Short though it may be, this movie is one of the best Sherlock Holmes stories to ever be committed to film, and not just because it's one of the Basil Rathbone / Nigel Bruce series that ran superbly for fourteen films without flagging. It also boasts some of the strongest elements from the Conan Doyle canon and a valiantly evil performance from Gale Sondergaard as the eponymous Spider Woman. Now do not be deceived by this age of superhero movie making, for she was but a mastermind collecting on insurance policies by killing people via deadly spiders and not a mutant of some kind.
The strengths of the series, and specifically 'The Spider Woman' are in the superbly balanced tone (Nigel Bruce's Dr Watson may be a buffoon, but he's an extremely entertaining one), the accumulated cast that carried over from film to film, the bizarrely high production values afforded by a massive studio complex to a B-movie series, and some exceedingly bare and film noir story telling that adds to a whole that is far more than the sum of its parts. In this case, the fifth of the Universal series and seventh overall, the production is in full swing, the early days of overt wartime propaganda have been put to bed, and the production team is playing all the strengths of an updated Sherlock Holmes for every benefit they can receive.
'The Spider Woman' is the film where Sherlock dies at the beginning claiming brain problems, before coming back to reveal an undercover investigation into the mysterious 'Pyjama Suicides', facing off against his villainous female counterpart on at least three occasions, and surviving death attempts by all of a giant poisonous spider released by a pygmy, poisoned smoke from burning toxic candy paper and being strapped to the back of a Hitler target at a sideshow shooting range. When you put all of that in a movie less than sixty minutes long, in addition to a touching sequence where Lestrade lovingly takes one of Holmes's pipes as a memento to the supposedly dead detective, you are surely making something dense and delicious if it works.
If you're a fan of Sherlock Holmes and not averse to liberties being taken with the source material, than this series represents the best of adaptations to the screen. The spirit of the character is held perfectly in focus (thank you, Basil Rathbone) even while the surroundings move on fifty years from his literary heyday. In this film, the three encounters between Holmes and Adrea Spelling, the Spider Woman, are all scintillating, and the chain of events never slows to a complete stop. It's a miniature marvel, and so 'The Spider Woman' is recommended. Is it, however, the best of the series? Only time will tell.
O.
Friday, 13 February 2015
Wednesday, 11 February 2015
In The Bath
Some new crisis is stirring at Blandings Castle, and of course it's going to become more complicated than it should ever reasonably be... PG Wodehouse is a great bathtime companion on those long soaks enforced by whatever reasons plague you. In many ways, Wodehouse is the ideal author for any kind of relaxation, and even revives the most jaded of readers from that which ails them.
Oh, if only whole lives could be spent in the bath, soaking away from the rigours of worrying about PGCE interviews, thesis proofreading, and the nagging worries about how exactly one would try to mathematically model a growing orange. Oh, to have a grandly sized tub and a copy of 'Uncle Fred In Springtime' at hand, much like a decadent emperor from times long gone by. Perhaps not an emperor, for they were rarely nice men, but a minor functionary instead. Someone quite trivial in the scheme of things. How he would have possession of 'Uncle Fred In The Springtime' is an entirely different matter, best left for another day. Lawks, at least that's not a writeable story, or is it?! The impact of PG Wodehouse on Imperial Rome could be catastrophic!
There's reason to relax in the suds: A trip is brewing, a visit to somewhere new. The shadowy mass of the city of Exeter awaits with challenges galore, and for some reason it isn't quite scary yet. To be forewarned is to be forearmed, even if also half-witted and ever so slightly sleep-deprived. The next few days will have to be focussed on background reading of as yet unknown nature, but which will probably relate to the general pedagogy of teaching young children. The great advantage of working in a primary school is that you get to teach everything, everything! It's a great thing when you can focus on words and numbers, adding in touches of history and geography and science in general. As people bandy about the term 'mathematics specialist', it seems to become more and more of a trap, a new set of limits where limits were about to be discarded. It's strange, certainly strange.
No, let's not worry about it now, but instead sleep and prepare. Let 'Sherlock Holmes Faces Death' play, and 'Uncle Fred' wait to follow. The things we do to relax are pleasant indeed, and they don't all take place in the tub! Pour on more suds!
O.
Oh, if only whole lives could be spent in the bath, soaking away from the rigours of worrying about PGCE interviews, thesis proofreading, and the nagging worries about how exactly one would try to mathematically model a growing orange. Oh, to have a grandly sized tub and a copy of 'Uncle Fred In Springtime' at hand, much like a decadent emperor from times long gone by. Perhaps not an emperor, for they were rarely nice men, but a minor functionary instead. Someone quite trivial in the scheme of things. How he would have possession of 'Uncle Fred In The Springtime' is an entirely different matter, best left for another day. Lawks, at least that's not a writeable story, or is it?! The impact of PG Wodehouse on Imperial Rome could be catastrophic!
There's reason to relax in the suds: A trip is brewing, a visit to somewhere new. The shadowy mass of the city of Exeter awaits with challenges galore, and for some reason it isn't quite scary yet. To be forewarned is to be forearmed, even if also half-witted and ever so slightly sleep-deprived. The next few days will have to be focussed on background reading of as yet unknown nature, but which will probably relate to the general pedagogy of teaching young children. The great advantage of working in a primary school is that you get to teach everything, everything! It's a great thing when you can focus on words and numbers, adding in touches of history and geography and science in general. As people bandy about the term 'mathematics specialist', it seems to become more and more of a trap, a new set of limits where limits were about to be discarded. It's strange, certainly strange.
No, let's not worry about it now, but instead sleep and prepare. Let 'Sherlock Holmes Faces Death' play, and 'Uncle Fred' wait to follow. The things we do to relax are pleasant indeed, and they don't all take place in the tub! Pour on more suds!
O.
Monday, 9 February 2015
Case Study
Imagine for a moment, that everything is fascinating. For some of you it won't be so hard. All around you is a world of wonders, everything having an origin and a secret we may never totally understand. As an example, consider the humble orange. It's a delicious fruit, sweet and refreshing, but how exactly did it ever come to be? A toughened waterproof epidermis covering a segmented core full of pulp and juice? How could it ever have grown? Isn't it amazing and beautiful that it has?
In the absence of any background research whatsoever, and only a few moments of reflection, how can a fruit with such a homogenous structure with those segments ever come to pass? Especially with pips totally unconnected and simply floating in the pulp? The pips at least seem to be easy. Hypothetically they could grow early in the process and detach to float in the segments as the fruit grows. There might even be the beginnings of pips and segment separation films in each pip, ready to form the foundation of a new fruit? Isn't biology fascinating in many ways? If the GCSE had been more about how these things work, it might have turned out better...
How would you even begin to model the growth of an orange? What makes it grow? The cells multiply, yes, and the hydrostatic pressure causes some growth by stretching, but is that all? How does the proliferation of pulp affect it all? Here's the six million dollar naive question, though: Why does it stop? Is there a genetic switch, primed to go off at the appropriate time of year? Does the plant stop providing water and energy? Does the ever thickening peel of the orange finally stop its expansion from sheer resistance? Is it all of the above? Obviously there will have to be some purchases of textbooks in the future.
With every question you can ask about the things around us, any answer will only provide more questions, especially in the natural world. How does this plant work? Oh, that seems simple! Why did it develop that way? Hmmm. Logical, logical. Do we know how this family of plants began? No? Why, why, why, and how? Questions are always more interesting than answers! Here ends the case study, as all case studies must end, in questions.
O.
In the absence of any background research whatsoever, and only a few moments of reflection, how can a fruit with such a homogenous structure with those segments ever come to pass? Especially with pips totally unconnected and simply floating in the pulp? The pips at least seem to be easy. Hypothetically they could grow early in the process and detach to float in the segments as the fruit grows. There might even be the beginnings of pips and segment separation films in each pip, ready to form the foundation of a new fruit? Isn't biology fascinating in many ways? If the GCSE had been more about how these things work, it might have turned out better...
How would you even begin to model the growth of an orange? What makes it grow? The cells multiply, yes, and the hydrostatic pressure causes some growth by stretching, but is that all? How does the proliferation of pulp affect it all? Here's the six million dollar naive question, though: Why does it stop? Is there a genetic switch, primed to go off at the appropriate time of year? Does the plant stop providing water and energy? Does the ever thickening peel of the orange finally stop its expansion from sheer resistance? Is it all of the above? Obviously there will have to be some purchases of textbooks in the future.
With every question you can ask about the things around us, any answer will only provide more questions, especially in the natural world. How does this plant work? Oh, that seems simple! Why did it develop that way? Hmmm. Logical, logical. Do we know how this family of plants began? No? Why, why, why, and how? Questions are always more interesting than answers! Here ends the case study, as all case studies must end, in questions.
O.
Saturday, 7 February 2015
Tests And Nostalgia
It's a Saturday night, and the sun has long since set. The movie 'Silver Streak' is running in another window to the right, and all is very sedate. It's nice to be sedate on occasion, after all, even if it is enforced by extreme quietude. Oh, such enforced silence! It was wonderful.
It's going to be a very busy few weeks ahead, as PGCE interviews, a wedding and even literacy and numeracy tests creep into the near future. It's actually funny that a PhD with a thesis and a submitted article to his name, as well as more than four hundred and fifty incoherent blog posts, has to take literacy tests, but taken they shall be. It has been so long since my last test that I'm not even sure if I remember how to do them. Maybe the stress will sweep down and everything will go blurry? Maybe an asteroid will hit the test centre? Maybe I'm really illiterate and this has all been a sham? You readers probably guessed that already, all two of you. Well, one of you, maybe.
You won't find many people who will wax nostalgic about exams, but here in this author there is at least one. Exams were always wonderful, with one horrible exception, and it is weirdly nice to be able to sit a couple more. Of course, that's an attitude you would expect from someone who has never failed an exam in his life, and is now seemingly boasting about it on a blog. How's that for an ego? How ironic it all is, considering an interview record so appalling that no-one would ever believe it! Ah well, this is all just autobiographical nonsense. These interviews will be different, surely.
As Richard Pryor makes his debut in the movie, and all inspiration flies into the dark silent night after a day of letter writing and general mental exertion, it's time to stop and eject from the world of correspondence once again. This 'Silver Streak' is actually a pretty good film, better than I remembered. Go, Gene Wilder, go.
O.
It's going to be a very busy few weeks ahead, as PGCE interviews, a wedding and even literacy and numeracy tests creep into the near future. It's actually funny that a PhD with a thesis and a submitted article to his name, as well as more than four hundred and fifty incoherent blog posts, has to take literacy tests, but taken they shall be. It has been so long since my last test that I'm not even sure if I remember how to do them. Maybe the stress will sweep down and everything will go blurry? Maybe an asteroid will hit the test centre? Maybe I'm really illiterate and this has all been a sham? You readers probably guessed that already, all two of you. Well, one of you, maybe.
You won't find many people who will wax nostalgic about exams, but here in this author there is at least one. Exams were always wonderful, with one horrible exception, and it is weirdly nice to be able to sit a couple more. Of course, that's an attitude you would expect from someone who has never failed an exam in his life, and is now seemingly boasting about it on a blog. How's that for an ego? How ironic it all is, considering an interview record so appalling that no-one would ever believe it! Ah well, this is all just autobiographical nonsense. These interviews will be different, surely.
As Richard Pryor makes his debut in the movie, and all inspiration flies into the dark silent night after a day of letter writing and general mental exertion, it's time to stop and eject from the world of correspondence once again. This 'Silver Streak' is actually a pretty good film, better than I remembered. Go, Gene Wilder, go.
O.
Thursday, 5 February 2015
Movie: 'Big Hero 6' (2014)
Yes, yes, there may be spoilers. There may also not be. Go in warned. Yadda yadda yadda.
Unbelievable though it may be, we're only just getting 'Big Hero 6' here in the United Kingdom, and yes it's a fascinating movie. It was definitely better than the infinitely over-hyped 'Lego Movie', and even manages to overcome the horrid fast cuts that currently plague movies. Ah, one day they'll go away, or I'll go mad. For goodness sake, let the jokes land! And all the other emotional beats too! To be fair, 'Big Hero 6' does land the beats, but they could breathe better.
'Big Hero 6' is loosely adapted from the Marvel comic book and turned into one of the classiest Disney animations in recent years. Yes, it's simple, but it does land all the emotional beats pretty well and succeeds in being one of the most beautiful films in recent memory. Not just beautiful in stylisation but also in sheer visual splendour. Not since the glory days of 'The incredibles' has a movie been so gloriously beautiful to watch. 'Big Hero 6' isn't as smartly funny as 'The Incredibles' though, as so few things are, and that is its principle failing. It's not a terrible failing but it does sink it further towards a children movie than a broad spectrum family one.
At some point in the last few years a law must have been passed, dictating massive fight sequences in every film that can possibly carry them. Deplorable though that is, it is somewhat subverted by this film, perhaps under the happy Disney protocols that we so often mock but do provide a happy island of 'something different' in the ever shrinking pile of watchable movies that make it to our theatres. In this case, the great example is that the movie is climaxed by a rescue and not the prerequisite boring super-brawl you might find in a live-action superhero film. In fact, it's fascinating how quickly it snaps into a 'Fantastic Four' mode in places, the other false superhero franchise that has been under-served by the world of cinema. You see, the Fantastic Four aren't superheroes but really adventurers. There's a major difference. Don't tell anyone I leaked the secret.
The fascinating thing about this movie, reverting to the point of the blog laboriously, is not only the sheer bravery in building a film around a pacifistic robotic nurse and his 'patient', the young and brilliant Hiro. That's an entirely new dynamic, to my knowledge, and one that brings back the ancient 'protector' mode once so accepted in our hero role models. On the other hand, there is an awful lot of fighting so it is hard to depict this is a peace-loving film. Maybe that will ramp up in a sequel? There is a huge 'Fantastic Four' futuristic adventure shaped hole in the cinematic comic book based universe, and maybe this could fill it? There are also shades of 'Real Steel' haunting part of this film, especially in the robot-fighting prelude, and some wonderfully gleeful flight sequences reminiscent of how we would Superman to be depicted. Yes, Superman is also haunting this film, as is Iron Man.
Overall, 'Big Hero 5' is a good and well-made family animated feature film, and one with a heart of gold. There's quite a lot of action, and terrible fast cuts, but also some invention in the narrative dynamics used amidst some fairly common tropes. It is beautiful and heartfelt, but not as funny as it thinks it is. If that sounds like underselling, it's because the movie is a real grower during its runtime. You will love it by the end, and it will be because of an inflateable robot nurse in the wonderfully stylised San Fransokyo. Welcome to 'Big Hero 6', and lets hope there's more to come. I don't often hope that, by the way.
O.
Subsequent note: One more incredibly obvious influence is 'The Iron Giant', making a double Brad Bird legacy. There's not a better person to inspire anything.
Unbelievable though it may be, we're only just getting 'Big Hero 6' here in the United Kingdom, and yes it's a fascinating movie. It was definitely better than the infinitely over-hyped 'Lego Movie', and even manages to overcome the horrid fast cuts that currently plague movies. Ah, one day they'll go away, or I'll go mad. For goodness sake, let the jokes land! And all the other emotional beats too! To be fair, 'Big Hero 6' does land the beats, but they could breathe better.
'Big Hero 6' is loosely adapted from the Marvel comic book and turned into one of the classiest Disney animations in recent years. Yes, it's simple, but it does land all the emotional beats pretty well and succeeds in being one of the most beautiful films in recent memory. Not just beautiful in stylisation but also in sheer visual splendour. Not since the glory days of 'The incredibles' has a movie been so gloriously beautiful to watch. 'Big Hero 6' isn't as smartly funny as 'The Incredibles' though, as so few things are, and that is its principle failing. It's not a terrible failing but it does sink it further towards a children movie than a broad spectrum family one.
At some point in the last few years a law must have been passed, dictating massive fight sequences in every film that can possibly carry them. Deplorable though that is, it is somewhat subverted by this film, perhaps under the happy Disney protocols that we so often mock but do provide a happy island of 'something different' in the ever shrinking pile of watchable movies that make it to our theatres. In this case, the great example is that the movie is climaxed by a rescue and not the prerequisite boring super-brawl you might find in a live-action superhero film. In fact, it's fascinating how quickly it snaps into a 'Fantastic Four' mode in places, the other false superhero franchise that has been under-served by the world of cinema. You see, the Fantastic Four aren't superheroes but really adventurers. There's a major difference. Don't tell anyone I leaked the secret.
The fascinating thing about this movie, reverting to the point of the blog laboriously, is not only the sheer bravery in building a film around a pacifistic robotic nurse and his 'patient', the young and brilliant Hiro. That's an entirely new dynamic, to my knowledge, and one that brings back the ancient 'protector' mode once so accepted in our hero role models. On the other hand, there is an awful lot of fighting so it is hard to depict this is a peace-loving film. Maybe that will ramp up in a sequel? There is a huge 'Fantastic Four' futuristic adventure shaped hole in the cinematic comic book based universe, and maybe this could fill it? There are also shades of 'Real Steel' haunting part of this film, especially in the robot-fighting prelude, and some wonderfully gleeful flight sequences reminiscent of how we would Superman to be depicted. Yes, Superman is also haunting this film, as is Iron Man.
Overall, 'Big Hero 5' is a good and well-made family animated feature film, and one with a heart of gold. There's quite a lot of action, and terrible fast cuts, but also some invention in the narrative dynamics used amidst some fairly common tropes. It is beautiful and heartfelt, but not as funny as it thinks it is. If that sounds like underselling, it's because the movie is a real grower during its runtime. You will love it by the end, and it will be because of an inflateable robot nurse in the wonderfully stylised San Fransokyo. Welcome to 'Big Hero 6', and lets hope there's more to come. I don't often hope that, by the way.
O.
Subsequent note: One more incredibly obvious influence is 'The Iron Giant', making a double Brad Bird legacy. There's not a better person to inspire anything.
Wednesday, 4 February 2015
Story: Oneiromancy, XV
(Part O , XIV , XVI)
For every organised effort such as Dreamline Alpha, there would have to be another such as Dreamline Omega; A team designed to examine the revival of that mysterious current of communication, should they ever move past the obstacle in time hindering all their efforts. Even as Alpha was wound down to a somnolent state, researchers were selecting from their students their successors, who might in turn choose their own. Positivity and optimism prevailed, even in the normally cynical world of academia.
In the interregnum, the somnolent period, Dr Kibbel and his other now redundant comrades, returned to far more normal work. While he chose to return to active practice, others moved on to different topics of research, and still others moved out into the world of real work, but they all kept a little black of phone numbers just in case.
At the other end of Kibbel's phone call, a Professor was speaking. "Alastair, is that you? Don't you know it's rather late here? For goodness sake, did you forget I live in Thessaloniki now?!"
"Professor, we've had an Omega. Two subjects apparently working in tandem. They have, to put it mildly, met the obstruction in person." Helen could feel the tension of excitement coming off Kibbel even as he tried to control it for their sakes.
"Don't be daft! Blasted British with mythical senses of humour!" The Professor was indignant, obviously. He was an extremely loud blusterer, and Helen winced on Alastair Kibbel's behalf as she heard the bellowing.
"Now you listen to me, Professor Goosing, the two are here with me now. They have seen each other in their dreams, and even communicated symbolically. Not only that, but they've seen the Tweedy Woman. I might be deactivated but I know when I've stumbled on something. Also, the man received a blackboard message from Omega." Kibbel was doing the calm and sedate manner of bullying very well.
"It couldn't be possible, surely? We were anticipating a much longer time before any contact might be made with the other side." Goosing, quiet enough now to not be overheard, was calculating the potentials even while making his half-hearted objections.
"It seems that the plurality has caused an exception. During the last incident, the woman was confronted by the obstruction, drawing attention away from the man, who got the message. We almost lost her."
The professor harrumphed loudly enough that even the normally unflappable Stanley jumped. "'Lose her'? We'll lose her over my dead body! I'm buying plane tickets right now. Get someone to air out my old flat." The professor hung up precipitately.
"Well, that went better than I expected." Kibbel said to the air, and then he turned to his office guests. "You're in for it now. There's no better expert on dreams, dream communication, and generally bizarre psychic phenomena than Professor Edouard Goosing."
"And...?" Prompted Helen.
"He's also the most crusty, obstreperous and loud academic tyrant you could ever hope to meet."
"Oh. He'll help us though, right?"
"Yes, oh yes, he'll help you or die trying." Kibbel looked in a cupboard. "We're going to need more paracetamols though." Returning to his two patients, who were sitting rather stiffly and uncomfortably on his couches, the tone became serious. "Ultimately, though, however well we prepare you, you're going to have to solve this problem together. You two go places where no-one else can reach, apart from that Obstructer. You'll be on your own, except perhaps for Omega."
To be continued...
For every organised effort such as Dreamline Alpha, there would have to be another such as Dreamline Omega; A team designed to examine the revival of that mysterious current of communication, should they ever move past the obstacle in time hindering all their efforts. Even as Alpha was wound down to a somnolent state, researchers were selecting from their students their successors, who might in turn choose their own. Positivity and optimism prevailed, even in the normally cynical world of academia.
In the interregnum, the somnolent period, Dr Kibbel and his other now redundant comrades, returned to far more normal work. While he chose to return to active practice, others moved on to different topics of research, and still others moved out into the world of real work, but they all kept a little black of phone numbers just in case.
At the other end of Kibbel's phone call, a Professor was speaking. "Alastair, is that you? Don't you know it's rather late here? For goodness sake, did you forget I live in Thessaloniki now?!"
"Professor, we've had an Omega. Two subjects apparently working in tandem. They have, to put it mildly, met the obstruction in person." Helen could feel the tension of excitement coming off Kibbel even as he tried to control it for their sakes.
"Don't be daft! Blasted British with mythical senses of humour!" The Professor was indignant, obviously. He was an extremely loud blusterer, and Helen winced on Alastair Kibbel's behalf as she heard the bellowing.
"Now you listen to me, Professor Goosing, the two are here with me now. They have seen each other in their dreams, and even communicated symbolically. Not only that, but they've seen the Tweedy Woman. I might be deactivated but I know when I've stumbled on something. Also, the man received a blackboard message from Omega." Kibbel was doing the calm and sedate manner of bullying very well.
"It couldn't be possible, surely? We were anticipating a much longer time before any contact might be made with the other side." Goosing, quiet enough now to not be overheard, was calculating the potentials even while making his half-hearted objections.
"It seems that the plurality has caused an exception. During the last incident, the woman was confronted by the obstruction, drawing attention away from the man, who got the message. We almost lost her."
The professor harrumphed loudly enough that even the normally unflappable Stanley jumped. "'Lose her'? We'll lose her over my dead body! I'm buying plane tickets right now. Get someone to air out my old flat." The professor hung up precipitately.
"Well, that went better than I expected." Kibbel said to the air, and then he turned to his office guests. "You're in for it now. There's no better expert on dreams, dream communication, and generally bizarre psychic phenomena than Professor Edouard Goosing."
"And...?" Prompted Helen.
"He's also the most crusty, obstreperous and loud academic tyrant you could ever hope to meet."
"Oh. He'll help us though, right?"
"Yes, oh yes, he'll help you or die trying." Kibbel looked in a cupboard. "We're going to need more paracetamols though." Returning to his two patients, who were sitting rather stiffly and uncomfortably on his couches, the tone became serious. "Ultimately, though, however well we prepare you, you're going to have to solve this problem together. You two go places where no-one else can reach, apart from that Obstructer. You'll be on your own, except perhaps for Omega."
To be continued...
Monday, 2 February 2015
Optimism, Idealism, Pancakes
It's nice to dabble, to potter around and pick up whatever information and learning takes your fancy, before moving on. You can acquire a myriad of useful skills or a panoply of useless novelties, if you only dabble. If PhDs were more like dabbling, then mine might have been a pleasure beyond all measure.
Literator: 'A Dabbler In Learning'
The life of a literator is one of constant surprises, including the surprise that it's a lifestyle that has been pretty much abandoned as impractical in the modern era. The pressure of staying alive, fed and housed leaves very little option for dabbling unless you're supremely free of responsibility. For all intents and purposes, the life of a literator is an unattainable one as it implies a lack of drive and therefore a lack of employability. Is that true though?
In the Western culture, we are generally told to be the same as each other, with the goals of a good job, your own family, an owned house, and overheads that would make even an elephant shudder in sympathy with the weight bearing down upon us. It is very much a 'work now, enjoy after you're dead' attitude and it is on many levels a lie. We don't all HAVE to be the same, and in fact we are duty bound to ourselves to be truer to ourselves than to the template peer pressure is pushing in upon us. Hence, the life of the word 'literator' in popular usage was brief, eventually referring to 'petty schoolmasters' and 'those who dabble in trifles' before vanishing completely. Now I only refer to it having done the usual stumbling about in the Phrontistery, looking for interesting terms, and then tumbling down the hill of comprehension to where we are now. We don't have to live the life society has tried to imprint upon us. We don't have to believe that potential lie, or the big lies provided by many other parts of the world as we know it.
This is going pretty well for a day without a topic. Sometimes such an endeavour works out, and sometimes it doesn't. In recent events, the Film Bin recording drought continued, interview day preparations continued, a cold wave struck and a steady diet of 'Star Trek', 'The Six Million Dollar Man', 'The Addams Family', 'Mork And Mindy' and 'The Adventures of Superman' is beginning to produce wonderful results. Yes, world, you tried to bring cynicism down upon us all but we have the tools to build back up to the stars. There is something magical about the idealism of vintage television. It's a wonderful thing, and one so few people now seem to appreciate. Yes, I might be writing through the rose-tinted keyboard of nostalgia, but the world is going to have to get a lot less cynical if we're going to enjoy living on it. Come on, people, we can do it, if only for the other 'Star Trek' fans: Optimism, idealism, pancakes! Oh, pancakes? Really? Who on Earth likes pancakes? Bleuch. Still, some people must, so again: Optimism, idealism, pancakes!
O.
Literator: 'A Dabbler In Learning'
The life of a literator is one of constant surprises, including the surprise that it's a lifestyle that has been pretty much abandoned as impractical in the modern era. The pressure of staying alive, fed and housed leaves very little option for dabbling unless you're supremely free of responsibility. For all intents and purposes, the life of a literator is an unattainable one as it implies a lack of drive and therefore a lack of employability. Is that true though?
In the Western culture, we are generally told to be the same as each other, with the goals of a good job, your own family, an owned house, and overheads that would make even an elephant shudder in sympathy with the weight bearing down upon us. It is very much a 'work now, enjoy after you're dead' attitude and it is on many levels a lie. We don't all HAVE to be the same, and in fact we are duty bound to ourselves to be truer to ourselves than to the template peer pressure is pushing in upon us. Hence, the life of the word 'literator' in popular usage was brief, eventually referring to 'petty schoolmasters' and 'those who dabble in trifles' before vanishing completely. Now I only refer to it having done the usual stumbling about in the Phrontistery, looking for interesting terms, and then tumbling down the hill of comprehension to where we are now. We don't have to live the life society has tried to imprint upon us. We don't have to believe that potential lie, or the big lies provided by many other parts of the world as we know it.
This is going pretty well for a day without a topic. Sometimes such an endeavour works out, and sometimes it doesn't. In recent events, the Film Bin recording drought continued, interview day preparations continued, a cold wave struck and a steady diet of 'Star Trek', 'The Six Million Dollar Man', 'The Addams Family', 'Mork And Mindy' and 'The Adventures of Superman' is beginning to produce wonderful results. Yes, world, you tried to bring cynicism down upon us all but we have the tools to build back up to the stars. There is something magical about the idealism of vintage television. It's a wonderful thing, and one so few people now seem to appreciate. Yes, I might be writing through the rose-tinted keyboard of nostalgia, but the world is going to have to get a lot less cynical if we're going to enjoy living on it. Come on, people, we can do it, if only for the other 'Star Trek' fans: Optimism, idealism, pancakes! Oh, pancakes? Really? Who on Earth likes pancakes? Bleuch. Still, some people must, so again: Optimism, idealism, pancakes!
O.
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