ill-advised by Bill Nighy
ill-advised by Bill Nighy

Irony Left The Building

18h ago26:343,900 words
0:000:00

Bill is back to answer your questions and in this episode he attempts to address dreams, diaries and baseball caps. As well as our regular features we debut our first contribution to 'According To You...

Transcript

EN

(upbeat music)

- Good morning, good afternoon, or good evening to Penny and we are on the planet. This is Bill Nye, and this is ill advised by Bill Nye,

and we're well into our third season now, who knew?

Those are words I thought I'd never say.

It's all a bit of a surprise, but we are in good shape. We were recently interviewed by the New York Times, concerning ill advised by Bill Nye, and the interview asked me at one point.

She said, I'm very surprised at how revealing you are about your personal life, and I thought really, because I don't remember anything I said, because I don't prepare in any way. As people have asked me, if I write the answers,

I don't write anything, I simply respond to the questions in real time as they are asked to me, and therefore my memory is shot anyway, but because I don't make notes or anything of that kind, I never remember what I've said,

so when people in the street say, I agree with you on so and so, I'm like, what? So I didn't know what she was talking about, and she said, well, you did say at one point that you were no good in bed,

which gave me so much pleasure. I don't really understand why it makes me so happy, that that's what I'd said, and I didn't remember saying it was she, then sent me the transcript of the whole quote,

which was something to do with salsa, dancing and how, if you dance in a salsa style,

you have to make hip movements that might suggest you're good in bed,

and I'm not good in bed, so I didn't want to start the day with a lie. That was the general quote,

and I blamed the third cup of coffee.

And I then thought later, that it placed me quite nicely outside what you might call the manus fear. But I mean, don't get me wrong. I'm frightened to women, but not that frightened. You know what I mean?

Our new feature for which we did not have a name when it was announced, it was concerning things that your grandmother might have said that we're worth remembering, and asking you to send them in, we do now have a name for it,

and it's simply called according to your grandmother. And according to your grandmother has gone boom, and lots of people have lots of grandmother's who said all kinds of stuff. One of them is from Anne, and it's on the question of tea,

which we like here, it's a big part of our vibe.

But I think I've discussed the word vibe

on earlier podcasts, so it's perfectly okay to use it. On the question of tea, on which Mr. Nye will surely admit, Irish people are the acknowledged experts. Well, steady.

I don't know that I would acknowledge that. I mean, they sure, they're enthusiasts, but I don't know that they are the one and only experts. There are many different kinds of tea. The Chinese might have something to say about that,

as with Japanese, but anyway, I know what you mean. I was at one point in my life addicted to berries, the heroin of tea. And when people hear of a certain age, continues Anne, see very strong tea, they say,

you could trot a mouse across that. I submit this as something my grandmother used to say, also two birds, one stone. Additionally, I am originally from Cork, and I put our here we are,

and I must put in a word for berries tea, which is the very best tea. Again, I might have an alternative to that, but we won't go into that right now. My grandmother used to call it conemarity,

God knows what they're doing in conemarity, and also that you could stand your spoon up in it, but that's a very common remark I think. Anyway, that was one of our contributions to according to your grandmother.

And I like it. We've got lots of questions, we've got millions of questions, and so let's get down to that now, and I will attempt to answer them without, as is the company policy,

not actually making things worse. - Hi Bill, this has come from South Carolina in the United States. My husband and I have been married for over 40 years. Occasionally, he talks in his sleep,

not just mumblings, but clear sentences and ideas. Here are a few examples. Number one, I'm going to brush you off, and then I'm going to let you go. Number two, if they can build a plane

that will stop on a dime, why can't they keep me warm? And number three, dialectic. My question is should I be impressed, amused, or alarmed?

- First of all, Kim, I love the way you talk.

If that's how they talk in South Carolina,

I'm going to come there and hang out in cafes and bars. I think you should be impressed. I think any, I mean, if you've been sleeping with a man for 40 years, and when he talks at his sleep, he says things like dialectics.

I think you can only take your hat off, if you're about an expression. I don't suppose you sleep in a hat,

but I think you should just congratulate him

in the morning and bring him a cup of coffee. As for, it is strange, and I think also, you shouldn't worry because, you know, what dreams are like, they've got nothing to do with anything.

Seems, I mean, people are always interpreting them,

but I think often it's just short-circuited nothing. And I love if they can build a plane that stops on a dime. - Hi, Bill. It's Zoe from London here. I'm wondering what the moral position is

on seeing someone's open diary lying around. Would you read it? Or leave it? It could be a lover, a friend, a family member. What to do?

Thank you. - Zoe, it's sacrosanct. You leave it. You don't read it.

If you read it, you open the floodgates.

You break the spell, it's a dangerous development.

And it lacks, obviously, respect and no good can come from it. It's like when somebody said, "My boyfriend went through my phone." It's over. Call a cab, go to the airport, get all of your stuff ready to move overnight. Have a friend bring the car around, get the out of there.

It's the line you can't cross, and it's similar to that. That's where I stand on that. - Hi, Bill. This is Dan Wase from New York City. Bill, how do you feel about the wearing

a backwards baseball caps? And what do you thoughts on hats in general? Thanks. - Hey, Dan. Thank you for your question.

And hello to New York, backwards baseball caps. Well, when it first started happening, I found it unsettling. It seemed a bit too self-conscious. And therefore, you know, regrettable.

But who am I to say? There is a language of baseball cap wearing, which I'm not party to, and I should shut up, because I don't know enough. And I don't move in those circles.

Hats generally, I used to be a big fan of hats.

And when I was younger, I would always buy a hat every year.

Every spring, I would go to somewhere, and I'd buy myself a kind of racing hat, which is a kind of trophy, or better still. My most successful hats are being humbugs. And if you were to go reaching out to sponsorship,

to lock and co in St. James's in Picadilly, they would make you the greatest humbug in the world. And you go there, and they have a small, it's not a machine, exactly. But a small object, which is hat-shaped,

but it's called, I think, a confiture.

And it's like the best way of describing it.

It's like a hat-shaped tight writer, old-style tight writer with keys. And they put it, it spreads as they put it on your head. It widens to take in the size we had. And there are spikes on the top,

and they take a piece of paper, and they place it on top, so that the holes through the spikes give them your size. And it's quite funky, having it done. And they put those bits of paper on the wall beside the workshop,

and they've got written under them. They've got, you know, the Arger Khan, or Justin Bieber, or Charles III, fifth, whatever, you know, all the famous people, Douglas Fairbanks, Junior, you know, and all kinds of people.

And it's quite good to have it done. But they make a humbug, which is very cool. But the problem with me and hats now, is that if I were, when I wore a humbug, when I was 33, it came under the title of ironic dressing.

There was irony involved, that I should wear, what would be an old man's hat. And it was kind of, kind of worked on a good day. It was difficult if your hair was too long, 'cause it just looks now.

But, and I used to like it, I used to like that look,

If you have to wear a suit with it, really,

'cause otherwise you just look, you look a bit too rock,

and I'm, you know, rock is my least favorite genre, which is where you get to leather trousers, which we're not going to go into today, because it exhausts me, just thinking about them. But then, as you get older and you get to my age,

irony leaves the building. And I'd just become an old man in a hat. And if you wear glasses, which I do obviously, then you're an old man in a patent glasses, which is not interesting.

So, I think hats are over for me.

I do own a white stetson, which I bought in a shop in Austin, Texas, which is probably unwearable in Pembleco, you know, I'm not that kind of guy. I wish I were, but I can't.

I wear it around the house sometimes, but that's as far as it's ever going to get. Hello Bill, this is Adam here from Buckhamshire. My question is quite straightforward.

The word ravishing, I think, is wonderful.

But my question is, is it still appropriate for modern day use? And if so, when, and how would you use it? Thanks a lot. Adam, I'm not sure I've ever actually used the word ravishing. I know when to use it.

It's when your lover steps away from the bed momentarily and is framed in the window overlooking the sand in Paris. And the moon is high, and it's just behind her, and her hair is disheveled, but enchanting. And I think that's the moment you say,

"Do you mind if I tell you that you look ravishing?" So that's when you say it. I think you're saying, is it socially acceptable? Yeah, come on, ravishing, it's beautiful, it's a great word. It's sort of somewhere near ravenous,

which does it know harm, that's fine, that all works. ravenous, ravishing, edible, soul working. It's time for banned words. The feature that perhaps above all features on ill advised went boom from the very beginning.

There are so many words that so many people want banned from the English or any other language, and way, way top of the list for this episode is the word "mate" as in, "You've got a time mate" or "Alow mate" which goes through me like a knife, it goes, it's a physical hurt. How many different ways can I say? I feel it, it's bad, and it's got to go.

And the next word is when I've never heard of.

You have to remember that mate for me is personal.

That's along with, you know, it's up there with young man when you're not young. But these next ones are not particularly mine, I'm just a mouthpiece, but they've been in front of the Permissions Committee and they've been deemed banneable. And the next word is "thinkery", yeah, you didn't even know that existed, did you? Well, it does, it's "thinkery", is when people get together for an idea's meeting.

And the comment here is "God awful", and I think I agree. And then there's another word I've never heard of, which is "Jeggings", which apparently was seen in a garden center in Woban's sands. And I think these are leggings made of jeans denim. The person who wanted this band says it needs to go now, please,

and then in parentheses as put, and just to hear bills say "Jeggings" will be worth it. So there you are. So I'm going to say it one more time, I'll just say that you get that hit. The word is "Jeggings". So there you are. I am familiar with this, and I agree it should go. The word is "guestimate", yeah, it's got to go.

I think we all agree. I can't imagine anybody saying, no, no, you've got to keep it in the English language.

I can't imagine anyone saying that. And the next one I have heard, and I hate it as much as Norma Kroger from Saskatoon, Saskatchewan Canada. And the word is "cremains", and she says, "Hello Bill", a word that I abhor is "cremains", and a polling shortening of "cremated remains", uttering "cremated remains" is not exhausting.

Says Norma, "It doesn't need to be shortened.

where I'm writing from. Or if it's been used more widely, it's been used more widely, Norma. To further remove all dignity from the deceased, there is a funeral home in my city called "Mourning Glory", "Good God Almighty", Norma. Thank you for bringing that up.

I think we banned that particular funeral home as well. Anyway, the word is "cremains",

and it no longer exists in the English or in the other language. And I hope that's a weight of your minds. That's a cue for this week's edition of our very popular feature, but you don't understand them like with the band, which has been popular, but we've also just like to say that we've had a lot of entries with band names, some of which are very good, as in, you know, God awful, but they haven't been any lyrics, and really what we like are lyrics, and what we really like are lyrics that aren't

any good. We're not really that keen on lyrics that are any good, so just to give you the tonal, a tonal nudge, no, not a tonal suggestion. But we've had a contribution this week from Liz

walked on, and she says "Dear Bill", when I was somewhere between 12 and 14 years old, during the

mid-1980s, my friend Kathy Crossfield and I created innovative and bold music together. Oh God, we use guitar piano, a dry rice shaker, and tape recordings of TV shows and adverts,

including the first UK television adverts for menstrual products. Interesting, Liz.

The name of our band was Marvel's and Mysteries of the Psychedelic World. Kathy was the Marvel. I was the mystery. We recorded several albums in inverted commas, generally filling both sides of a cassette tape. Unfortunately, the music has been lost to time. That's a shame, but I still recall some of the lyrics. Here's one lyric, and the lyric is, "Oh, look, there's a herd of freezing cows. It's rather cool lying here, a weird snail or a slug.

Everything is so low down here, half a biscuit. What I give to eat your hamburger now?" Well, that's gone down very well in the room, as they say. In the room, that's an absolute classic, and we like it a lot, and it's actually a shame that the music is lost to the world. But there you go, and that was this week's contribution to, "But you don't understand, I'm late with the band." It's now time for this week's this episode's playlist,

and the playlist is called "Beirfoot," she's heart-high, and the first song on the list is by

Phosphorescent, who is an American artist, and kind of, I mean, he is a country artist, but he's a country artist like no other country artist, and the song is called "The Mermaid Parade," and I like it for lots of reasons, but mostly I like it for the last few lines, which are, "I know all about your new man, your new older old man, and I heard that he's married. Oh, you'd be careful, Amanda. Yeah, I found a new friend too, and yeah, she's pretty, and she's small, but God dammit, Amanda.

God dammit all, which I just think works very well, and the next song is by Courtney Marie Andrews, and it's called "How You Get Hurt," and it's just a sweet, it's another country song.

It's got good lyrics like, do you remember that night in Nashville took you dancing with my friends?

Laura taught you how to two-step, then you took me for a spin. That's how you get hurt.

And it's a very, very successful country song, and the third song is by Johnny Gittar Watson,

a Gittar being an inverted commas, which I, it gives me pleasure, and it's called "Strong Out," and it's all the songs on this. This playlist is really just a float-down stream on it. They're all kind of slow numbers, and it'll give you, I don't know, half an hour of meditation, and a strong out is the song that I very much admire, and he's a brilliant guitar player, and the lyrics are kind of funny, and then the bill charlap trio or charlap trio, who I really like, who is the jazz,

I suppose you'd say a jazz pianist, and the song has got a really cool jazz t...

Can Really Hang You Up The Most," which I like, and the fifth song is the performance by Amy Wayne House and Paul Weller on the Jules Holland Show of the song "Don't Go to Strangers," where Paul Weller and Amy Wayne House do wet on the vocal for a great song, "Don't Go to Strangers,"

and she's so amazing and so is he, and I love. They also do, I don't know if it's on the same

show, but they also do, I heard it through the grapevine beautifully as well, and they do it on that, and I just love the relationship between, I don't know anything about the relationship between Paul Weller and Amy Wayne House, but the atmosphere, the kind of impression I get when I

watch them, and just the fact that they're singing together, I think there's a great deal of mutual

respect and admiration and affection. So anyway, it's touching and very moving for obvious reasons. Anyway, that's time for Book of the Week, or Book of the Episode, and this episode, it's a book called My Fantoms by

Gwendlin Riley. All of this information will be in the show notes, so you don't have to remember.

But I read this book sometime ago, and I've read since then, I think everything that Gwendlin Riley has written. Anyway, this is a short extract to let you know how well she writes. I can't know what my mother was like at work. It's still hard to imagine, or guess. She maintained that she, quote, hated her job. Everybody hates their job, bridge, she used to say, "Everybody does." Later, after she'd retired, she told me that going into the

office used to make a feel sick. Absolutely sick to my stomach, yeah. Why, I asked it. It just wasn't me, she said, frowning. It was the same with where we lived. That wasn't her, either. She just wasn't a suburbs person, she used to say, with a shake of her head. Still, there she was, in the house with the dark bay window, with the hydrangea bush by the bins. That what my mother did, or had done, was what, quote, "Everybody did," or what, quote,

"people did," was sovereign, that it was normal. She would pronounce that word with urgent emphasis. Other considerations didn't get much room. Her antipathy to her circumstances was no spur to change.

I think it was the opposite, in a way, back then. My mother loved rules. She loved rules and codes

and fixed expectations. I want to say, as a dog loves an airborne stick. Here was unleashed purpose, freedom of assort. Here too was the comfort of the crowd of joining in, of not feeling alone and in the wrong. In conversation or attempted conversation, her site seemed set on a similar prize. She enjoyed answering questions when she felt that she had the right answer, an approved answer. I understood that when I was very small and could provide the prompts accordingly, then talking

to her, was like a game, or a rhyme we were saying together. You hated being an only child, didn't you? I might say. And she would say, "Oh, yes, I hated it. Yes. And after I had Michel,

I knew I had to have another baby because I always vowed I could never just have one.

I think it's cruel to have just one." Or, what was your school uniform? I would ask,

not for the first time, when I was reading the list of things I needed for mine. Well, it was navy blue, the same, and you had a different color tie for each house and I was Windsor, which was yellow. Only we had to wear a hat, and every day I had to run past the orphanage morning and afternoon because they used to throw stones and run after you when they saw anyone from the grammar. One day I lost my hat. She painted a bagiling picture if you were susceptible

to that kind of thing. Lonely, only child, breathless little girl who had to do this and had to do that. I was not susceptible. But then, nor did I ever quite feel that I was the intended audience when she took on like this. There was some other figure she'd conceived and was playing to. That's how it felt. Somebody beyond our life.

That's my friend used to say, that's about the size of it.

Or rather, as Pete Poster thought it used to say to me, those were the days when we used to work

nights used to say. That's all we have for you today, but we're back soon with plenty more,

and we hope you enjoy everything, and remember it's nice to be important, but it's important to be nice.

Go in peace with all my weary disco and love. Don't forget to disco.

Above all things, shake your ass in the face of self-doubt.

Ill-advised by Bill 90 is produced by Alice Williams and Keara Grigori with a system production

by Anjaliq Somers, pronounced Somers, and Charlotte Ross, pronounced Ross, and it's an iPod

Studios production. There's Posh.

Compare and Explore