Budd Abbott and Lou Costello trod a very thin line. When they missed that line, one of two things happened: Either Abbott veered off from his anti-comedic straight man persona to plain abusiveness, or Costello went from wise-cracking idiot to helpless loon, and the whole confection collapsed in either case. However, when they found that line they had few peers.
In 'Meet Frankenstein' they tread that line well for the most part. Yes, Budd starts off being overly nasty but it evens out pretty quickly once the parade of Universal Monsters starts pouring through the film, with Lon Chaney jr reprising the Wolfman, Bela Lugosi as Dracula, and Boris Karloff as Frankenstein's monster. It seems ridiculous to think about it now, but Universal had the Sherlock Holmes pictures, its iconic monster movies, and Abbott and Costello all in the 1940s! Three sets of hits in one decade, and probably more I don't know! In all likelihood they tried to get Rathbone and Bruce to pair off again Budd and Lou too. What a movie that would have been: Nigel Bruce trading barminess with Lou Costello as Budd and Basil traded sarcasms over their heads!
'Meet Frankenstein' is pretty funny. I prefer 'Pardon My Sarong' from the few Abbott and Costello movies that I've seen, but this is pretty good fun. Yes, it degenerates into an overly long panic session at the end, but there's amusement to be had at the expense of Dracula trying to get out of his coffin while Lou reads his legend, or the Wolfman suffering more consecutive full moon nights than you could reasonably expect to see in any given month (oddly reminiscent of the 'Voyage to the Bottom of the Sea' werewolf episodes). It's strange to see this and realise how urbane Dracula was as a screen character at the time, more of a Blofeld than a rampaging beast monster, and one who commanded mad and beautiful scientists to do his bidding and solve his problems. There's never a beautiful mad scientist around when you need one in real life.
This film does fall partly into one trap, though not as badly as 'Who Done It', my least favourite so far, which is that of trying to make profoundly grim ideas funny. In 'Who Done It', it was almost impossible to be consistently amused as our titular duo pretended to be police detectives, investigated a murder and were frequently endangered by the murderer himself. In this case, as one of the original squeamish ninnies, it's a bit hard to be amused at the notion of Lou Costello's brain being transplanted to make a newer and more docile monster of Frankenstein for Dracula to control. Monsters are just too inherently sad to be funny, at least to the overly thoughtful. 'Pardon My Sarong' was far better in this respect, and it also had an underwater bus sequence as well as the lie detecting tree! On the flip side of the coin, the sequence with Lou and the Wolfman in his hotel room is pretty cute.
'Meet Frankenstein' doesn't have an underwater bus sequence, but it does have Budd and Lou, Bela Lugosi, Boris Karloff, Lon Chaney jr, a spooky castle, animated special effects, electric sparks, a row boat, some fire, and a wobbly bat flying around on strings. Yes, that's right, the wobbly Dracula bat is back!
O.
Wednesday, 30 September 2015
Monday, 28 September 2015
Words a.k.a. Idealism Runs Wild
Editing time is here again, as calculations whir on the other computer, and this time 'Wordspace' is getting the conversion to 'coherent whole' status. It's actually rather embarrassing to read through the original episodes, as they're full of contradictions. Full of them! The pronouns are in flux from 'he' or 'she' to 'it' on a sentence by sentence basis, there are sections which don't lead anywhere and have to be rewritten for consistency, and some spots of dead text to be excised. At the same time, there are some funny lines, and it will be great to see that first chapter in one piece.
Yes, 'Wordspace' is fascinating, and maybe the only story I've done so far to be legitimately proud of in concept. Yes, a world full of words as characters is still quite the leap, and one which in refinement gives more and more. Aren't hobbies wonderful for keeping the mind away from the sometimes terrible meanders of existence? Aren't words great in their pockets of the vocabulary, and in all their many translations in other languages? Isn't it fascinating that words have genders in different languages? Isn't it difficult that in Japanese and Greek so much gets built onto verb stems instead of forming sentences as we know them? Isn't it all wonderful, and sometimes maddening?
Some day we'll use words to bring peace to the world. It will take work, but it can happen. People will look at the differences imposed by the codification and ossification of long-dead ideologies and gently push them to one side to emphasize the similarities that unite us all instead. It will happen, facilitated by the Internet and the modern world of telecommunications, until the enclaves of censorship and media indoctrination collapse in upon themselves. Words will save the day. It's a nice dream, isn't it? Until then, I'll plug away at these stories, and debunk whatever nonsenses pop onto the windscreen of life.
Enough, enough, bring on the house elves!
O.
Yes, 'Wordspace' is fascinating, and maybe the only story I've done so far to be legitimately proud of in concept. Yes, a world full of words as characters is still quite the leap, and one which in refinement gives more and more. Aren't hobbies wonderful for keeping the mind away from the sometimes terrible meanders of existence? Aren't words great in their pockets of the vocabulary, and in all their many translations in other languages? Isn't it fascinating that words have genders in different languages? Isn't it difficult that in Japanese and Greek so much gets built onto verb stems instead of forming sentences as we know them? Isn't it all wonderful, and sometimes maddening?
Some day we'll use words to bring peace to the world. It will take work, but it can happen. People will look at the differences imposed by the codification and ossification of long-dead ideologies and gently push them to one side to emphasize the similarities that unite us all instead. It will happen, facilitated by the Internet and the modern world of telecommunications, until the enclaves of censorship and media indoctrination collapse in upon themselves. Words will save the day. It's a nice dream, isn't it? Until then, I'll plug away at these stories, and debunk whatever nonsenses pop onto the windscreen of life.
Enough, enough, bring on the house elves!
O.
Saturday, 26 September 2015
Story: The Ninja of Health, IV
( Part III , V )
The marble wobbled, and cracked, revealing an utter absence of content. The Man and the Woman stared confusedly at the empty marble fragments.
"I was convinced something hideous or misunderstood would erupt out of that thing, prompting an adventure of uncertainty and some danger." The Man observed finally.
His companion took his arm and led him away as the emergency services approached. "I know what you mean. It's a positive anti-climax, but at least the Pattern is..." The Woman swayed and sagged into her companion for a moment.
"What is it? What's wrong?" He asked of her, alarmed.
"I don't know. We have to get out of here."
They hurried as invisibly as they could away from the allotments, the Man looking carefully after his charge, who recovered quickly. Reaching a bench in the park, they settled down in a mild drizzle and pondered for a few moments.
The Woman looked up at the sky, and pushed out her senses. "There is something else."
"Yes, I know. That ball did contain something, didn't it?"
"Yes."
"We are going to have a drama again, aren't we?" The Man asked apprehensively
"Yes. Blast it."
To be continued...
The marble wobbled, and cracked, revealing an utter absence of content. The Man and the Woman stared confusedly at the empty marble fragments.
"I was convinced something hideous or misunderstood would erupt out of that thing, prompting an adventure of uncertainty and some danger." The Man observed finally.
His companion took his arm and led him away as the emergency services approached. "I know what you mean. It's a positive anti-climax, but at least the Pattern is..." The Woman swayed and sagged into her companion for a moment.
"What is it? What's wrong?" He asked of her, alarmed.
"I don't know. We have to get out of here."
They hurried as invisibly as they could away from the allotments, the Man looking carefully after his charge, who recovered quickly. Reaching a bench in the park, they settled down in a mild drizzle and pondered for a few moments.
The Woman looked up at the sky, and pushed out her senses. "There is something else."
"Yes, I know. That ball did contain something, didn't it?"
"Yes."
"We are going to have a drama again, aren't we?" The Man asked apprehensively
"Yes. Blast it."
To be continued...
Thursday, 24 September 2015
The Box
There is a box of books that I haven't yet read. It sits in another room, waiting to get emptier, and for the mysterious packages that come in the mail to replenish its stocks. Sometimes the books therein are good, and sometimes bad, but they are all unknown for now. Massive numbers of short stories sit there, taunting me for my failure to dig in and read them. Oh, curses on all of you short stories! The box will sit there and wait for a while longer, as procrastination and love of the books I already have read wins out.
Is there anything wrong with liking to re-read books? Some people I've known, naming no names, think it's a totally pointless activity and carried a look of disdain about the whole idea. Others delight in having old friends to pick up and devour over and over, word by word. It's a very divisive issue, and there are whole episodes of book podcasts devoted to the topic! Personally, I love re-reading novels, finding that it add a personal connection to the work and to be a very comforting experience. Yes, the joy of reading is to experience ideas and narratives that you haven't come across before, but it's also nice to have something reassuring to hold on to while cooling down for sleep. The box won't contain the same books forever, or so I hope, knowing that some books have been in the 'in progress' piles for a very long time indeed! I'm looking at you, 'Voyage of the Beagle'!
I'm assuming that all of you out there know about LibraryThing, but if you don't and you love to read then you might want to check it out. It's a fascinating website which can be used in any number of ways. I personally am gradually building and rating my book collection record on there so as to get some more book recommendations on where to go next. It has already been a major success in pushing 'Bridge of Birds' by Barry Hughart into my life, and has prompted some investigation into 'Groucho Marx, Master Detective' and 'Kai Lung Unrolls His Mat'. The depths of fiction and non-fiction are amazing, and there to be plumbed. It's just sad that the only way to read most unusual books is to buy them in, the libraries not being rich in anything but the most contemporary editions or populist classics. Oh, to be able to make libraries eclectic again, in that strange parallel dimension where services actually make sense!
Anyway, to avert the incipient rant on libraries, please consider Library Thing as a useful resource. It also has a social aspect, and has extended to include DVDs and CDs. People in the relevant areas can even get in on the free book programme and review releases early at no cost! That could be a good thing for the more omnivorous readers amongst you, who aren't quite so tame as myself. Now, perhaps it's time to get back to ignoring that box and re-reading some 'Star Trek'. Yes, it's time for 'Dreadnought!', 'Ishmael', and then 'Battlestations!'. Let's have the work going on in the subconscious for a while.
O.
Is there anything wrong with liking to re-read books? Some people I've known, naming no names, think it's a totally pointless activity and carried a look of disdain about the whole idea. Others delight in having old friends to pick up and devour over and over, word by word. It's a very divisive issue, and there are whole episodes of book podcasts devoted to the topic! Personally, I love re-reading novels, finding that it add a personal connection to the work and to be a very comforting experience. Yes, the joy of reading is to experience ideas and narratives that you haven't come across before, but it's also nice to have something reassuring to hold on to while cooling down for sleep. The box won't contain the same books forever, or so I hope, knowing that some books have been in the 'in progress' piles for a very long time indeed! I'm looking at you, 'Voyage of the Beagle'!
I'm assuming that all of you out there know about LibraryThing, but if you don't and you love to read then you might want to check it out. It's a fascinating website which can be used in any number of ways. I personally am gradually building and rating my book collection record on there so as to get some more book recommendations on where to go next. It has already been a major success in pushing 'Bridge of Birds' by Barry Hughart into my life, and has prompted some investigation into 'Groucho Marx, Master Detective' and 'Kai Lung Unrolls His Mat'. The depths of fiction and non-fiction are amazing, and there to be plumbed. It's just sad that the only way to read most unusual books is to buy them in, the libraries not being rich in anything but the most contemporary editions or populist classics. Oh, to be able to make libraries eclectic again, in that strange parallel dimension where services actually make sense!
Anyway, to avert the incipient rant on libraries, please consider Library Thing as a useful resource. It also has a social aspect, and has extended to include DVDs and CDs. People in the relevant areas can even get in on the free book programme and review releases early at no cost! That could be a good thing for the more omnivorous readers amongst you, who aren't quite so tame as myself. Now, perhaps it's time to get back to ignoring that box and re-reading some 'Star Trek'. Yes, it's time for 'Dreadnought!', 'Ishmael', and then 'Battlestations!'. Let's have the work going on in the subconscious for a while.
O.
Tuesday, 22 September 2015
Words
Busy days beget numerous words, about a last spurt of blackberry scavenging, the advent of pastry making for future pies, and some actual translation of Spanish into English. Actual translation! How awesomely strange it is a thing to do.
Translation is not very different to original composition, except that you are trying to write somebody else's ideas into your language instead of your own. Otherwise it is the same fascinating and intangible process of making something intangible absolute, of drawing definition from some unknown source and putting an 'idea', a set of concepts which only exist (in English) in your head, on a piece of paper. It's wonderful and terrifying to assimilate the source text and then recrystallize it into a whole new language, a whole new mental system. Or I could just be speaking drivel. Who knows?
Some time ago, so long ago that it's a shame I never actually followed it through, someone suggested to me that I take a blog post and translate it into Spanish. In fact, they - it was Flighty Fernandez of Seville - suggested the original theme as well. It was 'The Solitude Of The Swimmer', and would have been a major challenge. Perhaps that would be a good idea, now that so many plans have fallen through into the sands of failure and mathematical programming code is dribbling pitifully onto a grand pile of unsuccessful nothingness. Good grief, it's been a rough time tor projects coming to grisly standstills! Yes, perhaps some Spanish translation practice is a good idea... Also, I have to get rid of the ellipsis ('...') habit... Oh, blast!
Golly, jeepers, criminy and splat. Maybe analytical work is the way forward. This is a terrifying thought. Can anyone remind me how to do mathematics? Is it more complicated than short crust pastry? Is it less hazardous than braving brambles for their blackberry booty? Send all answers via magic balloon to the Quirky Muffin. Magic balloons available at all good Mystic Muffin outlets in Great Britain, and parts of France*.
O.
* No, of course not! Are you mad? Oh, really? Well, that's actually rather impressive. Thank you. Have a magic balloon.
Translation is not very different to original composition, except that you are trying to write somebody else's ideas into your language instead of your own. Otherwise it is the same fascinating and intangible process of making something intangible absolute, of drawing definition from some unknown source and putting an 'idea', a set of concepts which only exist (in English) in your head, on a piece of paper. It's wonderful and terrifying to assimilate the source text and then recrystallize it into a whole new language, a whole new mental system. Or I could just be speaking drivel. Who knows?
Some time ago, so long ago that it's a shame I never actually followed it through, someone suggested to me that I take a blog post and translate it into Spanish. In fact, they - it was Flighty Fernandez of Seville - suggested the original theme as well. It was 'The Solitude Of The Swimmer', and would have been a major challenge. Perhaps that would be a good idea, now that so many plans have fallen through into the sands of failure and mathematical programming code is dribbling pitifully onto a grand pile of unsuccessful nothingness. Good grief, it's been a rough time tor projects coming to grisly standstills! Yes, perhaps some Spanish translation practice is a good idea... Also, I have to get rid of the ellipsis ('...') habit... Oh, blast!
Golly, jeepers, criminy and splat. Maybe analytical work is the way forward. This is a terrifying thought. Can anyone remind me how to do mathematics? Is it more complicated than short crust pastry? Is it less hazardous than braving brambles for their blackberry booty? Send all answers via magic balloon to the Quirky Muffin. Magic balloons available at all good Mystic Muffin outlets in Great Britain, and parts of France*.
O.
* No, of course not! Are you mad? Oh, really? Well, that's actually rather impressive. Thank you. Have a magic balloon.
Sunday, 20 September 2015
Story: The Glove, VI
(Part V , VII)
"You can't just refuse the honour. It's a preposterous thing to do!" Octavius couldn't understand what was going on. "A Master Piper, lad, the best of the best, and you say 'No, but you'll go on the trip anyway'? Is it a game of some kind that you pick and choose?!"
"I made it through my studies to be a piper and a musician," Steffan replied (little realising that the two were actually mutually exclusive). "Not to be catapulted into some global crisis. A few days ago my main concerns were meeting the demands of my examiners, and making it through the day without a collapse. This is ludicrous. It's a ludicrous thing to happen. How could this happen? WHY could this happen?"
Octavius paused. He honestly hadn't expected the lad to be this smart. "You are a supremely talented piper, and worthy of the highest honour available."
"According to your mission, the highest honour has little to do with music. You don't even have an instrument in here. This was about something else." Steffan was definitely not going to give up, now without some severe admonishment or serious explanation.
"Remember that you're speaking to the Laird of the Pipers, and speak with more respect!" Steffan stiffened, and stood more straightly, eyeing the Master Piper with a tad more discipline. He was, after all, surrounded by the ancient Implements of the Craft. The Harp of Ages was standing against one wall, and a the Four Horns hung from the wall behind Octavius's smaller-than-expected desk.
"Sir."
Octavius glared briefly, and then muttered dark things.
Steffan played with his fingers a little, a musical fidget. "It seems as if you play these games quite frequently."
"We weren't expecting quite this reckless a response from the top of the class. We weren't expecting an outspoken tyro."
Steffan remained at attention. "It seems as if far more goes on here than people think."
Octavius, now clearly balanced once again, refrained from spilling any more of the mostly true beans. "This interview, Mister Steffan, is at a close. Please don't hesitate to leave."
Steffan left. Outside the door, he uttered only one word: "Ludicrous!" The secretary smiled, and he left.
There shall be more...
"You can't just refuse the honour. It's a preposterous thing to do!" Octavius couldn't understand what was going on. "A Master Piper, lad, the best of the best, and you say 'No, but you'll go on the trip anyway'? Is it a game of some kind that you pick and choose?!"
"I made it through my studies to be a piper and a musician," Steffan replied (little realising that the two were actually mutually exclusive). "Not to be catapulted into some global crisis. A few days ago my main concerns were meeting the demands of my examiners, and making it through the day without a collapse. This is ludicrous. It's a ludicrous thing to happen. How could this happen? WHY could this happen?"
Octavius paused. He honestly hadn't expected the lad to be this smart. "You are a supremely talented piper, and worthy of the highest honour available."
"According to your mission, the highest honour has little to do with music. You don't even have an instrument in here. This was about something else." Steffan was definitely not going to give up, now without some severe admonishment or serious explanation.
"Remember that you're speaking to the Laird of the Pipers, and speak with more respect!" Steffan stiffened, and stood more straightly, eyeing the Master Piper with a tad more discipline. He was, after all, surrounded by the ancient Implements of the Craft. The Harp of Ages was standing against one wall, and a the Four Horns hung from the wall behind Octavius's smaller-than-expected desk.
"Sir."
Octavius glared briefly, and then muttered dark things.
Steffan played with his fingers a little, a musical fidget. "It seems as if you play these games quite frequently."
"We weren't expecting quite this reckless a response from the top of the class. We weren't expecting an outspoken tyro."
Steffan remained at attention. "It seems as if far more goes on here than people think."
Octavius, now clearly balanced once again, refrained from spilling any more of the mostly true beans. "This interview, Mister Steffan, is at a close. Please don't hesitate to leave."
Steffan left. Outside the door, he uttered only one word: "Ludicrous!" The secretary smiled, and he left.
There shall be more...
Friday, 18 September 2015
Take That, Good Sense!
I had an idea for this post, while out walking amongst the grass and the trees earlier, but now the idea is gone, blown away by stressful interludes and adventures in the land of computational programming. Oh, what would life be like without programming, if not a heaven beyond all imagining? How lovely it might be! Ah, if only it could all be writing stories and nonsensical gibberish for the notional readers of this blog, the august and barely competent Quirky Muffin...
As a challenge to one's ingenuity and skill in dextrous wordplay, this Muffin is just as invaluable as it has ever been, even as topics dwindle rapidly in number and the fabled six hundredth post approaches, bearing with it much mythic significance and the customary sigils of a job barely done. Six hundred? That's nothing! The real milestone is one thousand! Could this possibly go to a thousand posts? Really? At some point, it could well degenerate into nothing but story entries and ramblings about the desperate world of unemployment as relieved only by the occasional private student.
Ooh, did I mention private students? I learnt something while preparing for giving a tuition this week, and it was the lattice multiplication technique. This is an absolutely brilliant calculator-less multiplication method, and one that beats out long multiplication for integers. It should also work for decimals, with some fiddling, but I've yet to try it. An explanation will go up on the tuition blog, which currently gets far less attention than it ought. As an advert, it's very much the equivalent of proclaiming that the author pops in every month or so, looks confused, and then leaves again with a feather duster and a boomerang he found behind the filing cabinet.
A thousand posts? Could that happen? It's a fascinating idea. Presumably it would become easier if a job appeared miraculously, an unintentional gift from a bizarre confluence of events. Oh, it will happen anyway, no matter the cost or difficulty, as this is the Quirky Muffin! Here we do things no sane person would attempt! Roll on one thousand, in at most two years time! Whoop! Whoop!
We now return you to your regularly scheduled lifestyles.
O.
As a challenge to one's ingenuity and skill in dextrous wordplay, this Muffin is just as invaluable as it has ever been, even as topics dwindle rapidly in number and the fabled six hundredth post approaches, bearing with it much mythic significance and the customary sigils of a job barely done. Six hundred? That's nothing! The real milestone is one thousand! Could this possibly go to a thousand posts? Really? At some point, it could well degenerate into nothing but story entries and ramblings about the desperate world of unemployment as relieved only by the occasional private student.
Ooh, did I mention private students? I learnt something while preparing for giving a tuition this week, and it was the lattice multiplication technique. This is an absolutely brilliant calculator-less multiplication method, and one that beats out long multiplication for integers. It should also work for decimals, with some fiddling, but I've yet to try it. An explanation will go up on the tuition blog, which currently gets far less attention than it ought. As an advert, it's very much the equivalent of proclaiming that the author pops in every month or so, looks confused, and then leaves again with a feather duster and a boomerang he found behind the filing cabinet.
A thousand posts? Could that happen? It's a fascinating idea. Presumably it would become easier if a job appeared miraculously, an unintentional gift from a bizarre confluence of events. Oh, it will happen anyway, no matter the cost or difficulty, as this is the Quirky Muffin! Here we do things no sane person would attempt! Roll on one thousand, in at most two years time! Whoop! Whoop!
We now return you to your regularly scheduled lifestyles.
O.
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