Sunday, 24 September 2017

Story: 'The Cave' (Idea)

This was a very strange cave. The markings were extraordinary, but there was no other evidence of anyone having actually lived here. Why would that be? It didn't fit with local prehistoric peoples at all. Perhaps there was a clue in the line images. What exactly did they depict, anyway? If you looked at it in a certain way, you could almost interpret them all as pictures of someone making cave paintings, couldn't you? Wouldn't that be very recursive?

Actually, they did look a lot like crude images of someone making cave art. How odd. That was rather subtle an image for such primitive times. Looking around at the opposite wall, there was nothing to be seen at all, just a blank face. Maybe it was the cooking side of the cave. The cooking side of the cave that had no evidence of being inhabited? What was this? I stumbled outside and looked at the entrance and the surrounds once again. This was an isolated site, without any doubt.

Frank came up to me with some results from his analysis. The carbon dating on the pigments on the painting were what really interested us. He looked very confused. "What's up, Frank?"

"These results don't make any sense. They're modern pigments, state of the art in fact." He grimaced pre-emptively. It was obvious what I would have to ask next.

"So? Some New Age types came around and did some cave painting, then."

"The pigments are modern types, but..."

"Oh, out with it!"

"They date to three thousand years ago. They're three thousand year old modern twenty-first century paints."

"Oh, for the love of--!" I stopped myself, and went back for another peep. Frank joined me at the cave entrance. "How are we ever going to work this one out?"

"Don't look at me, Buckaroo."

"I wish we had biscuits."

"Don't we all..."

To be continued?

Friday, 22 September 2017

Take A Walk In The Rain

If you're feeling in need of solitude, there's really no better course of action than to take a walk in the rain. It's something that no-one else does. In fact, just by revealing this, I'm jeopardising my own sanctuary from the peoples of the world. However, if you think about it, then it's an unarguable proposition. No-one walks in the rain, with or without their weatherproofs. It's considered to be madness!

It's lovely to wander around in a wholly different medium, listening to the pitter patter of drops on your hood, or indeed the heavy thuds if you happen to be of braver stock. Usually, the time to consider running for shelter is when thunder or lightning begin, or if the impacts that you're hearing are more like crashes than thuds. Crashes, thunder, and lightning are all the things to avoid... Although it is sometimes very dangerously fun to be on the brink. (If you happen to be in a city, you can watch amusedly as people run for shelter at the mere picture of a raindrop, but that's another story, and possibly one about my own prejudice instead of reality.)

The fascinating thing about rainy days, to me, is how much variety there is to be found. Blue skies are very uniform in comparison, barring the time of the year or day. On a rainy day, every factor becomes far more significant. The wind affects the vectors of the rays of water across the landscape. The trees shelter you, except for when the load becomes too large and then they drown you. The temperature and humidity affect the mistiness. The time of year changes the smell and taste of the water in the air. Occasional bursts of sunlight can cause rainbows and brilliants contrasts. Ambience changes the nature of what's around you, and mood becomes embodied in the precipitation and then transformed. It's... magical. You can feel yourself walking through the medium, instead of just ambling through a void. Oh, and you can become different varieties of wet.

The other thing you can do on a country walk in the rain, and this is unique to the activity, is to quite happily talk to yourself. No, we're not discussing active and delusional conversations with imaginary people here, but speeches more in the nature of soliloquies; the verbal form of brainstorming or extemporising a blog post out of the events of a day. You can just let yourself ramble on in a stream of consciousness for a while, secure in the knowledge that no-one else will be along to overhear you. If necessary, you can talk to a horse in a nearby field, if you feel like you need the excuse of a real audience. Note: It's pretty obvious that if we could interview notable horses throughout history, then we could learn more about history than by poring through the accumulated literature of the world. Especially if we added camels too. Oh, all the secrets of the world under one hump, or maybe two.

That's a great place to stop, isn't it? Feeling bored? Need a place to go to be in solitude? Get out your waterproofs, and go for a walk in the rain.


Wednesday, 20 September 2017

On The Book Piles VIII

What's kicking around on the book piles right now? It's a good question. This feature will become far less frequent once the new year of studies commences in a few weeks, but for now we will have a brief post and try to get it through some very erratic Internet availability. 

'Journey To The West v2' by Wu Cheng'En

Finally, the end of volume two is approaching, and with it the halfway point of the epic. Is it really all about Monkey, or is there going to be a shift toward rehabilitating the other three main characters, who have so far been pretty useless bystanders amidst all the manic events? It's a classic episodic epic, but I have no idea how it's all going to resolve over the last two volumes. Many things can happen in well over a thousand tightly packed pages...

'The Voyage Of The Beagle' by Charles Darwin

Lots of progress with the Beagle, and it's becoming more and more enjoyable to read, presumably as a result of Darwin becoming more practiced in his prose? The action is still in South America, with revolutions and unrest in the air, but we'll be moving on soon enough. It's nice to read about flora, fauna, and the environment. And changes in the environment due to generational human interventions. It's all still going on now, if only we could be aware of it.

'The Conan Chronicles v2: The Hour Of The Dragon' by Robert E Howard

It's time for the last story, 'The Hour Of The Dragon', and in a few days it will all be over. There will be no more new Conan stories by Robert E Howard. No more unexpected twists or fusions of mythology into this 'lost age' of human history. Yes, the dark magic is extremely dark and horror-infused, but it's all very enjoyable nonetheless. Once it's all over, these Conan stories will go into the incredibly small subset of short stories that will actually be reread. That's a rare thing indeed.

'Enterprise: The First Adventure' by Vonda N McIntyre

I'm just a few pages into the re-read for this classic 'Star Trek' novel, and it's already a very lovely experience. There are many different versions of the earliest adventures of the famous Enterprise crew, but this one does the best job of fitting as many things together as possible while still being a decent story. In fact, it probably goes too far, as a lot of the continuity disconnect in the earliest episodes could just be written off as typical teething problems. Vonda N McIntyre was one of the classier early authors in the series. Well done so far!

'Galileo's Daughter' by Dava Sobel

No progress since last time, but it will get going once the Beagle's voyage is finished. Well, this and Herodotus. Weighty times ahead.

'The Goddess And The Thief' by Essie Fox

No progress so far. It's just sitting there. Will it be good? I have no idea.


Monday, 18 September 2017

State Of The Project

It's a long project. Making four little bookcases requires so many steps as to be ridiculous, but it's nice nonetheless. If it were easy, then it wouldn't be such a good idea to try. In fact, we could make some analogies between building projects, and building confidence in ourselves and others, but it would become pretty forced, pretty quickly.

Right, how exactly does it work? Pay attention, class, as there won't be questions later. In fact, there may not be a later, if the rumours of the potato alien invaders are to be credited. To make one of these little three space cases, the following must take place.

One, and most obviously, you need a plan, which you can then use to know how much wood you need. Then, you need the lumber and the tools. This is all the preparatory work. Oh, and some furniture board to go on the back.

Two, you do your research and work out how to make the joints you're going to use in putting all the pieces together, and assess if you need any bits of equipment. In this case, there have to be four finger joints at the corners of the case, and four dado joints where the shelves meet the frames. Three, you get your nerve together, watch videos of how other people do these joints and use the saws and chisels, and then get down to actual manual work. Yes, manual work! No power tools exist in this world!

Four, we have the sequence of crafting steps. First, you measure and roughly cut the six pieces you need for the piece of furniture, leaving the back until much later in the process. Second, you plane the ends of each piece down to the measured lines as exactly as possible. Third, you mark the portions that need to be cut away for the finger joints and for the dado groove, and make saw incisions where necessary to reduce the amount of chisel work. Fourth, you go crazy with a hammer and chisel, while not hurting yourself too much in the process. Fifth, you treat your pieces. Sixth, you get the backing board, cut it to the required size, and then assemble all the pieces together using screws and good luck. You might have to make adjustments and do more work on the pieces here. If you don't have a work space inside, you may have to wait for weeks between spells of activity here, as rain pours down and all you can do is think idly about how you got all these scrapes, abrasions, back aches and delusions that it's all worthwhile.

Five, you assess what you've done and then... do more work! At this point, you still have to paint and finish, before finally wandering off into the limbo land of not having a woodwork project any more. This is, at the moment, only a fabled Nirvana. It may or may not happen. Oh, and you have to clean all the brushes after the treatments and the paint.

Was that all clear? Essays in the morning, please.


Saturday, 16 September 2017

Television: 'The Goodies' (1970-1982)

This is too big to talk about in any kind of simple way. The Goodies - otherwise known as Tim Brooke-Taylor, Bill Oddie and Graeme Garden - were a phenomenon. For ten series, over twelve television seasons, they delighted, perplexed and amused in a thousand different ways. There were festival awards, hit singles, albums, books and appearances overseas, and yet paradoxially less than half of the series is available to watch now. The BBC didn't repeat them, and we can only reach a partial conclusion on just what they meant.

Having recently finished the last few available episodes, it's pretty safe to say that the Goodies deserved the attention they got. They changed television, along with 'The Muppet Show', and then television flipped back and they were forgetten. There are unprecedented things here. Can you think of any other long-running comedy shows written by AND starring the same people? Bill Oddie even helped out with the music for the whole run, adding a third level to the participation.

Episodes of the Goodies were typically made up a filmed 'silent movie' style segment, often described as physical comedy, with an original backing song, and a studio set situational comedy portion recorded on video. Sometimes it would be entirely one or the other, but the creativity was astounding. The show would often be mis-categorised as 'family entertainment', which defies the occasionally racy (relative speaking, for the BBC) content, and lead to much confusion. The underlying darkness of Garden and Oddie's writing could never really be completely called family friendly. However, the things that people remember the most are. This is the series which had the giant Dougal (from 'The Magic Roundabout') running riot at Chequers, the fantastic movie melange from 'The Movies' episode, the deep derangement of the ancient Lancastrian martial art of Ecky Thump, and Tim going crazy and doing an impression of a teapot when fully stressed.

While Garden and Oddie take the writing laurels, Tim Brooke-Taylor was definitely the star performer of the three. The man was fearless, and it seems such a shame that the rest of his career seems to have been spend in a series of conventional stage farces and guest appearances in utterly domestic sitcoms. I say this, with no real idea if it's completely true. There's a sequence in the episode 'Saturday Night Grease' when you wonder just why he's not better well known now, and of course then you remember it's because 'The Goodies' weren't repeated and were put in the dustbin of history. To be fair, that's true of a lot of shows from the 1970s, but here it somehow seems more vindictive.

Was 'The Goodies' good for its entire run? It's hard to say, on the limited evidence, but the defection to ITV for their final season definitely saw a confusion in what they were trying to do, and it can't really be considered on a par with the rest of what's available. You'll have to make up your own minds.

No, it really is too big a thing to talk about easily. Seventy-six episodes of completely diverse content can't be condensed down. There was slapstick, there was high verbal comedy, there was low-brow innuendo, and everything in between. Most of all, there was a boffin (Garden), a working-class hairy oik (Oddie), and the patriotic prig (Brooke-Taylor). They took turns in going barking mad to be the villain or idiot of the week, and it was all rather good. That was the show.


Thursday, 14 September 2017

A Bunkum Sandwich? Yummy!

One long day ends, as hopefully does a long long string of mistakes, accidents and ridiculous bad luck. Sometimes, a day starts out rocky and capsizes even before breakfast, and then all you can do is keep on going and hope it all works out for the best, before that waterfall gets too close to avoid... Ah, such wonderful days of September! It's no wonder that this is peak DVD season. Nothing hits the Autumn Blues with such ferocity as 'Get Smart', 'Gilligan's Island' or 'Police Squad'. Ooh, 'Police Squad', now there's an idea... It's the exact thing! Bring me Frank Drebin, now.

Thinking about recent times, the most striking thing from the last week is how much easier swimming and learning in the water is becoming. It's as if some crucial level of comfort and awareness has been reached, and now experimentation is a practical activity. Yes, you can learn to tread water. Yes, you can work out how to get off your back just by turning your head. Why now have a go at submerging by lifting your arms, legs and head? Why not? Swimming a length is now a very definite possibility. Who would have thought it would take so long, but happen in such a natural way?

Learning can be a very difficult thing, especially in a school/lesson context. Often, the drive to get to the winning post can be very damaging. Some people respond to pressure in very adverse ways, and really do prefer to play in the sandbox and learn subjects holistically and thoroughly. As a tutor, there's a real contradiction in how to proceed. Parents want results, but students need to learn, and sometimes the teacher wants to be able to see progress a little too quickly. It's more about supplying the fundamental interconnectedness of all things! Or is it? It's getting late, and this could all be very akin to twaddle.

Twaddle? Twaddle?! Twaddle is supplied in a similar way to pens, in that both grow on trees. The standard ballpoint pen was actually discovered on an arboreal specimen in Madagascar, and ink is harvested by squeezing immature pen-fruit. Sadly, this fact has been suppressed by a world bent on forcing people into accepting pens as manufactured items! Fiends, I say, fiends! Twaddle is actually made from the leaves of the Twaddla Bush, and is most addictive when consumed with bunkum. Ooh, a bunkum sandwich would be nice right now. With extra lettuce leaves.


Tuesday, 12 September 2017

Books: Books To Be Saved In An Emergency

Blast. I'm completely stumped with 'Wordspace'. It's going to need some serious pen, diagram, rambling and sketching to make some sense of it all. In the meantime, in the event of disaster, which books would make it onto the horse drawn wagon to sanctuary? It's a good question. There are so many which are almost good enough to be saved no matter what the circumstance, but only a few which make the golden standard. What an oddly eclectic gang of novels they would surely be. Hopefully they won't be too psychologically revealing, and lead to a lengthy stay in a rubber room. Not that there's anything wrong with a rubber room, but I doubt that they would let me finish season six of 'The Avengers'. Yes, that's a fifty year old cultural reference. Hoorah! Finally becoming contemporary!

What would be saved? The obvious thing to say first is 'Sherlock Holmes', even though I've not read a story in what seems like forever. It's good to have him up there on the shelf though, in those two nostalgic illustrated collections. Next, in a much more recent reading discovery, Robert E Howard's 'Conan' stories would be indispensable. Yes, they have made an instant impression. It's ridiculous that they're not mentioned with some of the other iconic genre tales.

What else? What else? John Dickson Carr's 'The Hollow Man' springs to mind, although it is then immediately dwarfed by Douglas Adams's 'Dirk Gently's Holistic Detective Agency' and 'So Long, And Thanks For All The Fish'. Those are excellent novels, and totally unexpected if you have read his other works. The second is such a lovely romance, but it is best to not digress too much. Romances are deeply underrated. 'To Say Nothing Of The Dog' (Connie Willis) would definitely make the pile, and for some reason 'Manalive' (GK Chesterton) has that feeling about it too, after only minimal exposure. It might be uplifting in the middle of an emergency or when stuck on a desert island?

Oh! Oh! Of course, 'The Seven-Per-Cent Solution'! What was I thinking?! And what about the collected prose of Woody Allen? That's essential! Things are popping into mind now. 'Three Men In A Boat' would have to pushed into the now beginning to bulge book bag. 'A Tale Of Two Cities' would be good too, adding some classical depth to proceedings, as would Wilkie Collins' 'No Name', despite the very divisive ending. Also, of course, 'The Three Musketeers' should be in there too. It's madness to not have 'The Three Musketeers' at all, in any of its varying translations.

It's time to finish, but also going into the book bag would be: 'Three Hearts And Three Lions' (Poul Anderson), 'Gateway' (Frederik Pohl), 'Journey To The Centre Of The Earth' (Jules Verne), 'Leave It To Psmith' (PG Wodehouse) and maybe 'The Master And Margarita' (Bulgakov). And non-fiction? 'One Hit Wonderland' and 'Yes Man', perhaps? And a few others...

It's a grandly mixed up set, isn't it? Why not throw in the Ron Goulart 'Groucho Marx' detective stories too, just to confuse it even further...