A new experience

What a funny experience, one that was completely new. Never having had a lectureship interview, and despite it being such a temporary position, the different format of the recruitment process was quite the surprise. You have to give a presentation as well as go through the interview, and may well have to spend the day with your fellow applicants, or even two days. On other occasions that might prove to be awkward but on this occasion we all colluded. There was collusion! A conspiracy! Madness! Actually the lack of competitiveness was refreshing in the extreme, its atypicality being the most interesting part of a process that was clearly going to be unsuccessful personally from very early. Such is sometimes the way of things.

Oh, new experiences, you are to be treasured. So much of life is doing things we've done before that sometimes it becomes an endless cycle of 'déjà vu' and aimless confusion. The new experience reminds us that sometimes we get peaches instead of bicycles, and that pools can be filled with bedsheets instead of water. "It's a funny old life," as the mad weaver once said to his illusive friend, before munching on his crunchy wafer.

So, on new experiences there will be one more interruption to the Quirky Muffin in the near future, as the beloved and adored (and deluded) author takes off for the second of two week-long holidays, paid off by the nefarious earning from the last job. Yes, another holiday, a final trip! It will be an odyssey, a rail epic encompassing three countries, and specifically the cities of Marseille and Barcelona. If you see someone in loud Bermuda shorts, a dopey bucket hat, and carrying an entirely incongruous coat or backpack that will be penniless me. Please don't point me out to thieves and cheese salesmen. wonderfully, Marseille and long distance continental trains are both new experiences! Huzzah! We'll see how they compare to long distance continental coaches. The only problem with the journey is in crossing London and Paris in the same day twice, but that's potential achievement and the website called 'The Man In Seat 61' has a good guide for doing it! Hopefully I'll be able to pull off conclusion to a serial story to see the Muffin through the break, but no promises are made.

One wonderful thing about long surface journeys is the potential for reading and writing and thinking. Truly, they mostly degenerate into long periods of restlessness and passive weariness but sometimes one can get so much done! There will be more story content coming out of this holiday than out of the several weeks beforehand. It will be wonderful, and there will be a penguin themed gift of some kind. Every holiday has to have a penguin gift. Penguin gifts are automatically new experiences, and some new experiences are good. Just like penguins.

O.

Examining the baggage

Everything we see, everything we do, and everything we experience leaves a mark on who we are. And every mark influences our reaction to those things happening or threatening to happen again. We call this massive set of conflicting impulses the 'baggage', and it's one of the hardest things to deal with. Baggage has an added connotation in that we carry it around and it slows us down. That's why we have to deal with it and put it all away. It's actually a rather crude metaphor but one which works powerfully.

Oh, baggage, why must you linger so? All this talk is pertinent as once again I must return to Nottingham, the scene of one of the longest and most gruelling doctorates that can be imagined and much accessorised trauma. It's like going back to a battlefield with only half an ego and shellshock, but it's not an unfamiliar sensation. For years every trip back to gorgeous Aberystwyth had that same sensation, due to the numerous odd incidents that occurred there. That's the nature of baggage, and only with a spell of working there did that stigma get broken, and it become lovely again.

Baggage really shouldn't be left to fester, but dealt with somehow. If baggage is equivalent to your past, then it's a past with which we need to make peace. Or wave flags at and laugh in sheer defiance! No, peace is better, but it takes time and is probably not the thing to be doing while trying to secure a job. In any case, why be so gloomy? The best way to deal with baggage, to make new grooves in the brain and get away from the old gloomy ones, is to make positive experiences in that activity or environment. So it went with Aberystwyth and so it could go with Nottingham, if the stars align correctly. Oh, you stars had better align with me getting back to Aberystwyth or Nottingham again or there shall be cosmic retribution...

COSMIC RETRIBUTION!

Okay, that's enough, now we can put all the maudlin stuff away and move on to happier things. For instance, I began the massive 'Star Trek' original series run through and that series is still amazing. It really is, despite the occasional chauvinism and exploitation (hello android Andrea, we're talking about you), a marvel of intelligent creativity which retains that quality even in the underpowered and sabotaged third season of doom. Expect much Star Trek talk, unless the stars align cruelly and I have to work again. Oh, what horror it would be to have to work again! 'Star Trek' had quite the personal stigma attached to it for ages too. It's broken now, huzzah.

And now, until Friday, the Quirky Muffin rests as I skip an entry due to interview. Any of the numerous imaginary readers should take an aspirin and sleep through the week until I return. If successful, there will be a small column of smoke symbols and then a small silent fireworks display to indicate the sheer joy of finally getting through an interview successfully. Oh, yes, it would be the first time! Lets see if this can be the first successful interview of the whole lifetime so far.

Banzai!
O.

Notes from a game of 'Balderdash'

In the wake of a game of 'Balderdash!' - which I love as the best of party games - there is always a selection of inexplicable false definitions, initialisations, and laws for numerous topics. On this occasion, here is a vainglorious selection of my most random from the last game with the prompts removed to avoid game spoilers:

- Word: A primitive water driven lathe;
- Initials: Short Freaky Actor;
- Law: ... illegal to throw mule traders into jail without the governor's approval;
- Person: The inaugural winner of the World Endurance Origami Championship;
- Person: Sailed paper airplanes off the Eiffel Tower on its opening day;
- Word: A Finnish tragedy, usually involving a reindeer in some small way.

Oh, if only this hadn't been quite a mild game. On occasion we all elevate up into the atmosphere of the barely sane and astonish even the clouds themselves. Fear us, world! The interesting thing about 'Balderdash!' is that it is one of the few party games where you are required to be imaginative rather than descriptive. It's highly unusual in that respect, and in fact I'm having problems thinking of any others like it.

Being an apparently random person, I succeed only inconsistently in 'Balderdash!', just as in writing the story segments on the Quirky Muffin. It's amazing that some people write professionally and consistently, amazing! I hold my hat in tribute to them while muttering under my breath. This week will be an especially hard week for writing, disrupted as it is by that wonderful and unexpected interview. Even now I should really be preparing the presentation but instead a Quirky Muffin is being slowly condensed from the aether of procrastination. Hmm. Sometimes blog posts do condense from nothing, fantasies drawn from nature and prose from the ground beneath us.

Imagination; It's a curious thing. I have been slowly working my disordered way through the twelve serials of the seventh Doctor as played by Sylvester McCoy and have been wowed by the amount of imagination and competence that went into that era of the show. The very idea of a television series lasting into it's twenty-fourth, twenty-fifth and twenty-sixth seasons is alone beyond belief, but to engineer a renaissance so late? Unfathomable! While 'Star Trek' is by far the more positive and enjoyable concept in its original forms, there are eras of 'Doctor Who' where the actors and writers fit so exactly that it comes close despite being far more pessimistic. The McCoy era is one of them, and it comes right at the very end! To compensate a massive original 'Star Trek' trawl is very close at hand!

And now, the presentation can no longer be denied, or at least the sleeping in preparation for writing it properly tomorrow. Finally, after weeks of interruptions, 'Explorers' is running and relaxation is at hand. This interview trip will go well, and in the process perhaps a trip to Nottingham will allow some baggage long left untidy will be stowed in the mental lockers. Oh, 'Explorers', you're a great film! I may be regressing at an unforgivable rapidity!

O.

Note: Apparently I picked out the idea of dream communication from 'Explorers' so I can claim much less originality on that story. However, I do similarly have no ending so the inspiration is on multiple levels!

Story: Wordspace, XV

(Part I , XIV , XVI)

The garden was amazing. The stems and roots had blossomed magnificently, with whole beds full of photo-s, helio-s, hyper-s and others blossoming amid a broad lawn of prefixes and hedged in by the suffix fences. The colours twinkled under the light refracted through the dome, the whole scene representing not so much the proverbial purple patch of prose but the multi-coloured variety of a set of haiku verses. Mystery stood mouth agape and staring at the beauty as the entrance mechanism closed behind it.

The Dome stretched away, ignored by Mystery but keenly observed by the dependable Club, who was not moved by beauty when duty intervened. Club had already observed the custodian of the garden when Mystery had barely begun to be amazed. The gardener stood quietly, marvelling at the sight of someone from outside the Zone, someone with whom it hadn't been locked up for ages.

"Boss," prompted Club, "you wanna say hello or shall I?" Mystery, perhaps reeling from the stress of the past few days, didn't answer and so Club sighed and approached the stranger. "Greetings---"

"Club, I am aware of you and your friend's natures." Interjected the gardener. "In Mystery's case I am more aware than most other words. It hasn't changed at least, still overwhelmed by things he doesn't understand or expect. Still awed by mysteries as much as loving them."

"You know him, Sir?"

"Yes. We were part of a triad. My name is Lies."

Note: For clarity's sake, Lies didn't lie all the time, for then we would be caught in paradoxes and confusions on a permanent basis. It was merely one of the few words capable of using non-truths.

Lies walked over to the shocked Mystery and touched its shoulder for a moment. "Are you ready to come back?" Mystery shook its head. "It has all been too much for now?" Mystery nodded and Lies returned its attention to Club. "It wasn't ready for all this. It has plainly been a shocking time?"

Club recognised the invitation for what it was and related their story, beginning with the funny visitor, continuing through to the interlude in the Point of Nowhere, and concluding with the advent of the invader and their quest to enlist the assistance of the Destructives. Lies steepled its digits and listened in the classical sense. Finally, it paused to think for a long time, an eternity or a few minutes.

"How do you like my garden?" Lies enquired of Club.

"It's impressive. I seem to recall talk of you having had one before your exile began." It wasn't a question. Club was hoping that Mystery would come back to them soon, and be able to deal with Lies. Club had never been told of this imprisoned word's nature, of the nature of its duplicity, or of why it had been sent here to begin with.

"Yes... When our friend rejoins us we will talk of the exile. There are things you do not know, and which very few of the outside words know of that imprisonment."

Club looked perplexed. This wasn't part of its normal role in things.

To be continued...

Interview Prep

Once again, the wheel has spun, and the highly improbable has occurred: I have an interview. Obviously a new troop of insane people have been found somewhere in the country and now I will have to pay the ultimate price: The jacket, shirt and tie. Oh, the discomfort! Actually jackets truly are the most uncomfortable things you can possibly wear, aberrations of the natural order of clothing and awkward in the extreme. Gosh, how I loathe them. Why can't it always be bermuda shorts and jumpers?

On a more serious note, preparing for interviews is one of the most stressful activities one can do while remaining in the land of the (barely) sane. There's just something inherently stressful about the idea of turning up somewhere and justifying oneself to strangers, a falseness in the whole concept of 'faking it til you make it' as opposed to portraying yourself totally genuinely. Yes, I know we are supposed to be ourselves on these occasions, but when is it really true? Nervousness always pushes an element of pretence at the very beginning, at least, but then it falls away. Yes, nervousness is the enemy, and always will be.

Nervousness is a creeping sensation, something disruptive and weakening. Even now, when long used to it, the stomach turns over with still more than a week to go. Preparation will only make it worse up to a point, where the main job is to set up to be a presentation about the exciting, interesting and motivating parts of my research! Yes, a work of fiction is required! Oh, that's only a joke, a lot of it can be interesting in introductory terms so it will be nice, and some kind of animation would be a barnstormer, if only I knew how in Python and had the data. That's a fun few days to fill, if you like that sort of thing.

Meanwhile, in less nerve-inducing news, the advent of 'Batman' on DVD has been augmented by the revelation that the complete 'Phil Silvers Show' will be out soon too. It's a treasure trove year for vintage comedy with two shows long unavailable outside of bootlegs finally seeing the light of day. It's remarkable that it's finally happening. Remarkable! Is it silly to be excited by vintage comedy? Perhaps, but some of what is about to be released is legendary, and deserves to be seen. Early drama may have been patterned, overly stern, and formulaic but early comedy? There is gold in them there hills! Phil Silvers is actually one of my earliest influences, back when the BBC would still pay for reruns of old shows. Any series which can produce an episode like 'Court Martial' deserves every release it can get. Now if only we could know why the last release of season one didn't sell...

I blame barbarians.
O.

Story: Wordspace, XIV

(Part I , XIII , XV)

The Zone of Accumulated Meaningless Jargon had been there since time immemorial. No-one knew its origins and no-one could guess at its ultimate end. It simply was. Along with the Isle of Truth and Lies, and the Frontier it represented the mysterious prehistory of the Wordspace.

The Zone had strange properties all its own. The Jargon that formed its structure was unbreakable but transparent if viewed at the correct angle, which meant that the accumulated layers glittered as you approached it. Light entered the interior of the Zone by reflecting in through all the gaps between the entrapping syllables of the Jargon, and the Destructives trapped inside were doubtlessly dazzled through the hours that Light chose to shine upon the Wordspace, and doubly cocooned in gloom when Dark chose to skulk across the world. Light and Dark were so abstract that no-one had even seen them in person for centuries. Mystery wondered if they even still existed.

Within the Zone lay all the Words whose natures were so unbendingly defined by chaos and negativity that they were called the Destructives. Long, long ago a grand alliance of all the other Words - an unprecedented alliance in a period when the population hadn't been so used to peaceful existence - had forced them one by one into the Zone, beginning with the great War itself. It was inconceivable that that could ever happen again, inconceivable that it could ever have happened. Conflict was a thing of the past, a thing visited upon them now from outside their whole plane of existence.

The natural system of the Wordspace would have created successors to War and Conflict, Strife and Horror, Evil and Malice, or any of the Words imprisoned inside if they had died in their exile. Since it had not, everyone assumed that they remained in there. Over time, the population had excised far more marginal cases such as Mystery's old mentor Lies and the unfortunate martyr Misfortune, so that the Zone itself was a receptacle for more guilt now that it ever had been before.

Earth stopped at the perimeter of the Zone, which loomed above them in a vast irregular dome. Somewhere behind them was the aggressor, hopefully lost for the moment, but quite possibly pursuing at full speed. They were waiting for Zephyr to return from a subtle reconnaissance and for Decision to report on his meeting with the Zone's chief custodian Constancy. Decision returned first. "The Zone is intact, according to Constancy, and the portal has seen no activity in many weeks. In fact, the general atmosphere has been so quiet that he has begun to worry that something may have occurred in there."

"Were there any signs of the the other refugee groups?" Enquired Mystery, who was currently being treated as the provisional leader of the group, being mutable and therefore adaptable to many situations.

"He reported that they had seen Ocean passing on the horizon some days ago, leading the invader away from the Zone as best they could. Something we have emphatically not done." Decision addressed Mystery resolutely and determinedly. "What are your intentions? We must know in order to discuss at Council."

"My intention is to enter the Zone, contact the Destructives and make them our allies if they can be trusted. My intention is that we save our world before it is destroyed completely. While I am gone, you may deliberate as much as you wish, but once I return there will be no more time." Mystery spoke with equal resolution but quietly. "Do you understand?"

Decision sighed. "I had hoped you might have had a different idea." It clasped Mystery at the shoulder syllable and then straightened. "We will return at daily intervals, and devise alternative as best we can. Surely with the combined powers of Earth and Ocean and some of the other Elementals there is hope outside that offered by our warlike past."

"We can only hope." Mystery bade him farewell, and headed for the Portal and Constancy. Club followed, despite all his commands, being the stalwart companion to his core. At the portal, Constancy stood ready to activate the one-way mechanism.

"The exit mechanism has not been activated in living memory. You should think about this carefully, Mystery." Constancy was sincere in his concern.

"The exit portal remains where it was?"

"Yes. I shall be there at the appointed times, or my apprentice."

Mystery nodded. "A codephrase would be in order. 'Redundant miscellany'?"

Constancy assented and then the moment was there. He activated the mechanism and the two emissaries stepped into the now opened portal. Then the mechanism pushed them into the Zone, and into a magnificent garden.

Mystery and Club stood dumbfounded.

To be continued...

Where's the fun in that?! (REVISED)

While drafting one of these rogue Quirky Muffins, it is quite common for me to come up with two or three titles and then start them all before finally settling on one, and keeping the others open for another day. It's an essential part of the fun of it, and there should be fun in the things we do for recreation. Fun! It's easy to lose track of that in the frenzy of everyday life, and then it only pops back into the mind in odd circumstances. You can be trawling through that pile of podcasts that have been lined up for weeks, and then just throw them away from the duty of it all. It's recreation, not duty! (Recreation is a duty for some people with instabilities, but let's not get into that too much.)

For me, it all snapped back when I was writing part thirteen (oh, they do go on forever!) of 'Wordspace' and just realised how sick I was of the endless setup. Hence the mighty invader got floored by a speeding embodiment of Earth, a fast track to the Zone of Meaningless Jargon, and lo and behold, the story became interesting again! One of the problems with keeping the Quirky Muffin going is the challenge in maintaining its benefits against the onslaught of influences which can render it a 'chore'. You have got to keep the fun.

From my point of view, fun is a rare thing. If you look for it, it never comes, so the best thing to do is relax and do something different and grasp if it comes along. Is that a very naive outlook on life? It's hard to say, although it is certainly a very solitary attitude to have as it requires magnificent levels of practical spontaneity!

<interruption>

Gosh, this is one of the tougher entries to write after all. A few rough days and a week of non-solid sleep can really affect the creative faculties but lets go anyway. Yesterday there actually was fun in a spell of playing crazy golf in Pembrey Country Park and tomorrow there will be fun in some creative mathematical puzzle solving but is it enough? That crazy golf course is actually quite good, by the way, distinct from a lot of the other more antiquated generic ones you find dotted across the country. It also makes a satisfactory 'clang', which shall not be explained further. Oh, fun, sometimes you come with satisfactory clangs...

And with that, this abortive Quirky Muffin will begin to come to a close. The fun wasn't there in the first writing, but this revision has made it worthwhile. I was buried beneath podcast editing and note taking, and watching through DVDs for indexing purposes instead of enjoyment. I think that between cataloguing the ridiculous number of television episodes and evaluating movies for Film Bin about 90% of the entertainment has been deducted from the process of enjoying media. Someday in the far future, two or three years at least at this rate, the last episode of whatever will have its details taken and then I'll have to remember how to watch things because I might want to. It shall be strange... Oh, the grand survey has revealed one thing fairly definitively so far, and that is that television and movies and indeed books have increasingly lost that vital sense of fun over recent decades. It seeped through abundantly in the 1960s and 1980s, that joie de vivre of being involved in things bigger than themselves, and then only in exceptional cases otherwise. How's that for a massive, sweeping generalisation? Strangely my only current show that exhibits that mystic sense of fun (and barely as its last season is coming) is 'The Mentalist' and that has more murders than could be considered in any way optimistic.

Oh, 'Star Trek', bring it on! Fun, Kirk, fun!

O.

Note: The other possible Muffins for today were 'Abandonware', 'Correspondences', and 'Why it's good to have capacious pantaloons'. Consider yourself lucky.