This your Dying Island Disc.....

April 03rd – You've probably had folk in the street stop you occasionally and ask a sometime bizarre question; you know, summat like;

“Would you like to see an end to world hunger?”

What are you going to answer?

“No, I’d like to see continued starvation, particularly for the old and vulnerable.”

No ’course not. It’s a non question-question. You hear it all the time in any news programme when the interviewer asks a politician a question to which there is really only one way to answer without looking like a raving loony. To make you look so out of step with the rest of humanity that the planet Tharg would seem your rightful home…

Safely ensconced in a cosmic straight-jacket…

Which gives you an electric shock to the sex-orbs every fifteen seconds until you come to your senses:

All compassion, me; they should put me in charge of the justice department.

However, I would hazard a guess what follows is a question you weren't expecting and for which you’ll have to think really hard about before answering: OK, ready? The scenario:

You’re relationship isn't all it should be, you've had just about all you can take from your partner and you’ve come to the conclusion, albeit reluctantly, that homicide is the only answer. You launch the attack. It’s successful. Your partner now lies on the shag-pile rug, mortally wounded, slowly, slowly expiring. The question is:

“What record would you play to your dying spouse to send from this world to the next?”

Hm?

Thought that’d tax you a little; didn't seem to tax Beulah Annan.

She did for her lover, Harry, then poured herself several cocktails and played ‘Hula Lou’ repeatedly as he lay gasping his last.

Have you heard the track? It’s a 1924 recording originally by Clarence M. Jones but also covered by Efim Schachmeister (don’t) and the delectable Betty Boop. It’s a sort of very early traditional jazz tune.

Now, personally I’m not a trad jazz fan; I liken it to what the deaf invented to get their own back on the hearing, but each to their own. So, having decided on the track to play let’s consider the choice of what to drink at this poignant moment in your life (not your partners, obviously). Well, having given it some thought and not wishing to sound callous, I’d find it hard to really enjoy ‘that Balvenie moment’ if the expiration of my beloved went on for too long. So, in a display of fellow-feeling, I would think repeated doses of ‘I Wish I Could Fly’ by Orville would at least hasten the demise of the victim…like a said, all compassion, me.