Strings

Young heir to the throne inherits upon the death of his father and sets out to avenge his murder and take control of his kingdom. Ho hum, sound pretty generic, doesn’t it? Even the twist that his father, the king, was not murdered but took his own life to make way for his son to build the peace he could not and that his scheming uncle makes it look like murder for his own ends may not sound overly original; perhaps a mix of Hamlet with any number of fantasies.

Wrong. This film is called Strings and it is quite the most remarkable and utterly gorgeous film. Shot over four years the entire film uses puppets for the characters, strings and all. In fact, central to Strings is the idea that this is not just a story told using the puppeteer’s art but an actual world where the inhabitants are puppets. Their architecture features no roofs because when each soul has strings which reach right up into the heavens why would they have roofs in the way? The prison has no bars, just a simple grid ceiling which stops their strings from wandering freely. When seen from a distance the city has ropes and strings by the thousand reaching into the clouds. Elderly characters have faces of gnarled wood instead of the smooth sculpture; nobles are well-finished while slaves are of the roughest wood.

When any string is cut it is like a blow to the body of one of us; when the head string is cut, death follows. In one of the most unusual birth scenes ever a new baby (which has been lying amidst the curls of wood shavings from his carving) is given ‘birth’ by his mother as the infant’s delicate, new strings curl down the mother’s then reach towards the still infant to be attached by the midwife in an almost inverse of human birth where the midwife must cut the connection between mother and child.

It’s an utterly beautiful story; ravishing to behold and one of those fantasy worlds you can feel yourself slipping into completely – the fact these are wooden marionettes matters not one bit, you buy them as characters, you empathise with them, feel for them and, thanks to the incredible artistry of the puppeteers, you ‘see’ expressions and emotions from them.

It is ostensibly a child’s fairy tale, but of the old school variety, the type of fairy tale which has both wonder and darkness at its core and teaches the child that both those forces are in the world. At times it reminded me of the ‘Prague Alchemist of Film’, the fabulous Jan Svankmajer, while one character reminded me very much of the works of the Brothers Quay. Imagine, perhaps, Neil Gaiman writing for one of those remarkable visualists and masters of animation and puppetry and you start to have some idea of what Strings offers.

On the way home with my chum Melanie we were both struck by the quality of light in the night sky. Even at 11pm there was a pale blue glow in the northern horizon; true we are pretty far north here – perhaps not quite as close as the Land of the Midnight Sun, but still north enough that as we approach midsummer there is yet light of the sun even in the dark of night. It was the pale, eggshell blue of the sky just before sunrise, except it glowed, outlining the hills. The sky to the south was darker, but even this held a luminous glow, like dark velvet robes catching the lamplight. It was like being on the edge of Faerie, where the sky always held a gleam of twilight, infusing the city’s night with a magical quality to it that was quite appropriate to the marvellous, enchanting film we had just watched.

Royal Mail delivers...

I received two bits of mail in plastic bags this week - each came with a little letter from the Royal Mail apologising for the mail being overdue, damaged, delete as applicable and advising me to contact them if there was a problem. One was a letter from two years ago.

The other was a cardboard envelope that had been ripped open and pinched from. Empty except for an invoice for a DVD I never received which was dated December 2003... So, it had been opened and stolen from (if the package was ripped on a sorting machine the DVD would still have been in there - it had been ripped open and DVD taken out) and it was 2 years overdue! Nice one, Royal Mail!

Obviously things can go missing in transit, these things happen, but it takes real class to deliver a ripped-open package which has been pilfered from two years later, along with a note saying there may be a problem... Now that's class! Especially coming so soon after Royal Mail announced they had met most of their targets for the first time in years; of course since they only made those targets by doing things like abandoing second post and delivering most home post much later in the day a cynic may say they moved the goal posts a little...

New from Marmalade, it's the latest download sensation, sweeping the nation!
It's the Lazy Log!!!



Simply log on to Marmalade and pay us money every single month for a picture of a log, which is so lazy it just sits there on the screen and doesn't move. Comes with wonderfully 'woody' music which will never, ever become irritating (because you can only hear it if you are a plant). Another winning new ringtone-screensaver for your mobile to make you popular with others!

Hood ban bites

A large shopping mall has decided to crack down on hooded tearaways and hooligans who harass customers and steal from the mall's outlets by banning 'hoodies'. "They hang around here all in their dark hooded tops - its like a gang uniform and very intimidating when they are in a pack, roaming the mall," explained Nigel Bloggsop, security director for the Conspicous ConsumptionMall.

We've all seen these groups, almost identically dressed, hanging around our streets and malls, gazing arrogantly at every passer by from under the anonymity their perpertually raised hoods, often clutching bottles of fortified wine. Yes, those pesky Benedictine monks will not be allowed to harass decent shoppers anymore!!

Porn for the Planet?

Came across this site (if you'll pardon the inherint double entendre): F**k For Forest; Environmental Porn!!!! Pornography for environmental protection and awareness!!! Apparently the more well-known environmental charities have been reluctant to take money raised by FFF, for some reason (perhaps they would be happier if they at least kept their sandals on while campaigning?), but I'm all for it myself, being both environmentally-minded and a perv. Eco-friendly porn in a forest - would give the phrase 'getting wood' a whole new meaning. I do wonder what comes next though? FairTrade erotica?

Just had this from my mate Curt and his worthy crew over at the Committee to Protect Bloggers and wanted to share it with you all. Because of this I've just done something I've never done before - emailed the president of Iran. Not what I thought I'd be doing this evening, as you can imagine. I reminded him that Islamic culture and learning was fostered through the centuries by the exchange of ideas and the stimulus of debate, so to deny freedom of person and expression is retrograde to the best of Islamic tradition. I don't know if they will listen to what we say, but I do know this: if you don't speak up they certainly won't hear you.

There's an old parable about the person who didn't speak out when They came for the intellegentsia. When They came for the politically active the person did not speak out. When They came for the unionists the person remained silent. When They came for those whose skin was different still the person did not raise their voice. When they came for that person, there was no-one left to speak out for them. Well, I've got a voice and so have you - I would never tell someone how to use that voice, its up to their own morality, but I think many of you will wish to raise your voices and join the protest.

Perhaps we can change the authorities mind, perhaps not, but if they are aware that millions of informed people around the world know what is going on and are watching it then at the very least we make it very difficult for them to make Mojtaba and others simply 'disappear' - at the very least we can use our freedom of speech to keep them in the eye of the world's public so they are not hidden away.

A word of warning - the online petition will accept Western input although much of it is in Arabic script and so runs right to left (very odd to western eyes!). Visit the CPB for full details and links and email addresses.



The CPB is asking bloggers and other concerned people to observe next Thursday, May 26 as a Media Fast for Mojtaba.

Mojtaba Saminejad, a blogger from Iran, has declared a hunger strike. He is being held at Tehran’s Gohar Dashat prison, which has a reputation for mistreatment of detainees. He is being held in the general population, the overwhelming majority of which are common criminals.

Mojtaba was arrested for reporting the earlier arrest of three of his fellow Iranian bloggers. (Iran has arrested over 20 bloggers over the last year.) Iranian bloggers who have been released have reported being the victims of torture.

Devote next Thursday to an expression of sympathy for an innocent who has been unjustly detained. Observe a fast on your blog for Mojtaba, linking to this page. Those among us who are healthy and so inclined might consider an actual day-long fast. When asked why, tell your family, friends, neighbors and coworkers about Mojtaba.

In the meantime, write to the following people, requesting Mojtaba be given a pardon and unconditional, immediate release and that, in the meantime, he be transferred to a less violent facility.

If you are in the United States, you can contact either the Representative at the Iranian Interest Section of the Pakistani Embassy or the Ambassador to Iran’s Permanent Mission to the United Nations. (Iran has no embassy in the United States.) Here is the contact information.

Dr. Mohammad Javad Zarif
Ambassador and Permanent Representative to the Permanent Mission of the Islamic Republic of Iran
622 Third Ave. New York, NY 10017Tel: (212) 687-2020 / Fax: (212) 867-7086
Email the ambassador

Iranian Representative
Embassy of Pakistan
Interests Section of the Islamic Republic of Iran
2209 Wisconsin Avenue, N.W.
Washington, D.C. 20007
Email the Interests Section
Phone: (202) 965-4990Fax: (202) 965-1073

Outside the U.S., you can contact either the Permanent Representative to the United Nations or the Iranian ambassador in your own country. Here is the page on the Interest Section website that lists some of Iran's embassies around the world.

Finally, contact directly the people responsible for Mojtaba’s detention.

Leader of the Islamic Republic His Excellency Ayatollah Sayed 'Ali Khameni
The Presidency
Palestine Avenue, Azerbaijan Intersection
Tehran, Islamic Republic of Iran

President, His Excellency Hojjatoleslam Sayed Mohammad Khatami
The Presidency
Palestine Avenue, Azerbaijan Intersection
Tehran, Islamic Republic of Iran
Email the president

Head of Judiciary, His Excellency Ayatollah Mahmoud Hashemi Shahrudi
Head of the Judiciary
Ministry of Justice
Park-e Shahr
Tehran, Islamic Republic of Tehran
Fax: +98 21 879 6671 or +98 21 640 4018/4019 (Please mark "care of Director of International Affairs)


You can also sign a petition here calling on the head of the judicial system, Ayatollah Sharoudi, to grant Mojtaba a pardon and unconditional release.

Oscar

Went with Melanie to catch A Good Woman, a movie adaptation of the Oscar Wilde play Lady Windermere's Fan (not to be confused with the porno version, the Fanny of Lake Windermere, all about a woman in the Lake District with an enormous vagina). Updated to the 30s and set on the Amalfi coast it was hugely enjoyable - good cast, lovely sets but mostly those Oscar Wilde lines.

When one older man remonstrates with his younger companion that for someone who has never even thought of marriage he seemed to have a lot of opinions on the subject, his friend replies 'in fact I have given marriage much thought - that is why I am unmarried.' There's a reason why Oscar is probably the author with more entries into the many quotations books printed each year than any other.

Oh, and Scarlet Johansen looked luscious in those elegant 30s gowns.

Fry the frog

Looking back on the recent election here I can't help but think that if any of the major parties had included a commitment to ban the sodding 'crazy frog' video ringtone and furthermore undertook to have all of the responsible people at Jamster arrested, stripped, painted in verses heretical to the Koran and mailed to Pakistan then I'd probably have voted for them.

That smegging frog and the bloody birds are up there with Big Brother and other 'reality' shows (which have no more reality than any other medium) as symptoms of the Decline and Fall of Western Civilisation. Of course, civilisation is always declining and falling - plenty or Roman commentators remarked upon this 2, 000 years ago. But goddamit, those things are hellish and frankly I think Jamster are an affront to society.

Frantically trying to flip channels before one of their adverts can run its course I keep thinking 'who the smeg buys these things?' What sad, pathetic person decides this is the wacky novelty which their empty life needs? Is it the kind of person who tells you they're 'a bit mad, a bit zany'? And of course, are nothing of the sort.

Well, I actually found out on the train from London last week when a couple of annoyingly loud 'yah' type students from Edinburgh Uni sat in the same carriage as me and not only played all of these damned ringtones but insisted on singing along with them... Is it wrong to fantasise about going over, taking their phone, wrenching their jaws open, ramming the phone between their teeth and forcing them to bite down on it? Would any court convict?

Ambergris

I was sent this link the other day by the extremely excellent Jeff Vandermeer, whose current book, City of Saints and Madmen, was one of my SF picks for the current FPI catalogue (my first-ever batch - although I've already worked on the next batch for the July issue now). It's a very cool animation for the book (Jeff says more multimedia work will be forthcoming in the future), which is most appropriate since the book is very cool, stylish and unique.

I was also tickled pink when Jeff liked a couple of lines I emailed him from a 'colleague' at the University of Woolamaloo were to his liking and he asked if he could add them to a US edition of City of Saints and Madmen (one of the most unusual and remarkable books you could pick from and I highly recommend it).

London

I spent a lot of hours on trains recently going down to London to meet my dear chums Jan and Linus who were over on holiday from Michigan. I haven't seen them in the flesh for ages so it was terrific to spend time with them, especially since Jan had been seriously ill and when someone you care about is ill and thousands of miles away its aggravating that you can't even give them a hug. So needless to say she got plenty of hugs that day. We had a terrific day in London (not my favourite city by a long shot), despite the extreme unfriendliness of most of the staff and clergy of Saint Paul's Cathedral.

When I was a kid Saint Paul's was free - now you stand in a long line of tourists from all over the world and finally stump up eight quid a person to get inside Christopher Wren's masterpiece (mind you when I was a kid you could walk right up to Ten Downing Street and have your photo taken with the friendly and obliging copper on duty at the door to the PM's residence - changed days, now you can't even enter the street. I preferred it the old way, it said something about us). I'd forgotten how awfully gaudy the interior is - the interior decor is so bling it looks like a rapper's bathroom; truly awful, no wonder Wren was so upset over them ruining the simple elegance of his architecture. And then there was the no pictures rule - yes, in this major tourist attraction in one of the major cities of the planet you're not allowed to take pictures! Seriously, I'm not kidding.

And how do I know this? Because some extremely rude and ignorant shagwit of a Vicar came trotting out in his girly cassock and spent his day marching quickly up to the hundreds of visitors and barking 'put that camera back in your bag' before marching off just as quickly, which is probably just as well since, once I'd realised this rude git had actually been talking to me, I was sorely tempted to punch the ignorant twat for his rudeness and lack of manners - I don't see why you can't take pictures there (especially when you have paid way over the odds to get in) and there is no excuse for such apalling unfriendliness and lack of manners (the way he did it was just do arrogant and rude - oh well, that's the C of E for you).

Can you imagine being told you can't take pictures in and around the Eiffel Tower? Edinburgh Castle? Do these stupid buggers actually want people from all round the globe to visit their church? Word to the London tourist authorities - you want to speak to these aresholes about their non-camera policy and also about their extreme rudeness and unfriendliness - it ain't helping London's image any. I almost hope some of the Olympics committee went there... Wouldn't do much for the London bid, would it. So, clergy of Saint Paul's, you are a bunch of unfriendly and stupid idiots and you really need to brush up your people skills and revise your policy for the thousands of people who visit your vastly over-priced church. Of course, I still took some pictures anyway... and the Whispering Gallery is still amazing.

Anyway, I that no withstanding I had a great day with my chums and much food and booze was consumed and hugs exchanged. I caught an incredibly early train from Edinburgh (6am - eek!); upside to this was that as I was going down the east coast line I could watch the sunrise. Passing within yards of the coastline at some points I had a great view out over a smooth sea, a deep cobalt blue. The sun seemed to rise directly from the waters, as if the sea was giving birth to a burning, copper disc. The sky was a clear, Saltire blue and it met the deeper, darker blue of the sea in a perfect line of horizon, with the sun rising from the waves.

A little while later I passed through the Borders. Further inland I saw a gorgeous old home which had begun life as a very Scottish-looking tower house but had been modified later in less warlike times to resemble what Charlie McKean refers to as a 'Scottish Chateau'. It sat on high ground, surrounded by deep green trees, newly re-leaved by the spring. The centuries old stonework was of red sandstone instead of the normal beige; it caught the rising sun and glowed with a wonderful coppery warmth, contrasting brilliantly with the verdant greens of the surrounding gardens and trees, utterly beautiful and one of those scenes you see for a few seconds only from the window of a speeding train.

I think I prefer trains to planes because you see more as you travel; the country opens up to you and you see countryside, coastline and different cities pass before your window; there's a sense of travel and moving that planes just don't convey to me. On the way back up my window faced westwards this time and I had my own picture window of the sun setting on a clear, spring evening. As an experiment I snapped off a couple of pictures as the train sped home to the north through the twilight, not sure f any of them would come out, but a couple are passable; of course they never capture what the eye beheld, the full richness of a sunset, of pinks and reds illuminating the few wispy clouds like an Impressionist painting, the countryside in the foreground covered in deep, long shadows as night fell and the sun fled westwards.

Vote blog

Voters of Britain, it is not too late! On Thursday you can reject Tony 'trust me' Blair and his warmongering ways; you can avoid the ghastly embrace of Howard the Frog; you can leave Charlie Kennedy out of 10 Downing Street and give him more time with his new baby. Yes, you can instead vote for the Blog Party!

The Blog Party stands for not bombing other countries; we'll try using discussion with other Bloggers round the world. The Blog Party will not prey upon people's fears by whipping up racist nonsense about 'immigrants; we realise our world is interconnected and people should be able to move as freely as words and data. The Blog Party will not lie to the electorate; since the Blog Party will fund a Blog for every citizen it would be far too easy to be caught out since everyone will be watching and discussing the actions of a Blog Party government.

In fact the Blog Part would insist on government documents, such as legal advice from the Attorney General, being published freely on a Cabinet Office Blog so everyone can read it and discuss it. The Blog Party will increase the provision for learning other languages so Blogger shall talk unto Blogger around the world and foster understanding instead of xenophobia.

Okay, a little silly, but a Blogger Party couldn't be any worse than the numpties we've got to choose from tomorrow. I'm disappointed there is no candidate for the Monster Raving Loony Party standing in my constituency - I guess I'll just need to vote Liberal or Green then! And then perhaps I should take up papier mache artwork; then at least I can re-use some of the enormous amount of election nonsense that's been stuffed through my letterbox to some decent effect.

Art available

A quick plug for an artist I was in contact with recently, Ian Simmons. He's carried out quite a few commissions and has made his own nifty online portfolio of some of his artwork, from comic book panels to portraits and book covers, so anyone looking for some artwork (private or commercial) or just wanting to have a peek at some of Ian's work should jam on over to Dragonart.

Happy Geek Boy

The eagerly anticipated Dalek episode of the new Who series came at last and left me a happy little geek. Plenty of nods to past hsitory but, like the new show in general, updated for a new age; they managed to evoke fear as the all-but-unstoppable machine creature goes on a killing rampage but also invoke compassion. And the revelation that their species perished in the 'last great Time War' along with all of the Time Lords except the Doctor just feeds this teasingly tasty back-story which is developin.

There was also a Neitzchen moral dilemma over fighting monsters and perhaps becoming one in the process, which tipped a nice little nod to the classic Tom Baker era Who story where his Doctor is sent back in time by the Time Lords to destroy the Daleks before they really begin; holding the detonator wires the Doctor faces an agonising decision - these are the most ruthless, evil creatures in history who kill millions on hundreds of worlds, but if he kills them now, effectively commits genocide, is he any better than they?

Also caught the new Hitchhiker's movie at the weekend - it wasn't great, but it wasn't rubbish either. I enjoyed some scenes and appreciated the newer material but found the whole film rather 'bitty'; it didn't flow very well and the editing appeared to be done with a pair of hedge shears (and doesn't the new Marvin look like a malformed Imperial Stormtrooper?). Still worth seeing and not a disaster but for this old-school Hitchhiker who does know where his towel is it didn't really work. Much better was the final Hitchhiker's radio series which began on BBC radio tonight.

I snapped these while I was back in Glasgow on Sunday - I had to go over and give the old Police Box an affectionate pat. A lot of you won't understand that, but those of a certain age will; these few remaining ones were always magical to me as a child. I knew they weren't really Tardises but there was that little bit of you that hoped if you kept looking you'd see a familiar long scarf trailing out of the doors one day. The fact they really existed and I could see what looked like a Tardis was just wonderful to a wee boy with too much imagination.

Down visiting my chums and meeting little Finlay, their new arrival, recently. I saw this in our store - a Starfleet teddy bear (it looks a little like Shatner but is a better actor) and couldn't resist getting it for him. I'd forgotten that curiously intense way that babies look at you - like really look at you, unblinking, as if they're trying to figure out who and what you are (or maybe just trying to focus since their eyesight is only about 10% of adult acuity, around the same as most adults staggering home from the pub on a Friday but not as cute with us). And the way their heads wobble around like a bobblehead figure or one those nodding dogs in cars. And then there's the way they reduce adults to gibbering nonsense when they smile at us.

Gunning

On the way home from work on holiday Monday I decided to stop of for a couple of beers and called a chum who was off. I was also feeling a little paranoid because as I left the Planet I heard a a helicopter overhead. A little later and further along I notice the chopper hovering nearby again and then once more as I approached the pub near my end of town where I was going to meet my friend. Now I'm starting to get paranoid that this damned thing is following me!

Then my mate calls me to say he is going to be late because there are huge numbers of police blocking off the main junction and all the streets approaching it and a helicopter overhead (ah). So, just as well I didn't go right home since I wouldn't actually have been able to! Naturally being rather curious as to what the smeg was going I had a look today and discovered that a gunman was in the nearby medical practise (where my doctor is), right round the corner from my home.

Nasty - gunmen aren't something you expect in the middle of Edinburgh, especially on your doorstep. Perhaps he was a Fundamentalist Jambo (that's a Hearts FC fan - Hearts=jam tarts=Jambo) outraged over recent controversial plans to move the club a whole five minutes away to Murrayfield Stadium and starting his own Jambo Intafada? And the moral of this tale is that giving in to that whim to go for a couple of pints can be a very good move.