked up by me and DLT) The massive bum did make the salient point, however, that 'bottom' has many different meanings. Probably as many meanings as there are actual bottoms!
I need to say at this point, on a more serious note, that I want to lay to rest the various rumours about my own bottom which have hung maliciously in the air over the years. The fact is that the 'tail' seen swinging from my bottom in the tracking shots of me running around was categorically NOT part of a suffocating hamster stored in my poo hole. As me old mate DLT explained away at the time, it was merely the antennae of a radio transmitter used by the Floor Manager to tell me when to stop and start running.
I still laugh when I tell people this story, all these years later. And they laugh too. But only after I buy them 2 or 3 drinks each.
One final number I can reveal the meaning of: my viewing figures these days.
People are fucking morons!
How Numbers Change But Really Stay The Same
You know, I was contemplating before the show how numbers mean different things at different times. For Noel's House Party, for instance, we had a budget in the ballpark of £600 million per show. That's a lot of gunge! Plus, I had to hire lots of famous people to pretend to be visiting me at home, but it was really a studio mock-up of what I thought my house might be like if anyone ever came to one of my lavish do's. Besides DLT.
There'd be jelly! There'd be Frank Bruno! There'd be helicopter rides! Mandatory silliness! Lots of running around! But most of all, there'd be one crazily dangerous-looking stunt contraption as the centre-piece and show finale, manned by bored and inadequately-trained runners, dressed up like they were from in the olden days for a touch of gravitas. And that's exactly how I pitched it to the then Head of Light Entertainment. Who loved it, of course.
My primary goal, however, was to reach critical mass. With an average of 12 million viewers every week regularly tuning into my blather, my position as Britain's Number One Madcap Prankster would be unassailable and Tony Blackburn would be forced to admit to the country what a big fat failure he had been all along. Cut to the future- which is round about now.
There'd be jelly! There'd be Frank Bruno! There'd be helicopter rides! Mandatory silliness! Lots of running around! But most of all, there'd be one crazily dangerous-looking stunt contraption as the centre-piece and show finale, manned by bored and inadequately-trained runners, dressed up like they were from in the olden days for a touch of gravitas. And that's exactly how I pitched it to the then Head of Light Entertainment. Who loved it, of course.
My primary goal, however, was to reach critical mass. With an average of 12 million viewers every week regularly tuning into my blather, my position as Britain's Number One Madcap Prankster would be unassailable and Tony Blackburn would be forced to admit to the country what a big fat failure he had been all along. Cut to the future- which is round about now.
DISCLAIMER
While we're waiting for one of the great unwashed to be randomly self-selected through a computer, my legal representatives have asked me to point out that any promises of money are for entertainment purposes only, and in no way constitute a contract of any kind whatsoever. The use of the term 'Deal Or No Deal' in no way implies any relationship with or ... Read Moreknowledge of media properties with that name, or any other. All Production and Subliminal Programming delivered by Noel Edmunds and inspired by Beelzebub, Lord of Flies. Based on an idea that had seemed better on coke to be honest, but fuck it. Noel Edmunds is a fictitious character. Any resemblance to any persons living, dead or Enlightened is purely coincidental.
--
Ok. So. Hurry Up, proles and pick a box. Or it's gonna be just me waffling on and on and a dressing down for you lot back at the Fishponds Travelodge tonight. I'm talking withdrawal of minibar privileges. Except for Mr Edmunds, naturally. That's me, talking about myself in the third person. As if it somehow makes me any bloody taller.
--
Ok. So. Hurry Up, proles and pick a box. Or it's gonna be just me waffling on and on and a dressing down for you lot back at the Fishponds Travelodge tonight. I'm talking withdrawal of minibar privileges. Except for Mr Edmunds, naturally. That's me, talking about myself in the third person. As if it somehow makes me any bloody taller.
Deal?
WELCOME, PROLE.
Deal or No Deal when the Devil drives? Noel or No Way In Hell? 50 pence or 50,000 pounds?
Welcome to a new paradigm in interactive entertainment. A new milestone in the synthesis of man and machine.
The rules (as far as I can work out) are simple:
Pick a box between 1 and 26 & leave a reply stating your chosen number and email address (we must have a working email address to deliver your virtual illusory prize money).
We'll randomly pick a delusional member of the formerly working classes to open it, revealing a special number. It is special because it is money.
It could be any amount that does not actually exist- from 50p up to a whopping £150k of notional money. Just imagine what you could do with that. That's a lot of scratch cards.
Welcome to a grippingly interactive web 2.0 meta-narrative ironically inspired by the randomness and futility of all existence.
You'll no doubt be disappointed & I'll be mildly irritated at having to update. So, Deal or No Deal?
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