Wallace must surely at least piss in the Techno Trousers at some point while he’s trapped in them.
Does Feathers McGraw apply for the room because he saw Gromit out for walkies with the Techno Trousers and followed him home?
Good to see Juergen winding nuts all the way down a threaded bar on #gbbo. Not enough bakers have learned the lessons of the Hyatt Regency walkway collapse.
Why, in the face of all evidence, does it seem so possible to the viewer that the cooker from ‘A Grand Day Out’ will ski across the moon forever, never running out of credit?
The cooker in ‘A Grand Day Out’ carries on its face a reminder that it will soon cease to operate. Yet it seems unaffected by this semi-mortality. Is it the possibility of reactivation that makes it bearable, or is it the constant memento mori that brings acceptance?
The cooker in ‘A Grand Day Out’ protects the Moon from the actions of visitors—but only if those visitors pay to activate it. It is a sort of outsourced conscience. Is it any wonder it finds the role unfulfilling, and seeks joy elsewhere?
The cooker in ‘A Grand Day Out’ cannot see its dream clearly at first: it has to deliberately tune into it. So must we all.
The cooker in ‘A Grand Day Out’ seems to struggle on anything but the flattest terrain with its tiny wheels. Skiing, for the cooker, is not mere whimsy: it is freedom.
The cooker in A Grand Day Out might have been trapped in a permanent tableau of ineffectual violence—but Wallace chooses to insert another coin, without hope or expectation of reward, and it is redeemed.
Acting by force, the cooker in ‘A Grand Day Out’ doesn’t succeed in fulfilling its duty or taking what it thinks it needs. But by seeing clearly what it has and what it desires, it is able to achieve both happiness and forgiveness.