Animated
Award winning animation studio Pixar, who brought us Toy Story and Finding Nemo amongst others and who have seriously pushed the envelope of computer animation have split from their deal with Disney, who distribute Pixar's movies. Pixar are unhappy over the amount of takings Disney claim as their share. As they have generated over $2.5 billion since 1995 even a percentage counts for a whole hell of a lot.
Friday, January 30, 2004
Nail 'em up!
Scary Christians whipping up support for Bush's re-election campaign. What has the Religon of Love and Peace got to do with a war-mongering, corrupt tool of business who'd not only set up money lending in the temple but let them drill for oil too? Well, these good, Gold-fearin' chums of Jesus are homophobic, bigoted, bastards, so I guess the link becomes clearer... These are the organisations that exert huge influence on US politics and hence on the rest of the world. I'm telling you, people, the Romans were right - nail the bugger up! Nail some sense into them!!! Feed them to the lions!
Scary Christians whipping up support for Bush's re-election campaign. What has the Religon of Love and Peace got to do with a war-mongering, corrupt tool of business who'd not only set up money lending in the temple but let them drill for oil too? Well, these good, Gold-fearin' chums of Jesus are homophobic, bigoted, bastards, so I guess the link becomes clearer... These are the organisations that exert huge influence on US politics and hence on the rest of the world. I'm telling you, people, the Romans were right - nail the bugger up! Nail some sense into them!!! Feed them to the lions!
Slither....
A pissed of man in Africa decided to take revenge on his bank after his car was repossesed. Here in the UK we get an irritated farmer deploying his muck spreader over the bank. In Africa the guy walks in and opens a bag to let out a gaggle of poisonous snakes!
A pissed of man in Africa decided to take revenge on his bank after his car was repossesed. Here in the UK we get an irritated farmer deploying his muck spreader over the bank. In Africa the guy walks in and opens a bag to let out a gaggle of poisonous snakes!
Word Association
Instead of just doing the weekly ones from Luminal I thought I'd try my own this week. Please feel free to have a go yourself - remember it must be the first word or phrase that comes to mind. I'll post my own later.
Heamaglobin:
Toblerone:
Penguin:
Bottom:
Sideways:
Bellybutton:
Antidisestablishmenterialism:
Hutton:
Enquiry:
Whitewash:
Instead of just doing the weekly ones from Luminal I thought I'd try my own this week. Please feel free to have a go yourself - remember it must be the first word or phrase that comes to mind. I'll post my own later.
Heamaglobin:
Toblerone:
Penguin:
Bottom:
Sideways:
Bellybutton:
Antidisestablishmenterialism:
Hutton:
Enquiry:
Whitewash:
H u t t o n – T h e M u s i c a l
Coming soon to the West End, Broadway and Peebles Community Meeting Hall
All-singing, all-dancing political satire with a groovy beat!
Featuring the hit songs:
Who Do You Think You Are Kidding, Mister Campbell?
Pack up all your Allegations in your Old Kit Bag and Smile, Smile, Smile
Alistair Campbell’s Lackies Sing This Song, Doo-dah, doo-dah
The Whitehall Whitewash Waltz
I’m Dreaming of a Whitewashed Report
Hoon, Hoon on the Range
Apathy in the UK
The BBC Blues
And a very special feature solo by Tony Blair singing I should be so Lucky
Also featuring the gyrations of the Dyke’s Dodgy Dossier Disco-Dancers and the Blair’s Boogie Woogie Crew
Music and Lyrics by Tim Rice, Mark Thomas and Joe
© Woolamaloo Media, 2004.
No ministers were harmed in the making of this musical report
Coming soon to the West End, Broadway and Peebles Community Meeting Hall
All-singing, all-dancing political satire with a groovy beat!
Featuring the hit songs:
Who Do You Think You Are Kidding, Mister Campbell?
Pack up all your Allegations in your Old Kit Bag and Smile, Smile, Smile
Alistair Campbell’s Lackies Sing This Song, Doo-dah, doo-dah
The Whitehall Whitewash Waltz
I’m Dreaming of a Whitewashed Report
Hoon, Hoon on the Range
Apathy in the UK
The BBC Blues
And a very special feature solo by Tony Blair singing I should be so Lucky
Also featuring the gyrations of the Dyke’s Dodgy Dossier Disco-Dancers and the Blair’s Boogie Woogie Crew
Music and Lyrics by Tim Rice, Mark Thomas and Joe
© Woolamaloo Media, 2004.
No ministers were harmed in the making of this musical report
She walks in beauty like the night
Of cloudless climes and starry skies;
And all that’s best of dark and bright
Meet in her aspect and her eyes;
Thus mellow’d to that tender light
Which heaven to gaudy day denies.
On shade the more, one ray the less,
Had half impair’d the nameless grace
Which waves in every raven tress,
Or softly lightens o’er her face;
Where thoughts serenely sweet express
How pure their dwelling place.
And on that cheek, and o’er that brow,
So soft, so calm, yet eloquent,
The smiles that win, the tints that glow,
But tells of days in goodness spent,
A mind at peace with all below,
A heart whose love is innocent!
George Gordon, Lord Byron (one of my clansmen, thank you - explains my love of pirate shirts with big, flouncy sleeves I reckon)
Of cloudless climes and starry skies;
And all that’s best of dark and bright
Meet in her aspect and her eyes;
Thus mellow’d to that tender light
Which heaven to gaudy day denies.
On shade the more, one ray the less,
Had half impair’d the nameless grace
Which waves in every raven tress,
Or softly lightens o’er her face;
Where thoughts serenely sweet express
How pure their dwelling place.
And on that cheek, and o’er that brow,
So soft, so calm, yet eloquent,
The smiles that win, the tints that glow,
But tells of days in goodness spent,
A mind at peace with all below,
A heart whose love is innocent!
George Gordon, Lord Byron (one of my clansmen, thank you - explains my love of pirate shirts with big, flouncy sleeves I reckon)
Thursday, January 29, 2004
Books with bite
First SF Book Club of 2004 this week. Between the hiatus from November and the fact the weather was cold and awful we thought we'd get hardly anyone. Instead we got our best turnout yet, around twenty odd folk. Is word of mouth getting around or was it just the choice of book? Time will tell.
It was pretty rewarding anyway and good fun as usual. We were discussing Anne Rice's classic Interview With the Vampire and the evening covered immortality, morality and other important topics such as why do vampires always wear white shirts with big colalrs when they know they're going to get blood all over them and just how do they get those stains out? Especially considering many of them were hanging around long before washing machines or biological Bold. My theory was that poor Renfield-type characters have to spend hours in the dalylight when the master sleeps hand-scrubbing the blood stains out of the shirts and then forcing them through a mangle.
The things you learn in a bookstore.
First SF Book Club of 2004 this week. Between the hiatus from November and the fact the weather was cold and awful we thought we'd get hardly anyone. Instead we got our best turnout yet, around twenty odd folk. Is word of mouth getting around or was it just the choice of book? Time will tell.
It was pretty rewarding anyway and good fun as usual. We were discussing Anne Rice's classic Interview With the Vampire and the evening covered immortality, morality and other important topics such as why do vampires always wear white shirts with big colalrs when they know they're going to get blood all over them and just how do they get those stains out? Especially considering many of them were hanging around long before washing machines or biological Bold. My theory was that poor Renfield-type characters have to spend hours in the dalylight when the master sleeps hand-scrubbing the blood stains out of the shirts and then forcing them through a mangle.
The things you learn in a bookstore.
Spliffin'
Scotland's first cannabis cafe opened in Leith, the port of Edinburgh today. The Purple Haze Cafe is right round the corner from where I was working a few months back when I was helping set up the new Waterstone's in Leith's Ocean Terminal and I passed it every day. It became an open hash bar today as the government moved the drug down to a Class C substance. Still illegal but less of a priority, leaving police free to tackle more important substances like heroin, which makes sense to me.
Still, it is illegal and a large number of plods turned up predictably (as did Tommy Sheridan, Scottish Socialist MSP, pretty predictably too) and finally some folk were arrested. The government is said to be spending millions on advising the public about cannabis now it has been re-classified. In brief this Department of Health release informs us:
Cannabis is still illegal, so smoke it in corners at parties, not in the street.
Cannabis can have detrimental effects on your health. We're not really sure what they are and we do know they are way below the effects of government licensed legal toxins such as alcohol or tobacco (or even exhaust fumes from internal combustion engines).
You may find your mind expanding under the drug's influence and realise deep philosophical truths mankind has sought after for millennia. Just be prepared to forget them all when you wake up next day and do check you coffee mug for dips before drinking from it.
On the back of the leaflet are more important facts you should be aware of, including a list of 24-hour stores and petrol stations in your area that you can call on when you get the munchies at 4am.
Scotland's first cannabis cafe opened in Leith, the port of Edinburgh today. The Purple Haze Cafe is right round the corner from where I was working a few months back when I was helping set up the new Waterstone's in Leith's Ocean Terminal and I passed it every day. It became an open hash bar today as the government moved the drug down to a Class C substance. Still illegal but less of a priority, leaving police free to tackle more important substances like heroin, which makes sense to me.
Still, it is illegal and a large number of plods turned up predictably (as did Tommy Sheridan, Scottish Socialist MSP, pretty predictably too) and finally some folk were arrested. The government is said to be spending millions on advising the public about cannabis now it has been re-classified. In brief this Department of Health release informs us:
Cannabis is still illegal, so smoke it in corners at parties, not in the street.
Cannabis can have detrimental effects on your health. We're not really sure what they are and we do know they are way below the effects of government licensed legal toxins such as alcohol or tobacco (or even exhaust fumes from internal combustion engines).
You may find your mind expanding under the drug's influence and realise deep philosophical truths mankind has sought after for millennia. Just be prepared to forget them all when you wake up next day and do check you coffee mug for dips before drinking from it.
On the back of the leaflet are more important facts you should be aware of, including a list of 24-hour stores and petrol stations in your area that you can call on when you get the munchies at 4am.
RESIGNATION
We at the Woolamaloo Gazette and the Woolamaloo Broadcasting Coproration would like to assure that our editor-in-chief will not be resigning any time in the near future, despite attacks on some of our groundbreaking stories which so upset those in authority. When challenged by Alastair Campbell to resign over the Woolamaloo's scoop 'Alistair Campbell sacrifices babies to Bal to make report go well for him' and our related story 'Tony Blair has photographs of Lord Hutton fisting the Queen, threatens to release them if not exhonerated' the editor in chief replied 'eat smeg and die, Spin Demon', before breaking a bottle of wine and waving the jagged end in his face and asking him to come ahead if he thought he was hard enough (our editorial team were trained at the Glasgow School of Investigative Journalism).
Some critics from New Labour have complained that the Woolamaloo Gazette has been biased against them since they took power and that we were pursuing our own agenda. We here say, hand on our hearts, that we are biased only against wankers, bastards and lying, manipulating scum. As for the agenda, well they have us there - we do have an agenda; it is to pursue these buggers mercilessly and lampoon and satarise the bastards until they bleed. Well, we can't expect Mark Thomas to do it all, can we? We at the Gazette stand for Truth, Social Justice, International Understanding and Taking the Piss. We are committed to this mission ethos and will pursue it with every sarcastic fibre of our being for as long as the wankers hold power anywhere in any land in the world.
On which topic I'd like to direct you to something my mate Matthew highlighted from the excellent Riverbend's Baghdad Burning blog: the threat of Shari'a Law replacing independent justice in Iraq and the fact that no-one in the western media seems to be covering this story. Nope, no sarcastic take here, just read it, it's important. Our leaders are still pretending we liberated the Iraqis, yet here is the American-appointed, undemocratic Ruling Council about to plunge the women of Iraq back to the middle ages and no-one here seems to know or care.
We at the Woolamaloo Gazette and the Woolamaloo Broadcasting Coproration would like to assure that our editor-in-chief will not be resigning any time in the near future, despite attacks on some of our groundbreaking stories which so upset those in authority. When challenged by Alastair Campbell to resign over the Woolamaloo's scoop 'Alistair Campbell sacrifices babies to Bal to make report go well for him' and our related story 'Tony Blair has photographs of Lord Hutton fisting the Queen, threatens to release them if not exhonerated' the editor in chief replied 'eat smeg and die, Spin Demon', before breaking a bottle of wine and waving the jagged end in his face and asking him to come ahead if he thought he was hard enough (our editorial team were trained at the Glasgow School of Investigative Journalism).
Some critics from New Labour have complained that the Woolamaloo Gazette has been biased against them since they took power and that we were pursuing our own agenda. We here say, hand on our hearts, that we are biased only against wankers, bastards and lying, manipulating scum. As for the agenda, well they have us there - we do have an agenda; it is to pursue these buggers mercilessly and lampoon and satarise the bastards until they bleed. Well, we can't expect Mark Thomas to do it all, can we? We at the Gazette stand for Truth, Social Justice, International Understanding and Taking the Piss. We are committed to this mission ethos and will pursue it with every sarcastic fibre of our being for as long as the wankers hold power anywhere in any land in the world.
On which topic I'd like to direct you to something my mate Matthew highlighted from the excellent Riverbend's Baghdad Burning blog: the threat of Shari'a Law replacing independent justice in Iraq and the fact that no-one in the western media seems to be covering this story. Nope, no sarcastic take here, just read it, it's important. Our leaders are still pretending we liberated the Iraqis, yet here is the American-appointed, undemocratic Ruling Council about to plunge the women of Iraq back to the middle ages and no-one here seems to know or care.
Paint it white
This bloody Hutton report (yes, still ranting on about it). It is going to go down in history with the Warren Commission, isn't it? Utterly innefective, totally biased and acheiving nothing except to leave the public feeling those in power have just screwed us over again. What happens now in terms of the BBC charter being renewed will be ineresting...
Honestly, I have never seen so much whitewashing since I last called in on Huck Finn and Tom Sawyer as they stood in front of their fence, brushes in hand...
This bloody Hutton report (yes, still ranting on about it). It is going to go down in history with the Warren Commission, isn't it? Utterly innefective, totally biased and acheiving nothing except to leave the public feeling those in power have just screwed us over again. What happens now in terms of the BBC charter being renewed will be ineresting...
Honestly, I have never seen so much whitewashing since I last called in on Huck Finn and Tom Sawyer as they stood in front of their fence, brushes in hand...
Wednesday, January 28, 2004
Books, glorious FREE books
Ah, the proof of the second volume of Neal Stephenson's new series, the Confusion arrived today, courtesey of Alan from Random House. Another massive tome, just as the first installment, the amazing Quicksilver, was. And even better it is SIGNED! Woohoo, happy bookseller!
Amazing book, Stephenson's writing is wonderfully rich - not only his imagination but his excellent descriptive powers and a range of metaphors and synonyms that would make even Will Self weep with envy (I'm sure Matthew will back me up here). His lenghty description of a Restoration rake's dandy clothes was hilarious and biting and the pseudo-historical styling of some of the prose - such as the lisitng of the minutes of the Royal Society's experiments - gives a lovely touch and often an amusing one. And the period in Quicksilver, the Restoration era - characters like a young Ben Franklin, Isaac Newton, Pepys... It is a fascinating period of history and reminds me very much of the biography of Doctor John Dee I read a couple of years back. It is the emergence of the modern, Western scientific methodology, yet these people still have feet partly set in the Old World of Alchemy. Magic, science, politics and intrigues, all of which lead to the Englightenment and shaped the modern world. And as a bonus the same publisher's rep had an advance proof of a scientific history on exactly this period and the emergence of the modern mind... Now all I need is time to fit it all in... Oh and that big history of the Scottish enlightenment... And all the other books I want to read and must read...
Ah, the proof of the second volume of Neal Stephenson's new series, the Confusion arrived today, courtesey of Alan from Random House. Another massive tome, just as the first installment, the amazing Quicksilver, was. And even better it is SIGNED! Woohoo, happy bookseller!
Amazing book, Stephenson's writing is wonderfully rich - not only his imagination but his excellent descriptive powers and a range of metaphors and synonyms that would make even Will Self weep with envy (I'm sure Matthew will back me up here). His lenghty description of a Restoration rake's dandy clothes was hilarious and biting and the pseudo-historical styling of some of the prose - such as the lisitng of the minutes of the Royal Society's experiments - gives a lovely touch and often an amusing one. And the period in Quicksilver, the Restoration era - characters like a young Ben Franklin, Isaac Newton, Pepys... It is a fascinating period of history and reminds me very much of the biography of Doctor John Dee I read a couple of years back. It is the emergence of the modern, Western scientific methodology, yet these people still have feet partly set in the Old World of Alchemy. Magic, science, politics and intrigues, all of which lead to the Englightenment and shaped the modern world. And as a bonus the same publisher's rep had an advance proof of a scientific history on exactly this period and the emergence of the modern mind... Now all I need is time to fit it all in... Oh and that big history of the Scottish enlightenment... And all the other books I want to read and must read...
This week's word association from Subliminal (via my chum Sweet Rouge who seems to be the happiest - and horniest - little bunny on the planet right now (go for it, groover!):
- Political::anarchy (in the UK preferably)
- Concentration:: camp
- Fish:: cat food
- Lunacy:: most enjoyable
- Red:: blood
- Imply:: an adverb meaning 'to have the quality of an imp'
- Recognize:: incognito
- Sexist:: pig
- Commercial:: whore
- Stricken:: with the blues, if only it were love
Gondor in Edinburgh?
Dear readers, after some serious field research by your dutiful Woolamaloo Gazette editor I have found hard evidence that Tolkien's Kingdom of Gondor was once on the spot where Edinburgh now sits. Which is why, braving snowstorms, I found the White Tree of Gondor in the West End of Edinburgh and reproduce here for you the visual evidence. I only hope the current alleged heir to the Stewart throne, the so-called Prince Micahel Stewart of Albany, supposedly a descendant of Bonnie Prince Charlie, doesn't see this as a sign that it's time for the Return of the King. Coz he's a wee short Belgian bloke and that wouldn't be quite the same as Aragorn for a monarch now, would it?
Dear readers, after some serious field research by your dutiful Woolamaloo Gazette editor I have found hard evidence that Tolkien's Kingdom of Gondor was once on the spot where Edinburgh now sits. Which is why, braving snowstorms, I found the White Tree of Gondor in the West End of Edinburgh and reproduce here for you the visual evidence. I only hope the current alleged heir to the Stewart throne, the so-called Prince Micahel Stewart of Albany, supposedly a descendant of Bonnie Prince Charlie, doesn't see this as a sign that it's time for the Return of the King. Coz he's a wee short Belgian bloke and that wouldn't be quite the same as Aragorn for a monarch now, would it?
S n o w!
At last, after a mild, mild winter which just ain't right (like msot Celts I'm suspicious of any winter where I don't have icicles hanging from my ears, it makes me feel something is deeply wrong) we've been hit with some serious winter weather. Some good snow over Edinburgh today, but then it started to clear up just before I went home. Lucky me, it started snowing heavily as I walked home. Walking in snow is fabulous!
At last, after a mild, mild winter which just ain't right (like msot Celts I'm suspicious of any winter where I don't have icicles hanging from my ears, it makes me feel something is deeply wrong) we've been hit with some serious winter weather. Some good snow over Edinburgh today, but then it started to clear up just before I went home. Lucky me, it started snowing heavily as I walked home. Walking in snow is fabulous!
Hey, Rikki!
Not unexpected, but still a blow to Scotland - Rikki Fulton, a national institution in Scotland, passed away last night after a career which ran from the 1940s through to the 1990s. His many characters on TV and stage were utterly loved and adored by several generations of Scots and the New Year's annual fix of Scotch and Wry was something I always looked forward to.
Even now, several years after his retirement books on his most cherished creation, the Reverend I M Jolly (the most miserable Church of Scotland minister in the land) featured in two books co-written by long-time friend and fellow actor Tony Roper which have been huge sellers over two Xmas seasons in Scottish bookstores and demand for his autobiography was also strong. I have many happy memories of laughing with my parents at Rikki's creations. That generation of comedians who learned their craft in the theatres and vaudeville-style shows are almsot all gone now. Some came in and out of fashion as tastes changed over the decades, but Rikki was always loved without fail in his native land, something few can claim, entertainer or otherwise. You made me and millions of others laugh, Rikki, one of the hardest things to do and one of the most precious gifts one person can give to another. He made people happy - isn't that a wonderful way to remember someone?
Apparently all Scottish motorbike cops will, on Sunday at 11am, stop their engines, remove thier goggles and then let the elastic snap them back like a catapult in honour of Rikki. Rumours that Pastor Jack Glass is going to play the Rev. I M Jollyin a charity benefit gig are unconfirmed at this time. And those of you who don't know your Scotch and Wry are wondering what I'm talking about now! Indeed one young, English colleague asked who he was, venturing to say 'is he that Rikki fmor the Office?' Boy, did she miss out, as Uncle Zaphod would say.
Not unexpected, but still a blow to Scotland - Rikki Fulton, a national institution in Scotland, passed away last night after a career which ran from the 1940s through to the 1990s. His many characters on TV and stage were utterly loved and adored by several generations of Scots and the New Year's annual fix of Scotch and Wry was something I always looked forward to.
Even now, several years after his retirement books on his most cherished creation, the Reverend I M Jolly (the most miserable Church of Scotland minister in the land) featured in two books co-written by long-time friend and fellow actor Tony Roper which have been huge sellers over two Xmas seasons in Scottish bookstores and demand for his autobiography was also strong. I have many happy memories of laughing with my parents at Rikki's creations. That generation of comedians who learned their craft in the theatres and vaudeville-style shows are almsot all gone now. Some came in and out of fashion as tastes changed over the decades, but Rikki was always loved without fail in his native land, something few can claim, entertainer or otherwise. You made me and millions of others laugh, Rikki, one of the hardest things to do and one of the most precious gifts one person can give to another. He made people happy - isn't that a wonderful way to remember someone?
Apparently all Scottish motorbike cops will, on Sunday at 11am, stop their engines, remove thier goggles and then let the elastic snap them back like a catapult in honour of Rikki. Rumours that Pastor Jack Glass is going to play the Rev. I M Jollyin a charity benefit gig are unconfirmed at this time. And those of you who don't know your Scotch and Wry are wondering what I'm talking about now! Indeed one young, English colleague asked who he was, venturing to say 'is he that Rikki fmor the Office?' Boy, did she miss out, as Uncle Zaphod would say.
Blockbuster
Who the bloody smegging hell helped Hutton write his report? Was it the same group of people worked on the Warren Comission who proved that Kennedy and the Texas Senator were all shot by a single magic bullet fired by Oswald? Tony Blair, his government and, even more incredibly, Alastair Campbell, the most evil and canniving of all the evil gang of sub-humanoids sent by the Lord of Hades to plague mankind (that's Spin Doctors I'm talking about in case you didn't get it) are ALL TOTALLY FUCKING INNOCENT, FRESH, FRAGRANT!!!!! THE BBC ARE THE SPAWN OF EVIL ATTACKING THAT POOR MR BLAIR....
Does anyone with a brain and eyes still believe a fucking word of what's going on here? No wonder there are so many consporacy theorists out there when shit like this is pulled on the public. Blair's still pretending to be a man of the people while fucking every student in the land, being a good leader while taking his own party to the edge of destructionto satisfy his own ego, pretending to be a civlised man while sneind British forces out on an unprovoked war of agression and pretending it was all for our own good and that those pesky weapons we went to war to defend the world against will turn up anyday... He's been taking lessons from that smeghead Bush in artificial reality poltiics, hasn't he?
Okay, the Beeb fucked up seriously in the way they handled the whole tale. However they did, as public service broadcasters, have to report the allegations. And given the utter lack of WMDs found, still a relevant story. And frankly, I cannot believe for a moment that Campbell's spin office did not have a hand on the whole Dr Kelly name leaking. Nothing, but nothing is released by this paranoid and control-freak led government without going through a carfeul airbrushing from what was then Campbell's office. And if he was in on it then so was Blair since he faithfully reports all to his master.
Paranoid? Look at it this way - Blair just this week took his own party to within 5 votes of defeat and possible government collapse over student top up fees and variable charging at universities. When your party has a majority in parliament which runs way into three figures then coming within 5 votes of defeat takes some skill. And shame on almost all of the Scottish Labour MPs who voted for Blair to save his worthless ass - including my own MP Alistair Campbell (the same one i pillorried a few months back for not even being able to recall we have a parliamen tin Scotland and not a mere 'assembly' even although it sits inside his constituency). Shame on you all for abandoning all of your principles and those your apry stood for for decades to protect your political careers. And Blair? Well, not doing all of this was a MANIFESTO PROMISE! He promised the British people if elected again he would not do this. He was then prepared to split the government over it. HE LIED! Yes, folks, he fucking lied and broke a promise. Now how can we possibly beleive anything now from or about a man who cannot keep his word?
I'm now waiting ont he blockbuster, four-hour movie that Oliver Stone is going to make of the whole thing... "Blair and to the right...Blair and to the right..."
The BBC - yes those pesky evil doers who I still trust more than any government on the planet - have the entire report available to download here.
Who the bloody smegging hell helped Hutton write his report? Was it the same group of people worked on the Warren Comission who proved that Kennedy and the Texas Senator were all shot by a single magic bullet fired by Oswald? Tony Blair, his government and, even more incredibly, Alastair Campbell, the most evil and canniving of all the evil gang of sub-humanoids sent by the Lord of Hades to plague mankind (that's Spin Doctors I'm talking about in case you didn't get it) are ALL TOTALLY FUCKING INNOCENT, FRESH, FRAGRANT!!!!! THE BBC ARE THE SPAWN OF EVIL ATTACKING THAT POOR MR BLAIR....
Does anyone with a brain and eyes still believe a fucking word of what's going on here? No wonder there are so many consporacy theorists out there when shit like this is pulled on the public. Blair's still pretending to be a man of the people while fucking every student in the land, being a good leader while taking his own party to the edge of destructionto satisfy his own ego, pretending to be a civlised man while sneind British forces out on an unprovoked war of agression and pretending it was all for our own good and that those pesky weapons we went to war to defend the world against will turn up anyday... He's been taking lessons from that smeghead Bush in artificial reality poltiics, hasn't he?
Okay, the Beeb fucked up seriously in the way they handled the whole tale. However they did, as public service broadcasters, have to report the allegations. And given the utter lack of WMDs found, still a relevant story. And frankly, I cannot believe for a moment that Campbell's spin office did not have a hand on the whole Dr Kelly name leaking. Nothing, but nothing is released by this paranoid and control-freak led government without going through a carfeul airbrushing from what was then Campbell's office. And if he was in on it then so was Blair since he faithfully reports all to his master.
Paranoid? Look at it this way - Blair just this week took his own party to within 5 votes of defeat and possible government collapse over student top up fees and variable charging at universities. When your party has a majority in parliament which runs way into three figures then coming within 5 votes of defeat takes some skill. And shame on almost all of the Scottish Labour MPs who voted for Blair to save his worthless ass - including my own MP Alistair Campbell (the same one i pillorried a few months back for not even being able to recall we have a parliamen tin Scotland and not a mere 'assembly' even although it sits inside his constituency). Shame on you all for abandoning all of your principles and those your apry stood for for decades to protect your political careers. And Blair? Well, not doing all of this was a MANIFESTO PROMISE! He promised the British people if elected again he would not do this. He was then prepared to split the government over it. HE LIED! Yes, folks, he fucking lied and broke a promise. Now how can we possibly beleive anything now from or about a man who cannot keep his word?
I'm now waiting ont he blockbuster, four-hour movie that Oliver Stone is going to make of the whole thing... "Blair and to the right...Blair and to the right..."
The BBC - yes those pesky evil doers who I still trust more than any government on the planet - have the entire report available to download here.
Monday, January 26, 2004
Rock and roll
Well, rock anyway. An Aberdeenshire man (north-east Scotland for the non-Brits amongst you) has found a tiny fossil which has proved to be the remains of the oldest air-breathing creature so far found on Earth. Some 428 million years or so, give or take a few million. So easy to say the number, isn't it? So much harder to actually conceive of what it really means. For a human centuries or millennia are a long time(even for we Scots, and we reckon time on the long scale with our history). Millions? Hundreds of millions? An Earth we would scarecely recognise, yet it is indeed our home, in it's early stages; still a cradle, growing life, just like this tiny specimen. The first air-breather. Our ancestor reaching across eons of deep time to us.
Well, rock anyway. An Aberdeenshire man (north-east Scotland for the non-Brits amongst you) has found a tiny fossil which has proved to be the remains of the oldest air-breathing creature so far found on Earth. Some 428 million years or so, give or take a few million. So easy to say the number, isn't it? So much harder to actually conceive of what it really means. For a human centuries or millennia are a long time(even for we Scots, and we reckon time on the long scale with our history). Millions? Hundreds of millions? An Earth we would scarecely recognise, yet it is indeed our home, in it's early stages; still a cradle, growing life, just like this tiny specimen. The first air-breather. Our ancestor reaching across eons of deep time to us.
Sunset over the city
The sun had just set over Edinburgh as I left work this evening. Gathering gloom as darkness falls, lights one across the city and yet still there is some light fading light in the sky. So I took out my new toy and thought I'd try a couple of pictures to see what worked. This is the Castle, standing sentinel over Edinburgh atop the great volcanic rock and the Scott Monument, the largest monument to an author int he world. The carvings on this mock-Gothic version of Thunderbird 3 are incredibly intricate (and delicate to preserve), featuring a vast cast of characters from Walter Scott's novels in stone. The foundations alone go over 40 feet down into the Scottish bedrock - did the Victorians know how to build to last or what?
Sometimes the workaday week is a grind and life seems a pointless routine. But then I think of how I pass an enormous, history-steeped Castle overlooking beautiful gardens and walk past under the shadow of the Monument each and every day on my way to work. Medieval buildings, ridges and hills sculpted by glaciers, gorgeous gardens and mangnificent Georgian buildings, all rich with Scottish history, from the time of the Ice Age through the Middle Ages, the Enlightenment and the modern day. Even the pubs are historical - see here where great stones from the old city wall are now part of the wall of the pub; here is where Sorely MacLean and other Scottish poets met and chat and argued and drunk. Here is a spot from The Prime of Miss Jean Brodie, there a street from an Ian Rankin novel. I pass these every day going to and from work. And that is wonderful.
The sun had just set over Edinburgh as I left work this evening. Gathering gloom as darkness falls, lights one across the city and yet still there is some light fading light in the sky. So I took out my new toy and thought I'd try a couple of pictures to see what worked. This is the Castle, standing sentinel over Edinburgh atop the great volcanic rock and the Scott Monument, the largest monument to an author int he world. The carvings on this mock-Gothic version of Thunderbird 3 are incredibly intricate (and delicate to preserve), featuring a vast cast of characters from Walter Scott's novels in stone. The foundations alone go over 40 feet down into the Scottish bedrock - did the Victorians know how to build to last or what?
Sometimes the workaday week is a grind and life seems a pointless routine. But then I think of how I pass an enormous, history-steeped Castle overlooking beautiful gardens and walk past under the shadow of the Monument each and every day on my way to work. Medieval buildings, ridges and hills sculpted by glaciers, gorgeous gardens and mangnificent Georgian buildings, all rich with Scottish history, from the time of the Ice Age through the Middle Ages, the Enlightenment and the modern day. Even the pubs are historical - see here where great stones from the old city wall are now part of the wall of the pub; here is where Sorely MacLean and other Scottish poets met and chat and argued and drunk. Here is a spot from The Prime of Miss Jean Brodie, there a street from an Ian Rankin novel. I pass these every day going to and from work. And that is wonderful.
Sunday, January 25, 2004
Happy Burns Night to you all
Scots, wha hae wi’ Wallace bled,
Scots, wham Bruce has often led,
Welcome to your gory bed,
Or to Victory!
Now’s the day, and now’s the hour;
See the front o’ battle lour,
See approach proud Edward’s power -
Chains and slaverie!
Wha will be a traitor knave?
Wha can fill a coward’s grave?
Wha sae base as be a slave?
Let him turn and flee!
Wha for Scotland’s king and law
Freedom’s sword will strongly draw,
Freeman stand or freeman fa’
Let him follow me!
By oppression’s woes and pains,
By your sons in servile chains,
We will drain our dearest veins,
But they shall be free.
Lay the proud usurpers low!
Tyrants fall in every foe!
Liberty’s in every blow!
Let us do or die!
Robert Burns, Robert Bruce’s March to Bannockburn
Burns Night again, when Scots the world over - and many, many others, from Cuba to Moscow - celebrate the life and work of Rabbie Burns, the national bard of Scotland. Burns, often a womanising and hard-drinking rascal (but then a good poet should be, shouldn’t he?) was heavily influenced by the period of revolution in which he lived. He much admired the ethos of the American Revolution (and was admired by many an American, and indeed, still is). He believed fervently in liberty and freedom - his poem and song Is There For Honest Poverty makes clear that, as Jefferson so eloquently put it, “all men are created equal” when he talked of nobles with their garter, laces and ribbons, compared them to the honest but poor worker or humble man of learning and wondered who really was the rich and noble man - a man’s a man for aw that (sung, incidentally, at the opening of the new Scottish parliament - a gentle Caledonian reminder to the Queen and others of the social-political elite that a free Scot considers no-one his superior).
He also drew heavily on traditional Celtic music, verse, folk tales and myth. In the case of the above poem he managed to fuse his love of liberty and freedom with real Scottish history, celebrating the famous victory over the English army of Edward II at the hallowed turf of Bannockburn in the summer of 1314. A small but determined and heavily trained army of Scots faced the biggest and most successful army in Europe of the time. Heavy cavalry, hundreds of knights, longbowmen, pikemen… The Scots knights, including Templars who had fled papal persecution in Spain and France and the Bruce himself dismounted and fought on foot amidst the rank and file of their army - the message was clear, they would fight with their people and for their people and they would stand or fall together.
Before the battle proper English scouts encountered Bruce on horseback examining the lay of the land. Eager for glory, one English knight lowered his visor, raised his lance and charged the Scots king. Bruce really should have retreated and let his guards deal with this, but that was not his way. A man on a heavy charger with a lance facing a man on a small but sturdy pony, armed only with axe and sword. Should be a foregone conclusion, except the Bruce was ranked as one of the top three knights in Christendom (some French knights fought for Edward purely for the chance to face him). He made his little pony sidestep the charging knight’s lance, raised himself in his stirrups and smote his opponent with such a blow that his axe broke in twain. Bruce was said to be annoyed at breaking his favourite war axe. All of this was in view of his men, before the battle. You can imagine the effect it must have had on the Scots, eyeing up the vast war host arrayed against them. They must have looked on in a new light and thought they couldn’t lose while they followed such a man.
The arrogant might of the oppressors was indeed broken, shattered. Edward had to flee, pursued by vengeful Scots, leaving behind everything, even his Royal seal. Bruce, a believer in knightly chivalry, returned it to him since he did not think a king should be without his seal. He was not thanked for his honourable action. He did however take the monks who Edward brought north to scribe down his tale of victory and promised them their freedom and rewards if they would instead write of the Scots great victory (they did). There were many more battles between England and Scotland over the long centuries until James VI became James I of a new entity called Great Britain in 1603, but Scotland’s unique, independent nature, history and culture were protected by the sacrifices made at Bannockburn (where the Templars still hold a ceremony each year to mark the battle).
With this poem he celebrated the political revolutions sweeping Europe and America and the liberty the seemed to promise for all, while drawing on myth-historical wellsprings of his native land to remind us of the great sacrifices that had been made to secure those liberties and gently remind us of the eternal obligation this inheritance places upon us.
Enough pontificating - before I go off to pour a very generous dram of 21 year old single malt (don’t even think of mentioning ice you barbarous Sassenachs wae nae palette!) to toast the Bard I would also like to remind you of one of the other sides of dear, dear Rabbie; the first song he ever wrote as a young farm lad in Ayrshire on Scotland’s west coast was written with pretty much the express aim of getting him into the neighbouring farmer’s daughter’s knickers. You gotta love him!
Scots, wha hae wi’ Wallace bled,
Scots, wham Bruce has often led,
Welcome to your gory bed,
Or to Victory!
Now’s the day, and now’s the hour;
See the front o’ battle lour,
See approach proud Edward’s power -
Chains and slaverie!
Wha will be a traitor knave?
Wha can fill a coward’s grave?
Wha sae base as be a slave?
Let him turn and flee!
Wha for Scotland’s king and law
Freedom’s sword will strongly draw,
Freeman stand or freeman fa’
Let him follow me!
By oppression’s woes and pains,
By your sons in servile chains,
We will drain our dearest veins,
But they shall be free.
Lay the proud usurpers low!
Tyrants fall in every foe!
Liberty’s in every blow!
Let us do or die!
Robert Burns, Robert Bruce’s March to Bannockburn
Burns Night again, when Scots the world over - and many, many others, from Cuba to Moscow - celebrate the life and work of Rabbie Burns, the national bard of Scotland. Burns, often a womanising and hard-drinking rascal (but then a good poet should be, shouldn’t he?) was heavily influenced by the period of revolution in which he lived. He much admired the ethos of the American Revolution (and was admired by many an American, and indeed, still is). He believed fervently in liberty and freedom - his poem and song Is There For Honest Poverty makes clear that, as Jefferson so eloquently put it, “all men are created equal” when he talked of nobles with their garter, laces and ribbons, compared them to the honest but poor worker or humble man of learning and wondered who really was the rich and noble man - a man’s a man for aw that (sung, incidentally, at the opening of the new Scottish parliament - a gentle Caledonian reminder to the Queen and others of the social-political elite that a free Scot considers no-one his superior).
He also drew heavily on traditional Celtic music, verse, folk tales and myth. In the case of the above poem he managed to fuse his love of liberty and freedom with real Scottish history, celebrating the famous victory over the English army of Edward II at the hallowed turf of Bannockburn in the summer of 1314. A small but determined and heavily trained army of Scots faced the biggest and most successful army in Europe of the time. Heavy cavalry, hundreds of knights, longbowmen, pikemen… The Scots knights, including Templars who had fled papal persecution in Spain and France and the Bruce himself dismounted and fought on foot amidst the rank and file of their army - the message was clear, they would fight with their people and for their people and they would stand or fall together.
Before the battle proper English scouts encountered Bruce on horseback examining the lay of the land. Eager for glory, one English knight lowered his visor, raised his lance and charged the Scots king. Bruce really should have retreated and let his guards deal with this, but that was not his way. A man on a heavy charger with a lance facing a man on a small but sturdy pony, armed only with axe and sword. Should be a foregone conclusion, except the Bruce was ranked as one of the top three knights in Christendom (some French knights fought for Edward purely for the chance to face him). He made his little pony sidestep the charging knight’s lance, raised himself in his stirrups and smote his opponent with such a blow that his axe broke in twain. Bruce was said to be annoyed at breaking his favourite war axe. All of this was in view of his men, before the battle. You can imagine the effect it must have had on the Scots, eyeing up the vast war host arrayed against them. They must have looked on in a new light and thought they couldn’t lose while they followed such a man.
The arrogant might of the oppressors was indeed broken, shattered. Edward had to flee, pursued by vengeful Scots, leaving behind everything, even his Royal seal. Bruce, a believer in knightly chivalry, returned it to him since he did not think a king should be without his seal. He was not thanked for his honourable action. He did however take the monks who Edward brought north to scribe down his tale of victory and promised them their freedom and rewards if they would instead write of the Scots great victory (they did). There were many more battles between England and Scotland over the long centuries until James VI became James I of a new entity called Great Britain in 1603, but Scotland’s unique, independent nature, history and culture were protected by the sacrifices made at Bannockburn (where the Templars still hold a ceremony each year to mark the battle).
With this poem he celebrated the political revolutions sweeping Europe and America and the liberty the seemed to promise for all, while drawing on myth-historical wellsprings of his native land to remind us of the great sacrifices that had been made to secure those liberties and gently remind us of the eternal obligation this inheritance places upon us.
Enough pontificating - before I go off to pour a very generous dram of 21 year old single malt (don’t even think of mentioning ice you barbarous Sassenachs wae nae palette!) to toast the Bard I would also like to remind you of one of the other sides of dear, dear Rabbie; the first song he ever wrote as a young farm lad in Ayrshire on Scotland’s west coast was written with pretty much the express aim of getting him into the neighbouring farmer’s daughter’s knickers. You gotta love him!
Saturday, January 24, 2004
Boys from the Dwarf
For quite some time now most of the author events for Waterstone’s in Edinburgh (a mere shadow of their former glory) have been given to the larger West End branch. So it was with much pleasure that we had the first author reading in our branch for a long, long time. When I first started we would have several readings a month just in our own bookshop, but no longer. The events diary for the whole of our Scottish shops is now somewhat less than the events diary for Edinburgh alone would have been five years ago. It certainly felt very nice to have an in-store reading again, bringing back for me warm memories of the Good Old Days of Bookselling, before marketing and accountant professionals ran the show and people did it mostly for the love of good writing.
It also marked a very welcome return (third time I believe) for Rob Grant, co-creator of one of my all-time favourite shows, Red Dwarf. Alex and I had set up everything in the basement of the store (which resembles a 60s fallout shelter, but does give us a good-sized space for free events) and, remarkably, we had been given plenty of assistance because extra staff had been put on to cover us, which was great. Rob’s moved from Penguin to Gollancz now, who have a damned fine SF list and they know how to run and publicise it. The publicity for his new book, the hilarious Incompetence, was impressive.
We had a damned fun night with Rob reading some of his favourite sections out to the great enjoyment of the audience and then taking time to sign copies and chat to the readers (naturally I had to get a signed copy for my collection and one for my chum Stephanie in Florida, a big Dwarf fan (pun intended)). As an added surprise bonus for me Nicola, Rob’s editor from Gollancz was accompanying him. I’ve known Nic for years now, talking to her on the phone and by email - she blesses me with an embarrassment of good books to read and review. This was the first time I had ever actually met her in the flesh, so it was a delightful surprise for me.
After the last book had been signed we toddled off to the nearby Guildford Arms, which in days gone past has seen many authors having a post-reading drink in our company (after Ken MacLeod launches we have been know to stake out a fair bit of the pub for ourselves). Much booze was consumed, jokes swapped and nonsense talked (Rob paying me the very nice compliment of telling me I need to write professionally, which was very nice of him and certainly did the old ego no harm). Mostly these days bookselling is not what it once was. It’s dominated by discounting, bestsellers and run often by people who refer to books as ‘units’ to be ‘shifted’ (keeps making me think of Nirvana’s Radio Friendly Unit Shifter song), a thought which give me chills. Occasionally though we get to have a good event and sell some books, lifting us out of the dull monotony that much modern bookselling has sunken into.
And to those who read the adverts which announced Rob would be ‘singing’, it was indeed a deliberate typo (to go with the subject of the book) and Rob did not, after all, deign to entertain us with a selection of show tunes from the musicals of Rogers and Hart, which is a shame. This did not prevent me from almost convincing my American colleague Stephanie that he would indeed be signing. Also he would put on a small one-man variety show encompassing magic tricks and some tap-dancing. She was asking me how he could tap dance on a carpeted floor when my straight face cracked and the grin of which a Cheshire would be proud rather gave away the fact I was bullshitting at full steam. It still amazes me sometimes that people will believe me, if only for a few moments, when I tell them things like this. Perhaps I should have been a politician.
Please note this is one of the very few times I'll let images of myself slip into public view.
For quite some time now most of the author events for Waterstone’s in Edinburgh (a mere shadow of their former glory) have been given to the larger West End branch. So it was with much pleasure that we had the first author reading in our branch for a long, long time. When I first started we would have several readings a month just in our own bookshop, but no longer. The events diary for the whole of our Scottish shops is now somewhat less than the events diary for Edinburgh alone would have been five years ago. It certainly felt very nice to have an in-store reading again, bringing back for me warm memories of the Good Old Days of Bookselling, before marketing and accountant professionals ran the show and people did it mostly for the love of good writing.
It also marked a very welcome return (third time I believe) for Rob Grant, co-creator of one of my all-time favourite shows, Red Dwarf. Alex and I had set up everything in the basement of the store (which resembles a 60s fallout shelter, but does give us a good-sized space for free events) and, remarkably, we had been given plenty of assistance because extra staff had been put on to cover us, which was great. Rob’s moved from Penguin to Gollancz now, who have a damned fine SF list and they know how to run and publicise it. The publicity for his new book, the hilarious Incompetence, was impressive.
We had a damned fun night with Rob reading some of his favourite sections out to the great enjoyment of the audience and then taking time to sign copies and chat to the readers (naturally I had to get a signed copy for my collection and one for my chum Stephanie in Florida, a big Dwarf fan (pun intended)). As an added surprise bonus for me Nicola, Rob’s editor from Gollancz was accompanying him. I’ve known Nic for years now, talking to her on the phone and by email - she blesses me with an embarrassment of good books to read and review. This was the first time I had ever actually met her in the flesh, so it was a delightful surprise for me.
After the last book had been signed we toddled off to the nearby Guildford Arms, which in days gone past has seen many authors having a post-reading drink in our company (after Ken MacLeod launches we have been know to stake out a fair bit of the pub for ourselves). Much booze was consumed, jokes swapped and nonsense talked (Rob paying me the very nice compliment of telling me I need to write professionally, which was very nice of him and certainly did the old ego no harm). Mostly these days bookselling is not what it once was. It’s dominated by discounting, bestsellers and run often by people who refer to books as ‘units’ to be ‘shifted’ (keeps making me think of Nirvana’s Radio Friendly Unit Shifter song), a thought which give me chills. Occasionally though we get to have a good event and sell some books, lifting us out of the dull monotony that much modern bookselling has sunken into.
And to those who read the adverts which announced Rob would be ‘singing’, it was indeed a deliberate typo (to go with the subject of the book) and Rob did not, after all, deign to entertain us with a selection of show tunes from the musicals of Rogers and Hart, which is a shame. This did not prevent me from almost convincing my American colleague Stephanie that he would indeed be signing. Also he would put on a small one-man variety show encompassing magic tricks and some tap-dancing. She was asking me how he could tap dance on a carpeted floor when my straight face cracked and the grin of which a Cheshire would be proud rather gave away the fact I was bullshitting at full steam. It still amazes me sometimes that people will believe me, if only for a few moments, when I tell them things like this. Perhaps I should have been a politician.
Please note this is one of the very few times I'll let images of myself slip into public view.
Drug companies at it again
Yep, those wonderful pharmaceutical companies - you know the ones who make literally billions and force governments to avoid too much regulation or safety inspections - are at it again. Not satisfied with making MOnty Burns look like Mother Theresa over the patent controls on Aids drugs to the developing world they are now using contracts and patents to screw up attempts of local authorites in Asia and the W.H.O. to treat the frightening outbreak of flu contracted from poultyr which has been scaring most of us on the news this week. You'd think a drugs company would understand these outbreaks must be stamped out as swiftly as possible before new variants appear - they can mutate at a frightening rate, often faster than our own immune system or drug researchers can deal with. So catch it quickly before it mutates, a golden rule of fighting viruses and bacteria. Seems pretty simple and straightforward to understand, doesn't it? But as this article in New Scientist reveals, not everyone had an injection of the common sense virus.
Yep, those wonderful pharmaceutical companies - you know the ones who make literally billions and force governments to avoid too much regulation or safety inspections - are at it again. Not satisfied with making MOnty Burns look like Mother Theresa over the patent controls on Aids drugs to the developing world they are now using contracts and patents to screw up attempts of local authorites in Asia and the W.H.O. to treat the frightening outbreak of flu contracted from poultyr which has been scaring most of us on the news this week. You'd think a drugs company would understand these outbreaks must be stamped out as swiftly as possible before new variants appear - they can mutate at a frightening rate, often faster than our own immune system or drug researchers can deal with. So catch it quickly before it mutates, a golden rule of fighting viruses and bacteria. Seems pretty simple and straightforward to understand, doesn't it? But as this article in New Scientist reveals, not everyone had an injection of the common sense virus.
Wednesday, January 21, 2004
Tokyo time
Caught Lost in Translation last night and thought it was excellent. Very mellow with almost Woody Allen overtones to it. Many of the scenes (written and directed by Sofia Coppolla) were filmed in a very naturalstic style, eschewing nromal movie camera angles and lighting, which gave a kind of realistic fly on the wall quality to some shots which I liked. She used Air for her earlier film, the Virgin Suicides (based on Jeff Euegenides novel). Here it was one member of Air (I forgot who) who helped with the music. Some of it struck me as Air influenced by My Bloody Valentine - then on the scene where Bill Murray's jaded actor and the wonderful Scarlett Johansonn's unsure wife go on a fun night out what's the backing track? My Bloody Valentine from the Loveless period... Love that album, happy memories of dancing round my student pad to it while my brain was being rewired by certain enjoyable consumables.
The film does poke a lot of fun at modern Japanese culture, but not I thought in a racist manner. Personally I thought it was affectionate abuse, the type you can only put on someone you like, although the jokes about Japanese folk mixing up their Rs and Ls gets a tad wearing after a while. Anyway, it is a damned good film and well worth seeing. A quick pint afterwards lead to several and a discussion of the finest of single malts prompted me to go and get some whisky (I'm a slave to suggestion... Well, to suggestions that I like, heh heh). Fun night.
I really need to see Tokyo one of these days.
Caught Lost in Translation last night and thought it was excellent. Very mellow with almost Woody Allen overtones to it. Many of the scenes (written and directed by Sofia Coppolla) were filmed in a very naturalstic style, eschewing nromal movie camera angles and lighting, which gave a kind of realistic fly on the wall quality to some shots which I liked. She used Air for her earlier film, the Virgin Suicides (based on Jeff Euegenides novel). Here it was one member of Air (I forgot who) who helped with the music. Some of it struck me as Air influenced by My Bloody Valentine - then on the scene where Bill Murray's jaded actor and the wonderful Scarlett Johansonn's unsure wife go on a fun night out what's the backing track? My Bloody Valentine from the Loveless period... Love that album, happy memories of dancing round my student pad to it while my brain was being rewired by certain enjoyable consumables.
The film does poke a lot of fun at modern Japanese culture, but not I thought in a racist manner. Personally I thought it was affectionate abuse, the type you can only put on someone you like, although the jokes about Japanese folk mixing up their Rs and Ls gets a tad wearing after a while. Anyway, it is a damned good film and well worth seeing. A quick pint afterwards lead to several and a discussion of the finest of single malts prompted me to go and get some whisky (I'm a slave to suggestion... Well, to suggestions that I like, heh heh). Fun night.
I really need to see Tokyo one of these days.
Took this test after spotting it on my vampy chum Sweet Rouge's blog:
Yours are DEMON wings, possibly resembling
those of a bat - huge, black, and clawed. You
are cold and impure, and a born Creature of the
Night. Possibly with an interest in those of a
vampyric nature, or possibly one yourself. You
have little sympathy or care for humanity and
see them as existing for no real purpose -
thus, you can be very manipulative and bend
them to fit YOUR purpose. And you do have a
purpose, to everything you do. Nine times out
of ten it will be strictly for your own self
gratification or perhaps merely amusement. As
soon as a person or situation is no longer
productive or pleasurable in your life, you
will rid yourself of it or them. You could very
well have just a touch of superiority complex
(or perhaps more than a touch?). Despite all of
this, you are capable of love so intense that
you place that person's wishes even above your
own - the only time that you will do so.
Chances are you are attracted to people in
which you see...yourself. Though many hate you
for your carelessness and evil...Sexy, fierce,
sinful, and mysterious...you turn me on.
*~*~*Claim Your Wings - Pics and Long Answers*~*~*
brought to you by Quizilla
To which I will simply add: "heheheheheheheheheheheheheh"
Yours are DEMON wings, possibly resembling
those of a bat - huge, black, and clawed. You
are cold and impure, and a born Creature of the
Night. Possibly with an interest in those of a
vampyric nature, or possibly one yourself. You
have little sympathy or care for humanity and
see them as existing for no real purpose -
thus, you can be very manipulative and bend
them to fit YOUR purpose. And you do have a
purpose, to everything you do. Nine times out
of ten it will be strictly for your own self
gratification or perhaps merely amusement. As
soon as a person or situation is no longer
productive or pleasurable in your life, you
will rid yourself of it or them. You could very
well have just a touch of superiority complex
(or perhaps more than a touch?). Despite all of
this, you are capable of love so intense that
you place that person's wishes even above your
own - the only time that you will do so.
Chances are you are attracted to people in
which you see...yourself. Though many hate you
for your carelessness and evil...Sexy, fierce,
sinful, and mysterious...you turn me on.
*~*~*Claim Your Wings - Pics and Long Answers*~*~*
brought to you by Quizilla
To which I will simply add: "heheheheheheheheheheheheheh"
Holy smoke!
Passing by a nearby church today I spotted these two posters promoting the virtues of Godliness by riffing on both the Lord of the Rings and The Matrix sequels. Hey, kids, come meet Jesus, the original 'the one'! What will those pesky Christians think of next? If we're not careful they'll go from using movie-style posters to making spoof movies. Of course, they may have a problem if the followed through on the poster and tried to make a Lord of the Rings spoof since Gandalf would have to be out right away, since the Bible is pretty specific on witches and wizards (although it's okay for saints and SOns of God to perform magic tricks - or miracles as the faithful refer to them). Of course, no real mainstream church would ever stoop to chicanery to trcik kids into joining them, unlike those evil cults, eh? Oh, wait a minute..
Passing by a nearby church today I spotted these two posters promoting the virtues of Godliness by riffing on both the Lord of the Rings and The Matrix sequels. Hey, kids, come meet Jesus, the original 'the one'! What will those pesky Christians think of next? If we're not careful they'll go from using movie-style posters to making spoof movies. Of course, they may have a problem if the followed through on the poster and tried to make a Lord of the Rings spoof since Gandalf would have to be out right away, since the Bible is pretty specific on witches and wizards (although it's okay for saints and SOns of God to perform magic tricks - or miracles as the faithful refer to them). Of course, no real mainstream church would ever stoop to chicanery to trcik kids into joining them, unlike those evil cults, eh? Oh, wait a minute..
Sunset song
Heading home last night, along Princes Street’s east-west axis. By five pm in the Scottish winter it has already been dark for sometime. Looking straight down Princes Street to the west however, framed by the buildings, is a rapidly diminishing slice of glowing red skyline. Everything else was in darkness already, the Castle lit softly by floodlights, standing sentinel over the city as it has always done. But this small section of horizon… The three spires of Saint Mary’s were silhouetted perfectly against the blood red sky; a bar of copper and vermilion against the blackness of the winter night. Utterly gorgeous.
Racing on westwards, the diminishing vision of light was rushing over the rest of the land, casting red shadows over the hallowed ground of Bannockburn, washing the ancient stone blocks of Stirling Castle. The extinct volcanoes of the Campsie Hills reflect a final glow of copper before nightfall as the setting sun passes over my parent’s home on the outskirts of Glasgow. The Clyde, where once many of the greatest ships in the world came to life gleams like a river of copper in the twilight. The sun follows the river’s course out over the Western Isles. Dipping past beautiful Arran, the magnificent Cuillins of Sky, imparting a final burst of warmth and light over the tombs of the early kings on Iona, the home of Celtic Christianity before speeding on over the Irish sea, leaving the Callanish Standing Stones of Lewis outlined against the burning sky.
That same sunset moves onwards relentlessly, over deep water trawlers in the cold Atlantic, passing over the glaciers of Greenland until it reaches the shores of Newfoundland and the New World, reflecting over rocks identical to those it left behind on the Scottish coast, rocks separated millions of years before when the continents went on their own ways, joined now only by the seas and the skies and by those who came form the Old to the New. It passes over the Great Lakes, like a vast inland sea and across the mighty Rockies, running across the land like the spine of the great continent. Lights come on to light up Lady Liberty as New York slips into night. The sunset crosses states in minutes, turning the corn fields of Iowa from gold to red and then to soft darkness. It outlines the Golden Gate Bridge, turned true gold in the reflected sunset as it leaves the Americas and spreads of the great Pacific Ocean.
The volcanic Hawaiian Islands meet the sunset and the hula dancers leave the beaches to the party goers. Further on the Land of the Rising Sun greets the setting star. Snows on Mount Fuji are coloured salmon pink as Tokyo’s streets light up in neon.
The terminator’s shadow crosses the vast lands of Asia, covering ancient kingdoms in a soft blanket of velvet night. The Great Wall slips into darkness, then the great desert beyond where once the caravans travelled between the lands. The sun sets across the palaces of the Mughals of India and touches the sacred summits of the Himalayas as they hold up the roof of the sky. Darkness enfolds the sands and deltas of the Arabian Peninsula, cradle of all human civilization. Shadows cross the ruins where Gilgamesh once walked. Africa meets the end of the day with roars and cries. Dark-adapted eyes of tigers and lions glow in the gathering gloom as they have for thousands of years.
The setting sun has passed over the whole of our diverse globe until it magically transforms itself into the rising sun. It passes over the olive fields of Greece and warms decorated walls of Venice. Eiffel’s engineering wonder greets the new sun in Paris. Its light reaches back to these isles, casting shadows over the temple of Stonehenge and it reaches back here, to Edinburgh. It comes across the cold, North Sea, lighting on the surf as it passes up the Forth. Arthur’s Seat is outlined against the rising sun, a great rock sculpture made by the glaciers long gone, the golden light spreading across the Crags and touching the city itself, passing behind the ridge of the Old Town and rising slowly in an arc. The mists in the valley of the Gardens start to break up, swirling around trees and the base of Castle Rock.
This happens everyday of every year for millennia after millennia, the same sunset and sunrise touches each and every human soul on the planet. It has passed over family homes and pyramids, mountains and seas. How can the simple orbital mechanics of a few rotating spheres be so incredibly beautiful to our eyes?
Heading home last night, along Princes Street’s east-west axis. By five pm in the Scottish winter it has already been dark for sometime. Looking straight down Princes Street to the west however, framed by the buildings, is a rapidly diminishing slice of glowing red skyline. Everything else was in darkness already, the Castle lit softly by floodlights, standing sentinel over the city as it has always done. But this small section of horizon… The three spires of Saint Mary’s were silhouetted perfectly against the blood red sky; a bar of copper and vermilion against the blackness of the winter night. Utterly gorgeous.
Racing on westwards, the diminishing vision of light was rushing over the rest of the land, casting red shadows over the hallowed ground of Bannockburn, washing the ancient stone blocks of Stirling Castle. The extinct volcanoes of the Campsie Hills reflect a final glow of copper before nightfall as the setting sun passes over my parent’s home on the outskirts of Glasgow. The Clyde, where once many of the greatest ships in the world came to life gleams like a river of copper in the twilight. The sun follows the river’s course out over the Western Isles. Dipping past beautiful Arran, the magnificent Cuillins of Sky, imparting a final burst of warmth and light over the tombs of the early kings on Iona, the home of Celtic Christianity before speeding on over the Irish sea, leaving the Callanish Standing Stones of Lewis outlined against the burning sky.
That same sunset moves onwards relentlessly, over deep water trawlers in the cold Atlantic, passing over the glaciers of Greenland until it reaches the shores of Newfoundland and the New World, reflecting over rocks identical to those it left behind on the Scottish coast, rocks separated millions of years before when the continents went on their own ways, joined now only by the seas and the skies and by those who came form the Old to the New. It passes over the Great Lakes, like a vast inland sea and across the mighty Rockies, running across the land like the spine of the great continent. Lights come on to light up Lady Liberty as New York slips into night. The sunset crosses states in minutes, turning the corn fields of Iowa from gold to red and then to soft darkness. It outlines the Golden Gate Bridge, turned true gold in the reflected sunset as it leaves the Americas and spreads of the great Pacific Ocean.
The volcanic Hawaiian Islands meet the sunset and the hula dancers leave the beaches to the party goers. Further on the Land of the Rising Sun greets the setting star. Snows on Mount Fuji are coloured salmon pink as Tokyo’s streets light up in neon.
The terminator’s shadow crosses the vast lands of Asia, covering ancient kingdoms in a soft blanket of velvet night. The Great Wall slips into darkness, then the great desert beyond where once the caravans travelled between the lands. The sun sets across the palaces of the Mughals of India and touches the sacred summits of the Himalayas as they hold up the roof of the sky. Darkness enfolds the sands and deltas of the Arabian Peninsula, cradle of all human civilization. Shadows cross the ruins where Gilgamesh once walked. Africa meets the end of the day with roars and cries. Dark-adapted eyes of tigers and lions glow in the gathering gloom as they have for thousands of years.
The setting sun has passed over the whole of our diverse globe until it magically transforms itself into the rising sun. It passes over the olive fields of Greece and warms decorated walls of Venice. Eiffel’s engineering wonder greets the new sun in Paris. Its light reaches back to these isles, casting shadows over the temple of Stonehenge and it reaches back here, to Edinburgh. It comes across the cold, North Sea, lighting on the surf as it passes up the Forth. Arthur’s Seat is outlined against the rising sun, a great rock sculpture made by the glaciers long gone, the golden light spreading across the Crags and touching the city itself, passing behind the ridge of the Old Town and rising slowly in an arc. The mists in the valley of the Gardens start to break up, swirling around trees and the base of Castle Rock.
This happens everyday of every year for millennia after millennia, the same sunset and sunrise touches each and every human soul on the planet. It has passed over family homes and pyramids, mountains and seas. How can the simple orbital mechanics of a few rotating spheres be so incredibly beautiful to our eyes?
The State our Union is in Address
My fellow Americans and other suckers. Yep, it’s me, the guy who got his brother and his rich daddy’s chums on the Supreme Court to hand him the Presidency.
There has been a lot of talk recently about the slide into which some say the American economy has been turning. I would like to say two things about this. First of all, I believe by spending trillions of dollars on our war machine we will help to jump-start the economy once more and create new wealth - especially for my friends in Boeing, McDonnell et al - true Patriots all of them (pockets plain brown envelope with large cash donation for campaigning). Secondly anyone who states the US economy is in peril is a traitor and a communist and will have their home and records searched without a warrant in order to safeguard the security of the nation.
We will continue our brave and well-informed overseas missions of liberation. No, never mind what that Private Jessica is saying in her memoirs, listen to my good friend and patriot Ari Fleischer - what we are doing is right. I firmly believe that the only way to secure our beloved homeland from terrorist attacks is to bomb the crap out of any other nation we feel like. Isolating ourselves internationally by enraging other nations and making fun of even our allies is the perfect way to secure America a lasting peace, as is propping up dictators with money and weapons when it suits us then bombing them later. This allows for new opportunities for American corporations in the reconstruction of lands we have destroyed (pockets another brown envelope stuffed with dollar bills and a complimentary Halliburton golf umbrella). This allows us to remake the world in our divine American image - as it should be since we are obviously spot on about everything - and boost our own economy while helping poor people in far flung nations who have nothing (now we’ve bombed everything they had).
I firmly believe the capture of the evil dictator Saddam excuses all the outright lies we told you about why we were going to war. However, since so many of you still believe Iraq had nuclear weapons and was involved in 9-11 I guess it doesn’t really matter. And you guys say I’m dumb? (chuckles, riffles some of the bills in his envelope). His capture also makes me a bigger man than my pappy, which can only be good for America and the world as we eye up our next target. We brave watchmen on the ramparts of freedom will continues to stand against the threat of those evil terrorists who would kill and maim innocents by bombing the hell out of other people’s cities for peace. If Kofi Annan or the Frogs or Krauts say anything it’s because they are all Communist Terrorist Cheese Eating Surrender Monkeys Cowards (looks at book of American history and puts marker pen through parts describing how America would never have won the Revolutionary War without French aid). Anyway, my Mate Tony says it’s all okay, so it must be fine. They’re a class act those Brits - they are determined, honourable people who will always stand and fight for whatever I tell their Prime Minister to.
And so, as we enter an election year and I face the problem of perhaps actually having to be elected this time round, I say this to you, my fellow citizens. Remember that only a traitor questions authority, it is un-American to change presidents during a war (so we’ll just keep it going and going, thank you all for your support). And don’t forget that nice Mister Ashcroft knows where each and every one of you lives and what you do, oh yes he does - that goes for you too Moore, you watch your unpatriotic ass, your dissent harms the brave war efforts of our multi-nationals…er… armed forces as they secure lucrative contracts… I mean peace. And as for that asshole Kerry - well, just remember what happened to the last Mick who got into the White House. (glares at Teddy Kennedy, then winks).
Ari Fleischer will take the names of anyone with questions afterwards and then hand them on to the Ministry for Homeland Security. Oh, and that reminds me, since that’s been so darn good I’m gonna add a Ministry of Patriotic Fossil Fuel Development (waves to Condoleeza Rice) and to make sure there is no repeat of the Florida debacle again and safeguard our blessed democracy - the best money can buy you know, we’re darn proud of it - there will be a new Ministry for Patriotic Democracy to oversee electoral irregularities. To ensure it is run impartially Katherine Harris will be in charge. All persons wanting to run for office or engage in voting will need to be cleared by the Ministry for Patriotic Democracy and the Ministry of Homeland Security. See you all in November and God bless Halliburton… I mean you all.
My fellow Americans and other suckers. Yep, it’s me, the guy who got his brother and his rich daddy’s chums on the Supreme Court to hand him the Presidency.
There has been a lot of talk recently about the slide into which some say the American economy has been turning. I would like to say two things about this. First of all, I believe by spending trillions of dollars on our war machine we will help to jump-start the economy once more and create new wealth - especially for my friends in Boeing, McDonnell et al - true Patriots all of them (pockets plain brown envelope with large cash donation for campaigning). Secondly anyone who states the US economy is in peril is a traitor and a communist and will have their home and records searched without a warrant in order to safeguard the security of the nation.
We will continue our brave and well-informed overseas missions of liberation. No, never mind what that Private Jessica is saying in her memoirs, listen to my good friend and patriot Ari Fleischer - what we are doing is right. I firmly believe that the only way to secure our beloved homeland from terrorist attacks is to bomb the crap out of any other nation we feel like. Isolating ourselves internationally by enraging other nations and making fun of even our allies is the perfect way to secure America a lasting peace, as is propping up dictators with money and weapons when it suits us then bombing them later. This allows for new opportunities for American corporations in the reconstruction of lands we have destroyed (pockets another brown envelope stuffed with dollar bills and a complimentary Halliburton golf umbrella). This allows us to remake the world in our divine American image - as it should be since we are obviously spot on about everything - and boost our own economy while helping poor people in far flung nations who have nothing (now we’ve bombed everything they had).
I firmly believe the capture of the evil dictator Saddam excuses all the outright lies we told you about why we were going to war. However, since so many of you still believe Iraq had nuclear weapons and was involved in 9-11 I guess it doesn’t really matter. And you guys say I’m dumb? (chuckles, riffles some of the bills in his envelope). His capture also makes me a bigger man than my pappy, which can only be good for America and the world as we eye up our next target. We brave watchmen on the ramparts of freedom will continues to stand against the threat of those evil terrorists who would kill and maim innocents by bombing the hell out of other people’s cities for peace. If Kofi Annan or the Frogs or Krauts say anything it’s because they are all Communist Terrorist Cheese Eating Surrender Monkeys Cowards (looks at book of American history and puts marker pen through parts describing how America would never have won the Revolutionary War without French aid). Anyway, my Mate Tony says it’s all okay, so it must be fine. They’re a class act those Brits - they are determined, honourable people who will always stand and fight for whatever I tell their Prime Minister to.
And so, as we enter an election year and I face the problem of perhaps actually having to be elected this time round, I say this to you, my fellow citizens. Remember that only a traitor questions authority, it is un-American to change presidents during a war (so we’ll just keep it going and going, thank you all for your support). And don’t forget that nice Mister Ashcroft knows where each and every one of you lives and what you do, oh yes he does - that goes for you too Moore, you watch your unpatriotic ass, your dissent harms the brave war efforts of our multi-nationals…er… armed forces as they secure lucrative contracts… I mean peace. And as for that asshole Kerry - well, just remember what happened to the last Mick who got into the White House. (glares at Teddy Kennedy, then winks).
Ari Fleischer will take the names of anyone with questions afterwards and then hand them on to the Ministry for Homeland Security. Oh, and that reminds me, since that’s been so darn good I’m gonna add a Ministry of Patriotic Fossil Fuel Development (waves to Condoleeza Rice) and to make sure there is no repeat of the Florida debacle again and safeguard our blessed democracy - the best money can buy you know, we’re darn proud of it - there will be a new Ministry for Patriotic Democracy to oversee electoral irregularities. To ensure it is run impartially Katherine Harris will be in charge. All persons wanting to run for office or engage in voting will need to be cleared by the Ministry for Patriotic Democracy and the Ministry of Homeland Security. See you all in November and God bless Halliburton… I mean you all.
Monday, January 19, 2004
Deep South...
Found this blog page today - the Deep South Comic. It's totally exco - check it out! You'll be happy you did.
Found this blog page today - the Deep South Comic. It's totally exco - check it out! You'll be happy you did.
Literary equivelants
Passing right over Alex's joy at the discovery of the wonderful word 'bathetic' (came across it more than once in 19th century literature, it's a great word and I wish him fun using it) I was reading Neil Gaiman's journal. He was having his photograph taken for a series of authors for the public libraries. Asked what literary character he would like to be here he replied Little Red Riding Hood's wolf. When asked why he didn't actually know and has been trying to work it out in writing.
Did make me wonder - what literary character would you like to be or most identify with? Personally I think for me it would have to be Don Quixote, Miguelles de Cervantes' wonderful tragic-comedic character; both hero and fool, a lover and an isolated figure but overall a dreamer. To this day I can't go to the Netherlands without losing control and charging the windmills...
Cinema character? Has to be Cyrano de Bergerac. "Duellist, poet, romantic, scientist and philosopher - he was ll of these and he was nothing."
Cartoon character? I'd love to be Bugs Bunny (my role model as a child) but fear I'm more of a cross between Dafy Duck and Wyle E. Coyote....
Comic Book? I want to be Batman but suspect I have more in common with the Plastic Man. Or maybe Obelix.
Musical equivelant? Would love to think of myself as one of Bach's cello pieces as played my Yoyo Ma but am probably more Danse Macabre by Camille Saint Saens.
Animal equivelant? Penguin.
So what about you lot? What do you identify with or see yourself as in the following categories:
Literature:
Cinema:
Cartoon:
Comic book:
Music:
Animal:
Passing right over Alex's joy at the discovery of the wonderful word 'bathetic' (came across it more than once in 19th century literature, it's a great word and I wish him fun using it) I was reading Neil Gaiman's journal. He was having his photograph taken for a series of authors for the public libraries. Asked what literary character he would like to be here he replied Little Red Riding Hood's wolf. When asked why he didn't actually know and has been trying to work it out in writing.
Did make me wonder - what literary character would you like to be or most identify with? Personally I think for me it would have to be Don Quixote, Miguelles de Cervantes' wonderful tragic-comedic character; both hero and fool, a lover and an isolated figure but overall a dreamer. To this day I can't go to the Netherlands without losing control and charging the windmills...
Cinema character? Has to be Cyrano de Bergerac. "Duellist, poet, romantic, scientist and philosopher - he was ll of these and he was nothing."
Cartoon character? I'd love to be Bugs Bunny (my role model as a child) but fear I'm more of a cross between Dafy Duck and Wyle E. Coyote....
Comic Book? I want to be Batman but suspect I have more in common with the Plastic Man. Or maybe Obelix.
Musical equivelant? Would love to think of myself as one of Bach's cello pieces as played my Yoyo Ma but am probably more Danse Macabre by Camille Saint Saens.
Animal equivelant? Penguin.
So what about you lot? What do you identify with or see yourself as in the following categories:
Literature:
Cinema:
Cartoon:
Comic book:
Music:
Animal:
Correction
I've since found out we do actually have a couple of genre entries in the new Waterstone's Prize-Winning Books campaign. Chris Priest's The Seperation which won both the BSFA and the Arthur C Clarke award last year (only third time that has happened) is in there and a couple of Crime Writers Association Dagger winners. I hadn't noticed because there is a colour leaflet goign along with the campaign with details of the books featured. these ain't in there. So we do have some genre winners in there, we just want to keep it quiet...
It gets better though - Alex told me about a head office bulletin where someone was asking why the Seperation was in there and what the hell did it win? Now it is a little on the lamentable side that professional bookseller wouldn't know this - but then again most of our head office aren't booksellers anymore - but each year I send the shortlist for the BSFA and the Arthur C Clarke nominees to our bulletin people so everyone gets to hear about it and then the winners when announced. Nice to know these idiots totally ignore that information... Oh well, their loss - we sell very well from our SF awards shortlist displays; it's a great chance to highlight the top quality writing in the genre and I've always found our regulars respond favourably to the display. It's also nice to see a lot of the nominees each year are titles we've previously had in our SF Recommends, so we're obviously on the button (smug mode engaged).
Not on any shortlist I know of, but extremely enjoyable nonetheless if the new Rob Grant - he of Red Dwarf fame - novel, Incompetence. Partly a detective tale, it is really an excuse for Rob to have a damend good rant about the things that are bugging him - EU legislation, railways timetables and stupidity in general. Somewhere between a humorous noir (if there is such a thing) and Grumpy Old Men - I think I've annoyed msot of my colleagues as I laughed my arse off reading it at lunch. Roll on Thursday and our return visit from Rob.
I've since found out we do actually have a couple of genre entries in the new Waterstone's Prize-Winning Books campaign. Chris Priest's The Seperation which won both the BSFA and the Arthur C Clarke award last year (only third time that has happened) is in there and a couple of Crime Writers Association Dagger winners. I hadn't noticed because there is a colour leaflet goign along with the campaign with details of the books featured. these ain't in there. So we do have some genre winners in there, we just want to keep it quiet...
It gets better though - Alex told me about a head office bulletin where someone was asking why the Seperation was in there and what the hell did it win? Now it is a little on the lamentable side that professional bookseller wouldn't know this - but then again most of our head office aren't booksellers anymore - but each year I send the shortlist for the BSFA and the Arthur C Clarke nominees to our bulletin people so everyone gets to hear about it and then the winners when announced. Nice to know these idiots totally ignore that information... Oh well, their loss - we sell very well from our SF awards shortlist displays; it's a great chance to highlight the top quality writing in the genre and I've always found our regulars respond favourably to the display. It's also nice to see a lot of the nominees each year are titles we've previously had in our SF Recommends, so we're obviously on the button (smug mode engaged).
Not on any shortlist I know of, but extremely enjoyable nonetheless if the new Rob Grant - he of Red Dwarf fame - novel, Incompetence. Partly a detective tale, it is really an excuse for Rob to have a damend good rant about the things that are bugging him - EU legislation, railways timetables and stupidity in general. Somewhere between a humorous noir (if there is such a thing) and Grumpy Old Men - I think I've annoyed msot of my colleagues as I laughed my arse off reading it at lunch. Roll on Thursday and our return visit from Rob.
BAFTA
The British Academy's shortlist contenders have been announced early this year - the ceremony has been brought forward due to the change in the Oscars this year. Top of the contenders is Anthony Minghella's Cold Mountain, adapted from Charles Frazier's excellent novel. Caught it at the weekend and thought it was a very good film - Minghella rarely makes bad ones after all - but not quite in the excellent category, so a bit surprised it picked up quite so many nominations (thirteen in all) since it simply isn't as good as that would indicate. Lord of the Rings was just behind with twelve, although apparently mostly in technical categories once more. If Peter Jackson is denied at the BAFTAs and the Oscars this year then there is no justice. Shockingly there was something of an absence of noms for the excellent Tom Cruise film The Last Samurai for some reason.
The films nominated in the Best Picture category are:
Big Fish
Cold Mountain
The Lord of the Rings: The Return of the King
Lost in Translation
Master and Commander: The Far Side of the World
Master and Commander was highly enjoyable, but no way should it be in with this crowd. Big Fish hasn't even been released in the UK yet, so I can't judge (but am hoping good old Tim Burton is back on form after the dreadful Planet of the Apes) and I'm hopefully going to catch Lost in Translation tomorrow (but the buzz is good). Still can't believe Last Samurai was edged out for Master and Commander... And why do they refer to the Scarlett Johansson as a 'newcomer'? She's made piles of films even if she is only twenty!
The British Academy's shortlist contenders have been announced early this year - the ceremony has been brought forward due to the change in the Oscars this year. Top of the contenders is Anthony Minghella's Cold Mountain, adapted from Charles Frazier's excellent novel. Caught it at the weekend and thought it was a very good film - Minghella rarely makes bad ones after all - but not quite in the excellent category, so a bit surprised it picked up quite so many nominations (thirteen in all) since it simply isn't as good as that would indicate. Lord of the Rings was just behind with twelve, although apparently mostly in technical categories once more. If Peter Jackson is denied at the BAFTAs and the Oscars this year then there is no justice. Shockingly there was something of an absence of noms for the excellent Tom Cruise film The Last Samurai for some reason.
The films nominated in the Best Picture category are:
Big Fish
Cold Mountain
The Lord of the Rings: The Return of the King
Lost in Translation
Master and Commander: The Far Side of the World
Master and Commander was highly enjoyable, but no way should it be in with this crowd. Big Fish hasn't even been released in the UK yet, so I can't judge (but am hoping good old Tim Burton is back on form after the dreadful Planet of the Apes) and I'm hopefully going to catch Lost in Translation tomorrow (but the buzz is good). Still can't believe Last Samurai was edged out for Master and Commander... And why do they refer to the Scarlett Johansson as a 'newcomer'? She's made piles of films even if she is only twenty!
Free association
This week's word association fun from Subliminal:
This week's word association fun from Subliminal:
- Berry:: Halle. Hmmmmmm... Halle Berry......
- Fiendish:: Fu Manchu
- Bar:: drink
- Frank:: Donny Darko's bunny rabbit
- Bend:: er
- Fanatic:: fantastic
- Belch:: our gasbag of a security dude, Garry
- Flagrant:: fragrant
- Burden:: "the white man's..."
- Flimsy:: underwear
Flickering images in the dark
Reading my dear chum Sweet Rouge’s blog, Flights of Fancy I had a look at the list of 100 films she had cribbed from the Internet Movie Database, where a poll is ongoing for the top 250 movies. Sweet had listed the top 100 and highlighted in bold the ones she had watched, being scrupulously honest by not marking ones that she has only seen parts of. Looking down the list I realised that there are perhaps two I haven’t seen in their entirety. I know I watch a lot of films of all types, but it’s when you check a list like this that you realise just how many. A few years back Empire movie magazine gave away a booklet of the top films of all time that you should have in your collection. My then flatmate Brendan (another big movie buff) and I went through the list and realised we had seen pretty much all of them and, between us, we had most of them on tape.
Rather than make a list of my own top movies I thought I'd perhaps list instead some Triple Ms. What is a Triple M, you ask? A Magical Movie Moment - those scenes which stay in your head forever; you replay them in your mind, you quote them liberally, reference them often.
Heathers, the finale outside the hell of High School. As the assembly inside roars approval of the cheerleaders (well, who wouldn’t?) JD (Slater) stands with his bomb strapped around his body and asks a bruised and bloody Heather (my darling Winona) what she wants as he activates the timer and waits for her to intervene. She calmly takes a battered cigarette out of her ripped jacket and lights it; “cool guys like you - out of my life.” BANG!
Star Wars - technically Episode IV: A New Hope as we now have to call it. Back in ‘77 though it was simply called Star Wars to a generation of wide-eyed kids. As many of you know I’m not only a cineaste, I studied films at college (so I am officially allowed to bullshit about the media!). One of the things we used to discuss when studying classic films was the fact that you were looking back with hindsight - you couldn’t really put yourself in the position of those original audiences seeing that film, that scene for the first time. Well, in this case I was in the original audience. I sat there, all of ten years old, the perfect age to first see this film, in the dark with my parents on either side of me. After the Flash Gordon-style prologue had scrolled across the scene there came a huge, deep bass rumbling. John Williams’ music pounded out on timpani as a small spaceship roared across the screen, followed by the most enormous starship as an Imperial Star Destroyer powers across the movie screen from a close-up perspective. And it kept going. And going, and going… We’re so used to astonishing FX sequences now, but this, at the time, was so new, so unexpected, so magical I knew I was in another world.
The Adventures of Robin Hood - the duel on the stairs. I’ve always loved swashbucklers and this early Technicolor attempt is still, more than sixty years on, one of the finest. Basil Rathbone as the dastardly Sheriff of Nottingham fights the dashing Errol Flynn’s Robin Hood. The sound of steel on steel reverbates as the swords clash and the witty repartee flows. Their shadows are outlined on the stone walls of the castle as Rathbone and Flynn duel their way down the long, circular stone staircase of Nottingham Castle. One of the greatest images in movie history. I’ve since been to the real Nottingham Castle which looks nothing like that - impressive as it is though. However, it does have a wonderful series of tunnels cut into the rock beneath the dungeons which spiral around, slowly descending to come out at the base - right next to the oldest pub (or so claimed, there are a few who say the same) in Britain, Ye Olde Trippe to Jerusalem Inne. Groovy.
The Phantom of the Opera - the masqued ball. The original 1920s silent version with the great Lon Chaney Senior. This is an early film replete with amazing imagery: punting through the flooded foundations of the Paris Opera, the Opera House itself, Chaney’s amazing makeup when his mask is removed (he used real rings inside his nose to give that effect - talk about suffering for your art). In the middle of this amazing silent film however is a very early experiment in colour reproduction. A masqued ball is underway, the revellers dancing with gay abandon. All comes to a halt as a figure descends the great staircase of the Opera - a crimson-robed, skull-masked Red Death walking amongst the happy, carefree revellers in an image straight from Poe. The early film colour is imperfect and gives a fantastically lurid finish to the palette. The scene finishes with the young lovers fleeing this apparition to the roof of the Opera. Unaware that he has followed them, the camera tilts up from their embrace to take in the Phantom in his Red Death costume, his cloak fluttering in the wind on top of the Paris Opera… Stunning.
Citizen Kane - the breakfast table. Another classic film stuffed with amazingly innovative visual imagination. One of the more small-scale, intimate scenes is the breakfast table of the newly married Kanes. A few, short scenes with a tiny amount of dialogue in a montage of overlapping dissolves conveys so much more than tenpages of dialogue ever could. Starting with the happy couple breakfasting at a small table after a wonderful night on the town, we move to a bigger table and smaller chat, to a bigger table and arguments and finally a huge table with husband and wife sitting in stony silence behind their newspapers. Love turning to despair and isolation, all in a few seconds.
Casablanca - the Marseilles scene. Another old film which bulges with classic scenes. This, however, sums up that brave, defiant spirit of the fight against the Nazis. Major Stracher leads a group of German officers in the German national anthem during a night out in Rick’s Café Americane. Resistance leader Victor Lazlo leaves the side of his wife Ilsa (the beautiful Ingrid Bergman) and crosses to the house band. “The Marseilles - play it!” The band looks at Rick (Bogart) who simply nods. The Marseilles starts quietly. As the sound reaches through the crowd the French and others fleeing Europe stop and stand up, joining in. The Germans sing louder before giving up, being drowned out by a gloriously defiant song of liberation. The message is clear - the going is tough, but the bad guys are not going to win. They are not going to win.
The Outlaw Josey Wales - the Indian camp scene. After a long literal and symbolic journey for tortured soul Wales after the Civil War he seems to have reached a place where he can be at peace, in a small farm steading with the settlers he rescued. A return to hearth and home and love seems to beckon - until the local natives attack. After a furious defence night falls. As dawn breaks next day Wales mounted up and ridden off, straight for the Indian camp. He enters utterly alone, surrounded by Braves. The Chief rides up to him, asking him if he is mad. Wales (Eastwood) explains to him that they can choose to live together on the vast lands of the New West or they can die together in battle. The chief, looking at this lone gunman surrounded by his warriors asks him who he is to come into his land with such pronouncements. “I’m Josey Wales,” answers Eastwood. There is a Pinter-esque pause as the chief looks at his fellows and finally back to Eastwood. “We have heard of you…” he says slowly. A few minutes later they peace pipe is out.
Alice in Wonderland (Disney version) - Unbirthday. Alice at the Mad Hatter’s tea party celebrating all of their un-birthdays. Carroll’s bizarre imagination married to Golden Age Disney animation.
Cyrano de Bergerac - the duel in verse. Right at the beginning of this magnificent film Gerard Depardiue’s Cyrano follows a foppish young noble outside the theatre. The fopp has insulted Cyrano who then humiliates his learning by reciting dozens of insults he could have used if he had a brain. This results in a sword duel during which Cyrano creates a poem of the duel while fighting. And all for the unspoken unrequited love of Roxanne, who had schemed to marry her against her will. “I fought not against such lies, dear cousin, but for your bright eyes.” Romantic, beautifully photographed swashbuckling action with wit.
The Big Blue - the free-diving. Marc Barr's dolphin-like diver (Jacque Mayall, anmed for a real diver) descends to the depths without any support equipment. His heart slows down like a dolphin's as the depth increases. The clear, blue crystal of the Medditeranean becomes deep blue, midnight blue then finally black. Shot on luxurious 70MM widescreen we see a tiny spot on the screen - it is Mayall descending in seeming slow motion, a tiny figure, alone, falling into the ever-darkening space deep beneath the waves. Beautiful, serene, inspiring.
Reading my dear chum Sweet Rouge’s blog, Flights of Fancy I had a look at the list of 100 films she had cribbed from the Internet Movie Database, where a poll is ongoing for the top 250 movies. Sweet had listed the top 100 and highlighted in bold the ones she had watched, being scrupulously honest by not marking ones that she has only seen parts of. Looking down the list I realised that there are perhaps two I haven’t seen in their entirety. I know I watch a lot of films of all types, but it’s when you check a list like this that you realise just how many. A few years back Empire movie magazine gave away a booklet of the top films of all time that you should have in your collection. My then flatmate Brendan (another big movie buff) and I went through the list and realised we had seen pretty much all of them and, between us, we had most of them on tape.
Rather than make a list of my own top movies I thought I'd perhaps list instead some Triple Ms. What is a Triple M, you ask? A Magical Movie Moment - those scenes which stay in your head forever; you replay them in your mind, you quote them liberally, reference them often.
Heathers, the finale outside the hell of High School. As the assembly inside roars approval of the cheerleaders (well, who wouldn’t?) JD (Slater) stands with his bomb strapped around his body and asks a bruised and bloody Heather (my darling Winona) what she wants as he activates the timer and waits for her to intervene. She calmly takes a battered cigarette out of her ripped jacket and lights it; “cool guys like you - out of my life.” BANG!
Star Wars - technically Episode IV: A New Hope as we now have to call it. Back in ‘77 though it was simply called Star Wars to a generation of wide-eyed kids. As many of you know I’m not only a cineaste, I studied films at college (so I am officially allowed to bullshit about the media!). One of the things we used to discuss when studying classic films was the fact that you were looking back with hindsight - you couldn’t really put yourself in the position of those original audiences seeing that film, that scene for the first time. Well, in this case I was in the original audience. I sat there, all of ten years old, the perfect age to first see this film, in the dark with my parents on either side of me. After the Flash Gordon-style prologue had scrolled across the scene there came a huge, deep bass rumbling. John Williams’ music pounded out on timpani as a small spaceship roared across the screen, followed by the most enormous starship as an Imperial Star Destroyer powers across the movie screen from a close-up perspective. And it kept going. And going, and going… We’re so used to astonishing FX sequences now, but this, at the time, was so new, so unexpected, so magical I knew I was in another world.
The Adventures of Robin Hood - the duel on the stairs. I’ve always loved swashbucklers and this early Technicolor attempt is still, more than sixty years on, one of the finest. Basil Rathbone as the dastardly Sheriff of Nottingham fights the dashing Errol Flynn’s Robin Hood. The sound of steel on steel reverbates as the swords clash and the witty repartee flows. Their shadows are outlined on the stone walls of the castle as Rathbone and Flynn duel their way down the long, circular stone staircase of Nottingham Castle. One of the greatest images in movie history. I’ve since been to the real Nottingham Castle which looks nothing like that - impressive as it is though. However, it does have a wonderful series of tunnels cut into the rock beneath the dungeons which spiral around, slowly descending to come out at the base - right next to the oldest pub (or so claimed, there are a few who say the same) in Britain, Ye Olde Trippe to Jerusalem Inne. Groovy.
The Phantom of the Opera - the masqued ball. The original 1920s silent version with the great Lon Chaney Senior. This is an early film replete with amazing imagery: punting through the flooded foundations of the Paris Opera, the Opera House itself, Chaney’s amazing makeup when his mask is removed (he used real rings inside his nose to give that effect - talk about suffering for your art). In the middle of this amazing silent film however is a very early experiment in colour reproduction. A masqued ball is underway, the revellers dancing with gay abandon. All comes to a halt as a figure descends the great staircase of the Opera - a crimson-robed, skull-masked Red Death walking amongst the happy, carefree revellers in an image straight from Poe. The early film colour is imperfect and gives a fantastically lurid finish to the palette. The scene finishes with the young lovers fleeing this apparition to the roof of the Opera. Unaware that he has followed them, the camera tilts up from their embrace to take in the Phantom in his Red Death costume, his cloak fluttering in the wind on top of the Paris Opera… Stunning.
Citizen Kane - the breakfast table. Another classic film stuffed with amazingly innovative visual imagination. One of the more small-scale, intimate scenes is the breakfast table of the newly married Kanes. A few, short scenes with a tiny amount of dialogue in a montage of overlapping dissolves conveys so much more than tenpages of dialogue ever could. Starting with the happy couple breakfasting at a small table after a wonderful night on the town, we move to a bigger table and smaller chat, to a bigger table and arguments and finally a huge table with husband and wife sitting in stony silence behind their newspapers. Love turning to despair and isolation, all in a few seconds.
Casablanca - the Marseilles scene. Another old film which bulges with classic scenes. This, however, sums up that brave, defiant spirit of the fight against the Nazis. Major Stracher leads a group of German officers in the German national anthem during a night out in Rick’s Café Americane. Resistance leader Victor Lazlo leaves the side of his wife Ilsa (the beautiful Ingrid Bergman) and crosses to the house band. “The Marseilles - play it!” The band looks at Rick (Bogart) who simply nods. The Marseilles starts quietly. As the sound reaches through the crowd the French and others fleeing Europe stop and stand up, joining in. The Germans sing louder before giving up, being drowned out by a gloriously defiant song of liberation. The message is clear - the going is tough, but the bad guys are not going to win. They are not going to win.
The Outlaw Josey Wales - the Indian camp scene. After a long literal and symbolic journey for tortured soul Wales after the Civil War he seems to have reached a place where he can be at peace, in a small farm steading with the settlers he rescued. A return to hearth and home and love seems to beckon - until the local natives attack. After a furious defence night falls. As dawn breaks next day Wales mounted up and ridden off, straight for the Indian camp. He enters utterly alone, surrounded by Braves. The Chief rides up to him, asking him if he is mad. Wales (Eastwood) explains to him that they can choose to live together on the vast lands of the New West or they can die together in battle. The chief, looking at this lone gunman surrounded by his warriors asks him who he is to come into his land with such pronouncements. “I’m Josey Wales,” answers Eastwood. There is a Pinter-esque pause as the chief looks at his fellows and finally back to Eastwood. “We have heard of you…” he says slowly. A few minutes later they peace pipe is out.
Alice in Wonderland (Disney version) - Unbirthday. Alice at the Mad Hatter’s tea party celebrating all of their un-birthdays. Carroll’s bizarre imagination married to Golden Age Disney animation.
Cyrano de Bergerac - the duel in verse. Right at the beginning of this magnificent film Gerard Depardiue’s Cyrano follows a foppish young noble outside the theatre. The fopp has insulted Cyrano who then humiliates his learning by reciting dozens of insults he could have used if he had a brain. This results in a sword duel during which Cyrano creates a poem of the duel while fighting. And all for the unspoken unrequited love of Roxanne, who had schemed to marry her against her will. “I fought not against such lies, dear cousin, but for your bright eyes.” Romantic, beautifully photographed swashbuckling action with wit.
The Big Blue - the free-diving. Marc Barr's dolphin-like diver (Jacque Mayall, anmed for a real diver) descends to the depths without any support equipment. His heart slows down like a dolphin's as the depth increases. The clear, blue crystal of the Medditeranean becomes deep blue, midnight blue then finally black. Shot on luxurious 70MM widescreen we see a tiny spot on the screen - it is Mayall descending in seeming slow motion, a tiny figure, alone, falling into the ever-darkening space deep beneath the waves. Beautiful, serene, inspiring.
Cardinal Chunder
Had a most unwelcome visit from my old acquaintance Cardinal Chunder this morning. Chunder bunny city. Not the nicest way to start the day - leaping from bed in haste to the great, white porcelain telephone to make a call.
Feeling somewhat better now it all seems to be out of my system and I’ve had some sleep to recover. Feeling more lucid I cast my mind back - what caused this display of pyrotechnic hurling? Ah, yes, last night’s meal. Hmmm - note to self: be a little more careful when making home-made blue cheese sauce. I knew I shouldn’t have used that hemlock in the back of the spice rack. Very silly thing to use - it was clearly past its use-by date.
Had a most unwelcome visit from my old acquaintance Cardinal Chunder this morning. Chunder bunny city. Not the nicest way to start the day - leaping from bed in haste to the great, white porcelain telephone to make a call.
Feeling somewhat better now it all seems to be out of my system and I’ve had some sleep to recover. Feeling more lucid I cast my mind back - what caused this display of pyrotechnic hurling? Ah, yes, last night’s meal. Hmmm - note to self: be a little more careful when making home-made blue cheese sauce. I knew I shouldn’t have used that hemlock in the back of the spice rack. Very silly thing to use - it was clearly past its use-by date.
Friday, January 16, 2004
Caveat II
I would just like to add to Matthew's recent statement - approach with body armour and chocolate biscuits. Of course, of you're a British soldier, the body armour may be out of the question. And why should Jeff Hoon resign over this? The same defence minster who pissed off on holiday as the war began and on yet another holiday while Dr Kelly was being buried after the leaking of the lies the government fed us about WMDs spiralled to ridiculous proportions. And as a junior minister commented, this was resignation material as it was a niggling glitch. I'm sure this is a great comfort to the fallen soldier's widow.
Anyway, if anyone else says I am violent I will cut their head off with a Claymore, scoop out their brains to feed to my cats then go bowling with their skull. Maybe ten-pin, maybe lawn bowls, I haven't decided yet. Violent? Moi? I rarely hit anyone - bruises heal too quickly; my withering barbs and sarcams last forever :-).
I would just like to add to Matthew's recent statement - approach with body armour and chocolate biscuits. Of course, of you're a British soldier, the body armour may be out of the question. And why should Jeff Hoon resign over this? The same defence minster who pissed off on holiday as the war began and on yet another holiday while Dr Kelly was being buried after the leaking of the lies the government fed us about WMDs spiralled to ridiculous proportions. And as a junior minister commented, this was resignation material as it was a niggling glitch. I'm sure this is a great comfort to the fallen soldier's widow.
Anyway, if anyone else says I am violent I will cut their head off with a Claymore, scoop out their brains to feed to my cats then go bowling with their skull. Maybe ten-pin, maybe lawn bowls, I haven't decided yet. Violent? Moi? I rarely hit anyone - bruises heal too quickly; my withering barbs and sarcams last forever :-).
Autistic
One of my mate, Bobby McKay, has himself on the BBC news today concerning the possible ramifications of anti-social orders on autistic kids (he works for and autistic charity). Certainly concerning, but I couldn't help but wonder - what if they were dealing with someone who was autistic and a Ned? I can save time on their research behavioural problems. - Behavioural problems not respodning to normal discipline? Could be autism. Check appearance: jogging pants tucked into socks, Kappa tops, baseball hat worn back at ridiculous angle? Ned.
One of my mate, Bobby McKay, has himself on the BBC news today concerning the possible ramifications of anti-social orders on autistic kids (he works for and autistic charity). Certainly concerning, but I couldn't help but wonder - what if they were dealing with someone who was autistic and a Ned? I can save time on their research behavioural problems. - Behavioural problems not respodning to normal discipline? Could be autism. Check appearance: jogging pants tucked into socks, Kappa tops, baseball hat worn back at ridiculous angle? Ned.
Silky smooth
Can I just take this opportunity to comment on the smug smeghead Kilroy Silk's resignation from the BB of C after his racist attack in the newspapers by quoting Nelson Munce and say: "HA-ha!"
Jackson
Michael Jackson. I don't think I trust myself to comment.
Can I just take this opportunity to comment on the smug smeghead Kilroy Silk's resignation from the BB of C after his racist attack in the newspapers by quoting Nelson Munce and say: "HA-ha!"
Jackson
Michael Jackson. I don't think I trust myself to comment.
Thursday, January 15, 2004
X-Men
Got this link from my Californian chum Sweet Rouge's blog - take the test and find out which X-Men you are. Cool :-)
Sooooo....
You are Professor X!
You are a very effective teacher, and you are very
committed to those who learn from you. You put
your all into everything you do, to some extent
because you fear failure more than anything
else. You are always seeking self-improvement,
even in areas where there is nothing you can do
to improve.
Which X-Men character are you most like?
brought to you by Quizilla
Well, there are worse things to be compared to than Patrick Stewart :-). And I'm not really hairy enough to be Wolverine.
Got this link from my Californian chum Sweet Rouge's blog - take the test and find out which X-Men you are. Cool :-)
Sooooo....
You are Professor X!
You are a very effective teacher, and you are very
committed to those who learn from you. You put
your all into everything you do, to some extent
because you fear failure more than anything
else. You are always seeking self-improvement,
even in areas where there is nothing you can do
to improve.
Which X-Men character are you most like?
brought to you by Quizilla
Well, there are worse things to be compared to than Patrick Stewart :-). And I'm not really hairy enough to be Wolverine.
Feed the world
Just got a newsletter from the Hunger Site:
You and other supporters rose to the challenge in 2003 -- over 45 million cups of food were funded for the hungry around the world...
Funding generated by clicks on the "Give Free Food" button gave 43,827,602 cups to those in need. And, shopping in The Hunger Site store generated funding for an additional 1,818,600 cups of staple food.
Isn't that incredible? All the more reason to keep clicking. Once a day every time you log on - a few seconds and you really can make a difference. It staggers me that in the 21st century so many millions still go hungry every night. We can spend billions on dubious wars and foreign adventures but our governments cannot - or will not - bring the same resources and organisation to bear on feeding people. Food pracels are a hell of a lot easier to drop than cluster bombs. They cost less and they soothe troubles, instead of exacerbating them. People who have been given food and clean water by us are going to feel a lot more well disposed to us than people whose country we've invaded, whatever the pretext.
That's not the main reason for doing it though, although it is a good, pragmatic one. The main reason is much, much simpler - it's the right thing to do.
Just got a newsletter from the Hunger Site:
You and other supporters rose to the challenge in 2003 -- over 45 million cups of food were funded for the hungry around the world...
Funding generated by clicks on the "Give Free Food" button gave 43,827,602 cups to those in need. And, shopping in The Hunger Site store generated funding for an additional 1,818,600 cups of staple food.
Isn't that incredible? All the more reason to keep clicking. Once a day every time you log on - a few seconds and you really can make a difference. It staggers me that in the 21st century so many millions still go hungry every night. We can spend billions on dubious wars and foreign adventures but our governments cannot - or will not - bring the same resources and organisation to bear on feeding people. Food pracels are a hell of a lot easier to drop than cluster bombs. They cost less and they soothe troubles, instead of exacerbating them. People who have been given food and clean water by us are going to feel a lot more well disposed to us than people whose country we've invaded, whatever the pretext.
That's not the main reason for doing it though, although it is a good, pragmatic one. The main reason is much, much simpler - it's the right thing to do.
Wednesday, January 14, 2004
Somewhere on the other side of this wide night
and the distance between us. I am thinking of you.
The room is turning slowly away from the moon.
This is pleasurable. Or shall I cross that out and say
it is sad? In one of the tenses I singing
an impossible song of desire that you cannot hear.
La lala la. See? I close my eyes and imagine
the dark hills I would have to cross
to reach you. For I am in love with you and this
is what it is like or what it is like in words.
Carol Ann Duffy: Words, Wide Night
and the distance between us. I am thinking of you.
The room is turning slowly away from the moon.
This is pleasurable. Or shall I cross that out and say
it is sad? In one of the tenses I singing
an impossible song of desire that you cannot hear.
La lala la. See? I close my eyes and imagine
the dark hills I would have to cross
to reach you. For I am in love with you and this
is what it is like or what it is like in words.
Carol Ann Duffy: Words, Wide Night
Awards
Ariel had a nice item on the Alien Blog about literary elitism and awards. Strangely enough, it dovetails with one of my Rants of the Week. I came back to work - oh joy - and found the new campaign is about to begin. Part of the new offers will be a special offer on a range of prize-winning books, along with leaflets. Very nice idea and a bit more up market than the (now) usual style of campaign. However, flciking through the list I notice Booker, Whitbread and othe prizes - even foreign prizes such as the Pulitzer, which doesn't really count for much in the UK. But guess what's in there? No SF award winners. What a surprise.
No BSFA, no Hugo, no Nebula. You would think that at least they would have the Arthur C Clarke winner in there - the most presitgious British SF award which each year has some of the best writing of any genre on the shortlist. And where were the books that won the Crime Writer's Association Gold Daggers? Not only is this literary elitism to shun these awards over others it is pretty short-sighted for a commercial book seller. SF and Crime are two of the biggest selling genres on the planet and well run sections of crime and SF tend to bring in multiple sales and repeat customers. Running a camaign featuring award-winning books would be a good chance for a bookseller to introduce their mroe literary customers to the finest of genre writing and vice versa. But what do I know about it? I've only sold books for years, obviously I know less than the professional marketers at our head office.
Fly me to the moon and let me play amongst the stars,
Have you seen my Beagle, I think it's lost on Mars...
Ariel had a nice item on the Alien Blog about literary elitism and awards. Strangely enough, it dovetails with one of my Rants of the Week. I came back to work - oh joy - and found the new campaign is about to begin. Part of the new offers will be a special offer on a range of prize-winning books, along with leaflets. Very nice idea and a bit more up market than the (now) usual style of campaign. However, flciking through the list I notice Booker, Whitbread and othe prizes - even foreign prizes such as the Pulitzer, which doesn't really count for much in the UK. But guess what's in there? No SF award winners. What a surprise.
No BSFA, no Hugo, no Nebula. You would think that at least they would have the Arthur C Clarke winner in there - the most presitgious British SF award which each year has some of the best writing of any genre on the shortlist. And where were the books that won the Crime Writer's Association Gold Daggers? Not only is this literary elitism to shun these awards over others it is pretty short-sighted for a commercial book seller. SF and Crime are two of the biggest selling genres on the planet and well run sections of crime and SF tend to bring in multiple sales and repeat customers. Running a camaign featuring award-winning books would be a good chance for a bookseller to introduce their mroe literary customers to the finest of genre writing and vice versa. But what do I know about it? I've only sold books for years, obviously I know less than the professional marketers at our head office.
Fly me to the moon and let me play amongst the stars,
Have you seen my Beagle, I think it's lost on Mars...
Splendid
At last one of the movies I have been waiting months for has arrived - American Splendour. Partly a drama and partly a biopic/documentary it follows grumpy misanthrope Harvey Pekar through his blue-collar life in a crummy neighbourhood of run-down Cleveland. Talking with his friend Robert Crumb, Harvey decides that everyday life is as complex as anything in books and teams up with Crumb - by then making big waves as an artist - to produce a slice of working-class, everyday life, with himself and his co-workers and friends as characters.
The comic was unique at the time - this was long before the likes of Joe Sacco or Dan Clowes were being published. I came to them in the second phase of my comic book reading life in my mid-twenties. Looking for something different I came across a dog-eared copy of the collected American Splendour graphic novel.
I’ve been dying to see the film since I heard about it going into production. Alex managed to see both the film and Pekar himself during last summer’s Edinburgh International Film Festival and told me it rocked. Well, I have to agree, I was not disappointed. It had the same mix of humour, tragedy and the ridiculousness of everyday life as the books. Watching it and thinking back on the books I was suddenly struck with the way in which AS pre-empted the modern media’s fascination with ‘reality’ shows. Long before the dreadful Big Brother or the staged ‘realism’ AS was bringing us a fascinating, almost voyeuristic look at someone’s life, warts and all.
Actors playing Harvey and his co-workers and friends play out the tale, interspersed with appearances by the real people and their comic-book incarnations too (you have to remember everyone in Harv’s life pretty much becomes a comics character too) - it’s a postmodernist’s dream come true. I especially loved the scenes with Harvey on the Letterman show, which reminded me very much of the trouble my hero Bill Hicks had with Letterman (who was a former colleague in the stand up clubs, which made it worse) described in the excellent biography American Scream. The people who created it obviously have a complete love and respect for the source material and have produced a remarkably unusual motion picture which compliments it perfectly - can’t recommend the film or the book (reprinted recently in the UK by Titan who nicely send me a lot of wonderful graphic novels) enough to anyone.
As a sidebar I found out when I went back to work this week that our one little branch had accounted for 16% of the sales of the graphic novel for the whole of our company. Bear in mind that Waterstone’s is the biggest book chain in the UK with about 200 stores yet our small branch whipped everyone’s ass. Then again we have beat the ass off other bookshops for years on the graphic novel front - the sheer volume of Palestine or League of Extraordinary Gentlemen we sold in 2003 is huge and often way above what even our massive super-store branches can manage. Marketing campaigns come and go, but the best way to really sell books - graphic or otherwise - is to have sections run by people who know what they’re doing and bring interest and passion to it. That’s worth far more than any head office campaign or advertising. And I’m sure when Matthew was commenting that all Waterstone’s were crap I’m sure he meant to add the caveat ‘except the nice Edinburgh one where my mates Alex and Joe run a fabulous SF section with a dynamic range of titles, reviews and tremendous author support’. Well, he better have meant that or I’ll have give his beard a nasty tug and hide all the signed copies of any new Ken MacLeod books from him. Heh.
At last one of the movies I have been waiting months for has arrived - American Splendour. Partly a drama and partly a biopic/documentary it follows grumpy misanthrope Harvey Pekar through his blue-collar life in a crummy neighbourhood of run-down Cleveland. Talking with his friend Robert Crumb, Harvey decides that everyday life is as complex as anything in books and teams up with Crumb - by then making big waves as an artist - to produce a slice of working-class, everyday life, with himself and his co-workers and friends as characters.
The comic was unique at the time - this was long before the likes of Joe Sacco or Dan Clowes were being published. I came to them in the second phase of my comic book reading life in my mid-twenties. Looking for something different I came across a dog-eared copy of the collected American Splendour graphic novel.
I’ve been dying to see the film since I heard about it going into production. Alex managed to see both the film and Pekar himself during last summer’s Edinburgh International Film Festival and told me it rocked. Well, I have to agree, I was not disappointed. It had the same mix of humour, tragedy and the ridiculousness of everyday life as the books. Watching it and thinking back on the books I was suddenly struck with the way in which AS pre-empted the modern media’s fascination with ‘reality’ shows. Long before the dreadful Big Brother or the staged ‘realism’ AS was bringing us a fascinating, almost voyeuristic look at someone’s life, warts and all.
Actors playing Harvey and his co-workers and friends play out the tale, interspersed with appearances by the real people and their comic-book incarnations too (you have to remember everyone in Harv’s life pretty much becomes a comics character too) - it’s a postmodernist’s dream come true. I especially loved the scenes with Harvey on the Letterman show, which reminded me very much of the trouble my hero Bill Hicks had with Letterman (who was a former colleague in the stand up clubs, which made it worse) described in the excellent biography American Scream. The people who created it obviously have a complete love and respect for the source material and have produced a remarkably unusual motion picture which compliments it perfectly - can’t recommend the film or the book (reprinted recently in the UK by Titan who nicely send me a lot of wonderful graphic novels) enough to anyone.
As a sidebar I found out when I went back to work this week that our one little branch had accounted for 16% of the sales of the graphic novel for the whole of our company. Bear in mind that Waterstone’s is the biggest book chain in the UK with about 200 stores yet our small branch whipped everyone’s ass. Then again we have beat the ass off other bookshops for years on the graphic novel front - the sheer volume of Palestine or League of Extraordinary Gentlemen we sold in 2003 is huge and often way above what even our massive super-store branches can manage. Marketing campaigns come and go, but the best way to really sell books - graphic or otherwise - is to have sections run by people who know what they’re doing and bring interest and passion to it. That’s worth far more than any head office campaign or advertising. And I’m sure when Matthew was commenting that all Waterstone’s were crap I’m sure he meant to add the caveat ‘except the nice Edinburgh one where my mates Alex and Joe run a fabulous SF section with a dynamic range of titles, reviews and tremendous author support’. Well, he better have meant that or I’ll have give his beard a nasty tug and hide all the signed copies of any new Ken MacLeod books from him. Heh.
Monday, January 12, 2004
Word association
Haven't done this so much recently, so this week's word association from Subliminal at Luna Nina:
Haven't done this so much recently, so this week's word association from Subliminal at Luna Nina:
- Mitchell:: bomber
- Mercury:: Freddie
- Cycle:: bike
- Engagement:: champagne
- Alternative:: energy
- Gang:: bang
- Emotional:: wreck
- Skinny:: dipping
- Hypochondriac:: fuckwit
- Insecure:: yes
Powerpuff
Informative article here on the possible price to be paid if the Scottish parliament goes ahead with the planned move to alternative, re-useable power sources as old nuclear stations are decomissioned in a few years. Some (predictable the Tories amongst them) are running scare tales that our electricity bills will go up enormously. They also say that green power won't make the energy it is supposed to and only works with a massive public subsidy.
Well, the first point may or may not be right - only proper investment and engineering will tell. On the second though, I am moved to wonder just how many billions of the British tax-payer's money has been spent under-writing fossil fuels (which make a huge profit, often for foreign companies and not much for Scotland despite all of our oil) and nuclear power? And I wonder, if we could have built a weapon of mass destruction from ocean turbines or wind engines would the government of the 40s and 50s have put billions into that instead?
Let's be honest, if we put a fraction of the effort and money into R&D for renewable energy as we did for our others over the years we would have highly efficient green power by now. Electric cars were racing a hudnred years ago - are you seriously telling me that in the 21st century, the age of probes to other worlds, nano-technology, high-speed computers, optical data networks and organ transplant surgery that we can't make an efficient, reliable, clean energy source for everyday use?.
Kudos to the Scottish parliament for being so determined to make this effort to bring green power into the mainstream and give it real political backing for once (helped by the PR system bringing in a brace of Green MSPs to help keep the wavering politicians from the mainstream on course). I can't help but think that even if the programme relies on more subsidies that this is not a bad thing. They wouldn't be subsidies, they would be an investment in our future adn of the future of the generations to come. Developing energy that we will be able to use for decade after decade, without ruining our magnificent countryside. Something that doesn't leave waste that will last tens of thousands of years and something that won't require millions just to shut them down at the end of their lives like the nuclear plants. And as a bonus, good, heart-working boffins like my mate Linus who went me the link could see their excellent, cutting-edge work being put to better use.
Informative article here on the possible price to be paid if the Scottish parliament goes ahead with the planned move to alternative, re-useable power sources as old nuclear stations are decomissioned in a few years. Some (predictable the Tories amongst them) are running scare tales that our electricity bills will go up enormously. They also say that green power won't make the energy it is supposed to and only works with a massive public subsidy.
Well, the first point may or may not be right - only proper investment and engineering will tell. On the second though, I am moved to wonder just how many billions of the British tax-payer's money has been spent under-writing fossil fuels (which make a huge profit, often for foreign companies and not much for Scotland despite all of our oil) and nuclear power? And I wonder, if we could have built a weapon of mass destruction from ocean turbines or wind engines would the government of the 40s and 50s have put billions into that instead?
Let's be honest, if we put a fraction of the effort and money into R&D for renewable energy as we did for our others over the years we would have highly efficient green power by now. Electric cars were racing a hudnred years ago - are you seriously telling me that in the 21st century, the age of probes to other worlds, nano-technology, high-speed computers, optical data networks and organ transplant surgery that we can't make an efficient, reliable, clean energy source for everyday use?.
Kudos to the Scottish parliament for being so determined to make this effort to bring green power into the mainstream and give it real political backing for once (helped by the PR system bringing in a brace of Green MSPs to help keep the wavering politicians from the mainstream on course). I can't help but think that even if the programme relies on more subsidies that this is not a bad thing. They wouldn't be subsidies, they would be an investment in our future adn of the future of the generations to come. Developing energy that we will be able to use for decade after decade, without ruining our magnificent countryside. Something that doesn't leave waste that will last tens of thousands of years and something that won't require millions just to shut them down at the end of their lives like the nuclear plants. And as a bonus, good, heart-working boffins like my mate Linus who went me the link could see their excellent, cutting-edge work being put to better use.
Wings
Following on from the prgramme earlier this year where Channel 4 trained a group of modern RAF fliers to re-enact the spectacular Dambusters raid - going from a supersonic, swing-wing Tornado with laser range finder, infra-red, radar and computer guidance to a Lancaster bomber aiming using some string and a nail on a small target while flying at night over water at 60 feet - they've taken a group of four RAF pilots and let them comepte for a chance to fly one of the few remaining airworthy Supermarine Spitfires.
Non Brits reading this probably won't quite get the veneration in which we hold the Spitfire and what she stands for. It was somewhat sobering however when the trainers on the programme informed the pilots that after 9 hours on the Spit they would be as experienced as most of the young pilots would have been when they were sent to front line squadrons in 1940 to await the vast air armada of Hitler's Luftwaffe. Imagine going into battle, totally outnumbered, facing a force which had over-run every ally you had in mere weeks and you had a whole 9 hours experience on your aircraft. And still they did it. A combination of engineering skill, design, technological know-how, sheer, unadulerated bravery and a healthy dollop of the luck which always seems to protect our islands when they really needed it.
Scary, scary stuff - there was even some fragments left from one pilot's camera gun (attached to his machine guns) recording a deadly duel in the sky from his point of view. One of the surviving pilots did remark that he couldn't quite believe what they were doing; that in the 20th century two countries would resort to this bloodshed. 60 years on and still our 'civilized' nations resort to these tactics all to easily.
Pacifist that I generally am, I have to admit that there's still a bit of the schoolboy in me that looks on in jealousy and wishes he was getting to fly this elegant machine. Come on, hands up - how many of you wanted to fly one when you were kids? Yep, I thought so.
Following on from the prgramme earlier this year where Channel 4 trained a group of modern RAF fliers to re-enact the spectacular Dambusters raid - going from a supersonic, swing-wing Tornado with laser range finder, infra-red, radar and computer guidance to a Lancaster bomber aiming using some string and a nail on a small target while flying at night over water at 60 feet - they've taken a group of four RAF pilots and let them comepte for a chance to fly one of the few remaining airworthy Supermarine Spitfires.
Non Brits reading this probably won't quite get the veneration in which we hold the Spitfire and what she stands for. It was somewhat sobering however when the trainers on the programme informed the pilots that after 9 hours on the Spit they would be as experienced as most of the young pilots would have been when they were sent to front line squadrons in 1940 to await the vast air armada of Hitler's Luftwaffe. Imagine going into battle, totally outnumbered, facing a force which had over-run every ally you had in mere weeks and you had a whole 9 hours experience on your aircraft. And still they did it. A combination of engineering skill, design, technological know-how, sheer, unadulerated bravery and a healthy dollop of the luck which always seems to protect our islands when they really needed it.
Scary, scary stuff - there was even some fragments left from one pilot's camera gun (attached to his machine guns) recording a deadly duel in the sky from his point of view. One of the surviving pilots did remark that he couldn't quite believe what they were doing; that in the 20th century two countries would resort to this bloodshed. 60 years on and still our 'civilized' nations resort to these tactics all to easily.
Pacifist that I generally am, I have to admit that there's still a bit of the schoolboy in me that looks on in jealousy and wishes he was getting to fly this elegant machine. Come on, hands up - how many of you wanted to fly one when you were kids? Yep, I thought so.
The horror... The horror of it all...
Top link on the news section of the mighty Alien for the Terror Tale site, with a nice line in body horror for all of us who still have a soft, festering, slowly mutating spot for David Cronenberg :-).
Top link on the news section of the mighty Alien for the Terror Tale site, with a nice line in body horror for all of us who still have a soft, festering, slowly mutating spot for David Cronenberg :-).
Sunday, January 11, 2004
Links
Somethign I've been meaning to figure out for ages - putting up some links - thanks for the tips to Ariel!
Somethign I've been meaning to figure out for ages - putting up some links - thanks for the tips to Ariel!
Dancin' shoes
I was at a ceilidh for the first time in ages last night in the nearby Caledonian Brewery (Ceilidhs at the Caley as they call them), home of the finest ales in the galaxy (and still happily independent) with a bunch of folks from the bookstore. Hot and sweaty, swriling and whirling and getting funky Scottish style. Ceilidhs (that's pronounced 'kayleeh' for the sassensachs amongst you and is a form of Scottish country dancing) are the most fun you can have with your clothes on. The band totally rocked, liberally mixing traditional Scottish folk music with jazz, blues, funk and dance beats and even wah-wah on the guitar (rock and roll ceilidh, gotta love it).
Didn't catch the name of the band, but they reminded me very much of another one I used to dance to a lot during my college days, Shoogelnifty, who mixed traditional Scottish and Irish folk music with modern dance beats and all sorts of world music (have you ever danced to a Scottish fiddle, Bodrhan drum, electric guitar, saxophone and a didgeridoo? It's irresistible). Most folk probably haven;t come across them, but they aren't so far from the better known Afro-Celtic Sound System.
I was at a ceilidh for the first time in ages last night in the nearby Caledonian Brewery (Ceilidhs at the Caley as they call them), home of the finest ales in the galaxy (and still happily independent) with a bunch of folks from the bookstore. Hot and sweaty, swriling and whirling and getting funky Scottish style. Ceilidhs (that's pronounced 'kayleeh' for the sassensachs amongst you and is a form of Scottish country dancing) are the most fun you can have with your clothes on. The band totally rocked, liberally mixing traditional Scottish folk music with jazz, blues, funk and dance beats and even wah-wah on the guitar (rock and roll ceilidh, gotta love it).
Didn't catch the name of the band, but they reminded me very much of another one I used to dance to a lot during my college days, Shoogelnifty, who mixed traditional Scottish and Irish folk music with modern dance beats and all sorts of world music (have you ever danced to a Scottish fiddle, Bodrhan drum, electric guitar, saxophone and a didgeridoo? It's irresistible). Most folk probably haven;t come across them, but they aren't so far from the better known Afro-Celtic Sound System.
Saturday, January 10, 2004
Heckleburger
Brilliant story on the BBC about some people who got onto the same readio frequency as their local drive-thru Burger King and used it to heckle customers. Can I have a Whopper? No, you're too fat, bugger off. Even funnier for me since it is in the home town of my friends Jan and Linus in sunny Troy, Michigan (also home of Walmart's headquarters as seen in Bowling for Columbine) and not far from the Points as seen in Gross Point Blanke.
Brilliant story on the BBC about some people who got onto the same readio frequency as their local drive-thru Burger King and used it to heckle customers. Can I have a Whopper? No, you're too fat, bugger off. Even funnier for me since it is in the home town of my friends Jan and Linus in sunny Troy, Michigan (also home of Walmart's headquarters as seen in Bowling for Columbine) and not far from the Points as seen in Gross Point Blanke.
Resolutions
I can't normally be bothered with New Year's resolutions, but here's one - apologies to those of you who have seen this type or reminder from me several times over the years. Yep, I'm pushing the Hunger Site once more. Click on it once a day and the advertisers (no, no spammers) pay for food doantions to the UN World Food Programme. A few seconds once a day when you're online and someone gets a meal, a good deed by mousce click, so do you karma some good and pelase spread it to anyone else you know. The site also has linsk to other charitable pages.
I can't normally be bothered with New Year's resolutions, but here's one - apologies to those of you who have seen this type or reminder from me several times over the years. Yep, I'm pushing the Hunger Site once more. Click on it once a day and the advertisers (no, no spammers) pay for food doantions to the UN World Food Programme. A few seconds once a day when you're online and someone gets a meal, a good deed by mousce click, so do you karma some good and pelase spread it to anyone else you know. The site also has linsk to other charitable pages.
Archaeological oops
Scottish archaeological in Fife have made something of a booboo. Guess they can't all be Tony Robinson and his Time Team, eh? Thanks to Kate for the story.
Scottish archaeological in Fife have made something of a booboo. Guess they can't all be Tony Robinson and his Time Team, eh? Thanks to Kate for the story.
Zen and the art of swordsmanship
Finally got to see a film I have been waiting eagerly to watch for a few months now, Tom Cruise’s Last Samurai. It’s been widely tipped a hot contender for Oscar glory this year, and it’s not hard to see why. Quite beautifully shot, this is an alluring tale of a dying age meeting the new, industrialised world (personified by the US government desperate to sell weapons and training to the Emperor to bring his forces up to date - quite a brave anti-Imperialist stance on US foreign policy to take at this time). A man haunted by his past deeds in the service of his country, another man (the extremely strong Ken Watanabe) trying to hold onto his traditions and honour. Yes, you kind of know these two are going to come together somehow, but this is far from a clichéd story.
Director Zwick, who brought us Glory - the touching tale of immense bravery by the first coloured regiment to fight for the Union during the Civil War, brings a fascinating period to life, managing the small details and the sweeping epic nature of the tale deftly, giving Cruise both a good action role as well as a meaty piece of acting that most thespians would love to get their teeth into, with lush, beautiful cinematography (shot in widescreen). There is a wonderfully unspoken and unfufilled romance going on between Cruise and the widow one of the samurai he has killed, culminating in one of the most intimate love scenes on celluloid without any nudity, sex only the slightest hint of a kiss as she dresses him for the final battle - it's wonderfully romantic and beautiful, veyr much in the vein of the Medieval Romances where the chivalric knight would love his lady from afar with a pure, unsullied passion (indeed the parallels between the Bushido code and the European code of chivalry are strong trhoughout).
And despite all his detractors, I can’t fault Cruise for the effort he puts into his movies. He spent months training for the role and is quite believable as a swordsman. As someone who has spent years fencing he seemed natural to me, whereas most movie swordplay is obviously bogus to anyone who has fought with a sword. Cruise moves easily into the correct posture and balance before engaging, it’s quite authentic. The way the sword duels are shot after he has trained with the Samurai show the still point that is necessary for the finest blade work; a friend tells him of his technique in broken English that he has ‘too much mind’. He needs ‘no mind’. When he approaches this point it is handled very well, the slowing down of time but with the total awareness of everything around you, the body moving effortlessly.
Watching those scenes I was pretty sure that either the principle of photography or the director had duelled before. When you achieve the perfect bout this is exactly how it feels. Over the 8 or 9 years I fenced in foil and sabre only twice did I ever achieve this state. It’s not something you can will yourself into, it just happens, just as Cruise‘s character finds. Utter stillness within yourself, ironically at a moment when your body is reacting with the most rapid and graceful movements. No conscious thought but you are still aware somehow.
It is difficult to verbalise such an experience - the only truly Zen moments I’ve ever had in my life. It’s like the Buddhist notion of the extinction of ego and self to embrace everything. Absolutely no conscious thought, no awareness of self, you just are. And everything around you is revealed in hyper-clarity. Every detail, every movement - I know it sounds like new age bullshit to many of you, but it’s not something you’ll understand unless you’ve experienced it. Everything was so slow, I could see every move my opponent was making and see my own sabre easily deflecting them, cutting under his guard again and again, without any thought or will directing it. All so slow that I had no concept of time passing. Needless to say when you act on this level without any conscious thought in a duel you are pretty much unbeatable. In a martial art where parries and ripostes are measured in milliseconds, the person who acts without thinking is as fast as it is possible to be. There was none of this ‘the sword seemed to be part of my arm’ nonsense you get in hackneyed fantasies. Such a concept misses the point - there was no sword, no arm, no me, no distinction, just everything.
It’s quite remarkable to me that in the middle of a ferociously fast sabre duel I could slip into this state of grace; it was the most peacefully still few moments I have ever known. I would dearly love to experience such a moment again, but it’s not something that you can really will yourself into. You are either in the right moment for it or you are not, but I am grateful to have experienced it - I suspect many people go through their entire life without ever experiencing such a moment of clarity or spiritual purity.
The film itself is an original script, but drawn from a true historical event. There is an interesting Hollywood versus History page here which realates the fictional cahracters to the historical ones who inspired them.
Finally got to see a film I have been waiting eagerly to watch for a few months now, Tom Cruise’s Last Samurai. It’s been widely tipped a hot contender for Oscar glory this year, and it’s not hard to see why. Quite beautifully shot, this is an alluring tale of a dying age meeting the new, industrialised world (personified by the US government desperate to sell weapons and training to the Emperor to bring his forces up to date - quite a brave anti-Imperialist stance on US foreign policy to take at this time). A man haunted by his past deeds in the service of his country, another man (the extremely strong Ken Watanabe) trying to hold onto his traditions and honour. Yes, you kind of know these two are going to come together somehow, but this is far from a clichéd story.
Director Zwick, who brought us Glory - the touching tale of immense bravery by the first coloured regiment to fight for the Union during the Civil War, brings a fascinating period to life, managing the small details and the sweeping epic nature of the tale deftly, giving Cruise both a good action role as well as a meaty piece of acting that most thespians would love to get their teeth into, with lush, beautiful cinematography (shot in widescreen). There is a wonderfully unspoken and unfufilled romance going on between Cruise and the widow one of the samurai he has killed, culminating in one of the most intimate love scenes on celluloid without any nudity, sex only the slightest hint of a kiss as she dresses him for the final battle - it's wonderfully romantic and beautiful, veyr much in the vein of the Medieval Romances where the chivalric knight would love his lady from afar with a pure, unsullied passion (indeed the parallels between the Bushido code and the European code of chivalry are strong trhoughout).
And despite all his detractors, I can’t fault Cruise for the effort he puts into his movies. He spent months training for the role and is quite believable as a swordsman. As someone who has spent years fencing he seemed natural to me, whereas most movie swordplay is obviously bogus to anyone who has fought with a sword. Cruise moves easily into the correct posture and balance before engaging, it’s quite authentic. The way the sword duels are shot after he has trained with the Samurai show the still point that is necessary for the finest blade work; a friend tells him of his technique in broken English that he has ‘too much mind’. He needs ‘no mind’. When he approaches this point it is handled very well, the slowing down of time but with the total awareness of everything around you, the body moving effortlessly.
Watching those scenes I was pretty sure that either the principle of photography or the director had duelled before. When you achieve the perfect bout this is exactly how it feels. Over the 8 or 9 years I fenced in foil and sabre only twice did I ever achieve this state. It’s not something you can will yourself into, it just happens, just as Cruise‘s character finds. Utter stillness within yourself, ironically at a moment when your body is reacting with the most rapid and graceful movements. No conscious thought but you are still aware somehow.
It is difficult to verbalise such an experience - the only truly Zen moments I’ve ever had in my life. It’s like the Buddhist notion of the extinction of ego and self to embrace everything. Absolutely no conscious thought, no awareness of self, you just are. And everything around you is revealed in hyper-clarity. Every detail, every movement - I know it sounds like new age bullshit to many of you, but it’s not something you’ll understand unless you’ve experienced it. Everything was so slow, I could see every move my opponent was making and see my own sabre easily deflecting them, cutting under his guard again and again, without any thought or will directing it. All so slow that I had no concept of time passing. Needless to say when you act on this level without any conscious thought in a duel you are pretty much unbeatable. In a martial art where parries and ripostes are measured in milliseconds, the person who acts without thinking is as fast as it is possible to be. There was none of this ‘the sword seemed to be part of my arm’ nonsense you get in hackneyed fantasies. Such a concept misses the point - there was no sword, no arm, no me, no distinction, just everything.
It’s quite remarkable to me that in the middle of a ferociously fast sabre duel I could slip into this state of grace; it was the most peacefully still few moments I have ever known. I would dearly love to experience such a moment again, but it’s not something that you can really will yourself into. You are either in the right moment for it or you are not, but I am grateful to have experienced it - I suspect many people go through their entire life without ever experiencing such a moment of clarity or spiritual purity.
The film itself is an original script, but drawn from a true historical event. There is an interesting Hollywood versus History page here which realates the fictional cahracters to the historical ones who inspired them.
Dreamtime
I had an odd dream last night, which followed on to one I had a few nights ago. I was buying a new home. Nothing unusual there, surely? But this home was, like a Hobbit dwelling, partly underground, taking up several stories carved into a roughly conical shaped hill. This conical hill was also an old, overgrown cemetery. A winding path meandered through the broken-down stones and crumbling mausoleums, descending from the gates down the hill towards the door of the house, carved, like the windows, into the front of the hill itself. A few nights ago I dreamt I had found this place and decided to purchase it; now I’ve had a sequel dream where I was moving into it and trying to ascertain if any of the rooms within could be enlarged without perhaps bumping into the subterranean resting place of the other residents.
I like these dreams and I love this home. Superbly Gothic and unusual, while the largely underground construction makes it very environmentally friendly. I think I’d like to live there, like a cross between a bone yard dwelling Hobbit and a Gothic Tellytubby via Charles Addams
I had an odd dream last night, which followed on to one I had a few nights ago. I was buying a new home. Nothing unusual there, surely? But this home was, like a Hobbit dwelling, partly underground, taking up several stories carved into a roughly conical shaped hill. This conical hill was also an old, overgrown cemetery. A winding path meandered through the broken-down stones and crumbling mausoleums, descending from the gates down the hill towards the door of the house, carved, like the windows, into the front of the hill itself. A few nights ago I dreamt I had found this place and decided to purchase it; now I’ve had a sequel dream where I was moving into it and trying to ascertain if any of the rooms within could be enlarged without perhaps bumping into the subterranean resting place of the other residents.
I like these dreams and I love this home. Superbly Gothic and unusual, while the largely underground construction makes it very environmentally friendly. I think I’d like to live there, like a cross between a bone yard dwelling Hobbit and a Gothic Tellytubby via Charles Addams
Friday, January 9, 2004
US Lowers Terrorist Alert Level
The Bush administration today announced they were reducing their alert status from Orange - Very, very, very dangerous, oh my god, we're all going to die horribly - to Yellow Alert - suspect everyone and make everyone have a visa to get into the country, even citizens from you closest ally. Odd how increased alerts come whenever the adminstration needs to delfect the attention of the citizens or give them something else to think about when they're sitting htere going, hmm, we didn't find any WMDs in Iraw, we've killed a lot of innocents, a lot of US troops are being sucked into an ongoing meat grinder and the world is pissed off with us - did the government lie to us? Oh no, an ORange Alert! Must stop thinking and must trust the Minsitry of Homeland Security - WAR IS PEACE, IGNORANCE IS STRENGTH - and not question authority.
Anyway, we at the Gazette realise these alerts are becoming confusing to people, so we have created this handy list for you so you may know your terror alerts:
PINK ALERT: terrorist attack on San Francisco or other major gay-friendly city or possibly on the Barbie factory.
GREEN ALERT: Fundamentalists have poisoned America's supply of broccoli.
PURPLE ALERT: Terrorist intend to infiltrate Glam Rock concert.
SILVER ALERT: elderly pensioner terrorists threaten attack on Florida retirement homes.
STRIPED ALERT: Deadly zebras trained as killers will be unleashed.
POLKA DOT ALERT: Terrorists threaten use of German Oompah music and bad waltzes.
YELLOW ALERT: Raise defense fields but not enough to protect you from the Wrath of Khan beating up on your engine room.
RED ALERT: Room goes dark, red bulb goes on (you may have to change it) and klaxon goes 'whoop...whoop...whoop' while you rock from side to side before being flung from you chair and the guy in the red shirt has a console explode in his face.
We hope this is useful.
The Bush administration today announced they were reducing their alert status from Orange - Very, very, very dangerous, oh my god, we're all going to die horribly - to Yellow Alert - suspect everyone and make everyone have a visa to get into the country, even citizens from you closest ally. Odd how increased alerts come whenever the adminstration needs to delfect the attention of the citizens or give them something else to think about when they're sitting htere going, hmm, we didn't find any WMDs in Iraw, we've killed a lot of innocents, a lot of US troops are being sucked into an ongoing meat grinder and the world is pissed off with us - did the government lie to us? Oh no, an ORange Alert! Must stop thinking and must trust the Minsitry of Homeland Security - WAR IS PEACE, IGNORANCE IS STRENGTH - and not question authority.
Anyway, we at the Gazette realise these alerts are becoming confusing to people, so we have created this handy list for you so you may know your terror alerts:
PINK ALERT: terrorist attack on San Francisco or other major gay-friendly city or possibly on the Barbie factory.
GREEN ALERT: Fundamentalists have poisoned America's supply of broccoli.
PURPLE ALERT: Terrorist intend to infiltrate Glam Rock concert.
SILVER ALERT: elderly pensioner terrorists threaten attack on Florida retirement homes.
STRIPED ALERT: Deadly zebras trained as killers will be unleashed.
POLKA DOT ALERT: Terrorists threaten use of German Oompah music and bad waltzes.
YELLOW ALERT: Raise defense fields but not enough to protect you from the Wrath of Khan beating up on your engine room.
RED ALERT: Room goes dark, red bulb goes on (you may have to change it) and klaxon goes 'whoop...whoop...whoop' while you rock from side to side before being flung from you chair and the guy in the red shirt has a console explode in his face.
We hope this is useful.
Web Scam
Got one of those rather obvious scam emails the other day claiming I had won the lottery in a foreign country - in this case the Netherlands - and, predictably telling me I would have to come over to Holland and fill in official papers and pay for them to get access to my huge win... There's been a fair bit of this on the news of late and while I am too smart and far too bloody cynical to fall for something like this a lot of people do fall for them through a mixture of trust, lack of guile or plain greed. Anyway, I forwarded it to the Web Police and got this repsonse within 24 hours. I doubted they could do much to be honest, but thought it wouldn't hurt to pass on the details. You never know when this and other storied files may be useful for evidence, so pass it on.
Sir/Madam,
I am Officer ****** of the International Web Police. After screening your case we have found that this is a scam called the “Nigeria Letter “Scam or a “419 Scam”.
You can read more about it at http://www.scamwatch.com, http://www.secretservice.gov/alert419.shtml or http://bigscam.blogspot.com.
4-1-9 Schemes frequently use the following tactics:
An individual or company receives a letter or fax from an alleged "official" representing a foreign government or agency;
An offer is made to transfer millions of dollars in "over invoiced contract" funds into your personal bank account;
You are encouraged to travel overseas to complete the transaction;
You are requested to provide blank company letterhead forms, banking account information, telephone/fax numbers;
You receive numerous documents with official looking stamps, seals and logo testifying to the authenticity of the proposal;
Eventually you must provide up-front or advance fees for various taxes, attorney fees, transaction fees or bribes;
Other forms of 4-1-9 schemes include: c.o.d. of goods or services, real estate ventures, purchases of crude oil at reduced prices, beneficiary of a will, recipient of an award and paper currency conversion.
The advice we can give you is the following:
1. Don’t communicate with these people at all.
2. Forward all e-mail to the Secret service at http://www.secretservice.gov/contact_fcd.shtml
3. Don’t sign any papers
4. Don’t give them any money.
5. Forward their Email to abuse@ Yahoo, Hotmail, Mailcity, or whatever their mail host is so that their account can be shut down
The operators behind this mail are usually sitting behind an anonymous computer in an Internet café. And are very difficult to track.”
Got one of those rather obvious scam emails the other day claiming I had won the lottery in a foreign country - in this case the Netherlands - and, predictably telling me I would have to come over to Holland and fill in official papers and pay for them to get access to my huge win... There's been a fair bit of this on the news of late and while I am too smart and far too bloody cynical to fall for something like this a lot of people do fall for them through a mixture of trust, lack of guile or plain greed. Anyway, I forwarded it to the Web Police and got this repsonse within 24 hours. I doubted they could do much to be honest, but thought it wouldn't hurt to pass on the details. You never know when this and other storied files may be useful for evidence, so pass it on.
Sir/Madam,
I am Officer ****** of the International Web Police. After screening your case we have found that this is a scam called the “Nigeria Letter “Scam or a “419 Scam”.
You can read more about it at http://www.scamwatch.com, http://www.secretservice.gov/alert419.shtml or http://bigscam.blogspot.com.
4-1-9 Schemes frequently use the following tactics:
An individual or company receives a letter or fax from an alleged "official" representing a foreign government or agency;
An offer is made to transfer millions of dollars in "over invoiced contract" funds into your personal bank account;
You are encouraged to travel overseas to complete the transaction;
You are requested to provide blank company letterhead forms, banking account information, telephone/fax numbers;
You receive numerous documents with official looking stamps, seals and logo testifying to the authenticity of the proposal;
Eventually you must provide up-front or advance fees for various taxes, attorney fees, transaction fees or bribes;
Other forms of 4-1-9 schemes include: c.o.d. of goods or services, real estate ventures, purchases of crude oil at reduced prices, beneficiary of a will, recipient of an award and paper currency conversion.
The advice we can give you is the following:
1. Don’t communicate with these people at all.
2. Forward all e-mail to the Secret service at http://www.secretservice.gov/contact_fcd.shtml
3. Don’t sign any papers
4. Don’t give them any money.
5. Forward their Email to abuse@ Yahoo, Hotmail, Mailcity, or whatever their mail host is so that their account can be shut down
The operators behind this mail are usually sitting behind an anonymous computer in an Internet café. And are very difficult to track.”
Hearsay
Details of a fascinating new procedure to cure deafness utilising direct implants into the brain in New Scientist.
Details of a fascinating new procedure to cure deafness utilising direct implants into the brain in New Scientist.
Thursday, January 8, 2004
Warren Ellis speaks
A very short interview with Warren Ellis on Bookslut here. He said he was tired of people asking him for interviews so said he would answer any four questions if they were put to him within 12 hours of his posting, so Bookslut took him up on it. As anyone who read his blog knows he isn't the happiest bunny in the world (you'd never guess that from the excellent Transmetropolitan!) but my gods he sounds more depressed than a man who's been listening to Black Sabbath for five days after being dumped by his fiance at the altar in front of his own family for a randy penguin.
Much as I love his work, I have to say 2003 a cultural wasteland? Either he's carrying his depression persona too far for apperances or if he really means it I have to disagree. What about Spirited Away? Bellville Rendezvous? Young Adam? We had new books from Richard Morgan, Ken MacLeod, Neil Gaiman as well as Ellis himself of course. Then again, maybe I don't want to cheer him up in case he can't write his good stuff when happy, like the artist in Spaced. And no, I don't hold a grudge for him saying he'd come and sign books for us during his Edinburgh Festival visit then pulling out for no good reason. But, Warren, jeez, like lighten up! have a beer and watch some Simpsons!
A very short interview with Warren Ellis on Bookslut here. He said he was tired of people asking him for interviews so said he would answer any four questions if they were put to him within 12 hours of his posting, so Bookslut took him up on it. As anyone who read his blog knows he isn't the happiest bunny in the world (you'd never guess that from the excellent Transmetropolitan!) but my gods he sounds more depressed than a man who's been listening to Black Sabbath for five days after being dumped by his fiance at the altar in front of his own family for a randy penguin.
Much as I love his work, I have to say 2003 a cultural wasteland? Either he's carrying his depression persona too far for apperances or if he really means it I have to disagree. What about Spirited Away? Bellville Rendezvous? Young Adam? We had new books from Richard Morgan, Ken MacLeod, Neil Gaiman as well as Ellis himself of course. Then again, maybe I don't want to cheer him up in case he can't write his good stuff when happy, like the artist in Spaced. And no, I don't hold a grudge for him saying he'd come and sign books for us during his Edinburgh Festival visit then pulling out for no good reason. But, Warren, jeez, like lighten up! have a beer and watch some Simpsons!
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