I won't be able to write about 'Dr Mabuse - The Gambler' until after finishing the second part of that four and a half hour epic silent movie by Fritz Lang tomorrow. Likewise, the next 'On The Book Piles' can't be posted due to the alternating post rule, so this is going to be about cheese. Oh, that's just a joke. I don't know enough about cheese to fill a minimum of four paragraphs of semi-coherent mess on the day following the time adjustment. Yes, daylight savings time lag has struck, so settle in for some gibberish while the internal clock recalibrates. Hopefully, it won't take long until it doesn't feel like it might be lunchtime in Utah. (Why Utah? I have no idea. I blame Trump*.)
On a passing note, daylight saving time is still a menace to society, but I choose not to rant about it again at this time. That can wait until erudition is not endangered by chronological dissonance. Oh, it was a wonderful day when I learnt what 'dissonance' actually means, as it's useful so much of the time! In this context, and the more general psychological case, dissonance refers to a harmful and destabilising conflict between an inner feeling or belief and the environment or actions being committed. When you do something you think is wrong, you are most likely bringing dissonance upon yourself, which could be mightily debilitative.
I'm on a long word binge, if you haven't noticed, which could just as well be expressed as an inclination toward polysyllabic constructs. It's rather fun to try and say things in the most elaborate way possible, although there are no plans to convert the Quirky Muffin to a 'high style' version for the long term. 'High style' would probably lead to a small nervous breakdown, with endless pages of elaborate flowery prose that would surely exhaust this writer in almost no time at all!
Easter continues, and with it the enforced idleness of a long long weekend. It's fortunate that there are letters to write, students who need tailored teaching strategies and fascinating books to read. Also, and with no flourish as of yet, a route has been found to extend and make practical the serial story entitled 'The Glove'. It shall not be abandoned!
O.
* For readers in the far future, 'Trump' refers to Donald Trump, the current frontrunner for the Republican nomination now in 2016. It would be funny, if it weren't horribly scary. Oh, please, USA, take Bernie!
Sunday, 27 March 2016
Friday, 25 March 2016
Book: 'The Assassination Bureau, Ltd.' by Jack London (completed by Robert L Fish) (1963)
It's a fascinating novel, and one that reshapes my idea of Jack London, of whom I have had very little experience. The name 'Jack London' is synonymous with 'White Fang' and 'Call Of The Wild', neither of which I have read, but maybe he had a lot more strings to his metaphorical bow? 'The Assassination Bureau' (TAB) suggests that could be true. Oh, enough with this meta-commentary. What about the book itself?
It's a wonderful novel, with tinges of the great GK Chesterton woven through it, or perhaps Chesterton's works had tinges of London. The transition from London's prose to that of Fish is seamless, and is only detectable due to a slight change in the energy of the last sections. TAB is a novel that runs on parallel tracks as a book of ideas and a thriller/adventure. It's also spell-bindingly good.
What if there were a bureau of executioners who only accepted contracts if they believed the victim deserved killing, and who were founded on a strictly ethical basis? What if you discovered their existence and lured them into contacting you as a possible client, before selecting their chief as your candidate for assassination? Then, what if their chief turned out to be the uncle of your betrothed? The story is told mostly from the point of view of Winter Hall, and that is the situation in which he finds himself.
It's a witty and philosophical story, which would fall under a misnomer if we called it a comedy. Unsurprisingly, the movie version was a farce, but the book is a bit more complex. Sometimes you might be tempted to use the much abused term 'boys' adventure', while adventure and thriller could be applied at others. At its core, it's a thriller through which its characters are bound by their own codes of conduct, and as such it's also a mild exploration of ethics, morality, and questions of humanity.
Overall, 'The Assassination Bureau, Ltd.' was a great read. Apparently, London never finished the story because he couldn't quite come up with an ending, and bought the original idea from writer Sinclair Lewis. It was eventually completed from notes made by London by Robert L Fish, to some success. It's a fascinating read, and one to be recommended. Also, more novels should visit Hawaii and feature ethical discussions by lunatics!
O.
It's a wonderful novel, with tinges of the great GK Chesterton woven through it, or perhaps Chesterton's works had tinges of London. The transition from London's prose to that of Fish is seamless, and is only detectable due to a slight change in the energy of the last sections. TAB is a novel that runs on parallel tracks as a book of ideas and a thriller/adventure. It's also spell-bindingly good.
What if there were a bureau of executioners who only accepted contracts if they believed the victim deserved killing, and who were founded on a strictly ethical basis? What if you discovered their existence and lured them into contacting you as a possible client, before selecting their chief as your candidate for assassination? Then, what if their chief turned out to be the uncle of your betrothed? The story is told mostly from the point of view of Winter Hall, and that is the situation in which he finds himself.
It's a witty and philosophical story, which would fall under a misnomer if we called it a comedy. Unsurprisingly, the movie version was a farce, but the book is a bit more complex. Sometimes you might be tempted to use the much abused term 'boys' adventure', while adventure and thriller could be applied at others. At its core, it's a thriller through which its characters are bound by their own codes of conduct, and as such it's also a mild exploration of ethics, morality, and questions of humanity.
Overall, 'The Assassination Bureau, Ltd.' was a great read. Apparently, London never finished the story because he couldn't quite come up with an ending, and bought the original idea from writer Sinclair Lewis. It was eventually completed from notes made by London by Robert L Fish, to some success. It's a fascinating read, and one to be recommended. Also, more novels should visit Hawaii and feature ethical discussions by lunatics!
O.
Wednesday, 23 March 2016
Insert Content Here
In the aftermath of a nice day, and in a state of mild fatigue, this is where the content is scheduled to go. Yes, the content that is my regular challenge. Why struggle for content in an era when the majority of the Internet is filled with worthless gossip, baseless opinions and assorted bits of unpleasantness? Because we can. That said, this content may not be anything more than a trailer for the next post, which will be the next 'On The Book Piles', a grand summary of what is being read. It has changed quite a lot since last time, and Jules Verne is back in the mix. I still can't quite understand that my student in English didn't take to Verne...
Words aren't flowing well today, as the increasingly late hour and the toll of so many lessons makes its presence felt. Talking so much is quite the drain on internal resources, especially on those rare occasions when it doesn't go well! However, it's good exercise for the social muscle, wherever it may be located in the psyche. I wonder what Freud would say about it all, and whether 'psychic expenditure' would factor into the equation anywhere. As with all things, you can't just write or talk forever, for reading and listening must take their turns to maintain equilibrium in the so easily toppled human mind. You can't keep giving without taking in from time to time, after all.
It's a bit better now, as the fingers tap more confidently at the keys, perhaps in response to a recent foray into practicing on the other kind of keyboard. I was never able to play well, but it's nice to practice anyway, and work towards something lyrical and intriguing. The ultimate goal has always been to play some Scott Joplin and get into rag-time, in that mythical other world where such progress is possible within a normal lifetime. A great piano player is a genius in most respects, and often a madman in others; this is part of the great paradox of greatness. How many great people have been deeply flawed? It's probably easier to count the ones who weren't. Please let me know when you think of one.
Another post crawls to a climax, and bed calls as anticipation for seeing 'Kung Fu Panda 3' tomorrow grows. It has been five years since the second instalment. Five years! We can only hope that it gets close to meeting the first two in quality, and be less of a hodgepodge than this post!
O.
Words aren't flowing well today, as the increasingly late hour and the toll of so many lessons makes its presence felt. Talking so much is quite the drain on internal resources, especially on those rare occasions when it doesn't go well! However, it's good exercise for the social muscle, wherever it may be located in the psyche. I wonder what Freud would say about it all, and whether 'psychic expenditure' would factor into the equation anywhere. As with all things, you can't just write or talk forever, for reading and listening must take their turns to maintain equilibrium in the so easily toppled human mind. You can't keep giving without taking in from time to time, after all.
It's a bit better now, as the fingers tap more confidently at the keys, perhaps in response to a recent foray into practicing on the other kind of keyboard. I was never able to play well, but it's nice to practice anyway, and work towards something lyrical and intriguing. The ultimate goal has always been to play some Scott Joplin and get into rag-time, in that mythical other world where such progress is possible within a normal lifetime. A great piano player is a genius in most respects, and often a madman in others; this is part of the great paradox of greatness. How many great people have been deeply flawed? It's probably easier to count the ones who weren't. Please let me know when you think of one.
Another post crawls to a climax, and bed calls as anticipation for seeing 'Kung Fu Panda 3' tomorrow grows. It has been five years since the second instalment. Five years! We can only hope that it gets close to meeting the first two in quality, and be less of a hodgepodge than this post!
O.
Monday, 21 March 2016
Board Game: 'Tales Of The Arabian Nights' (2009 and 1985)
It's a great game. Just two days ago, I was ensorcelled twice, repeatedly imprisoned, spent nine tenths of the game grief-stricken, was wounded, struck by envy, and finally send on a pilgrimage to Bulgars in a most determined and blessed state. On the other hand, my opponent fared even more strangely! I told her not to check out that abandoned fountain...
It's a fun game, a storytelling experience that harks back to the old days of 'Choose Your Own Adventures' books, and even a tiny bit to interactive fiction. You do, however, really need to be at ease with reading. Perhaps I'm putting the cart before the horse, however, with my non-explanation of the game.
Played upon a historical map of the world, the players each choose a character from the Arabian Nights, select a quest card, and then take turns moving around the map and drawing encounter cards, which lead into passages from the monumental 'Book of Tales', a hefty wirebound book which has thousands of fragments which are looked up according to the rules of the game, and to your own choices on the much smaller booklet of decision matrices. Does that sound boring? Well, it's not, not if you do it right and embellish when it's your turn to read...
I really like this game, but rarely get to play it. It's not particularly about winning or losing, but the stories you accumulate and the experience of playing it with the people you know. Some people will hate 'Tales of the Arabian Nights' because the winning and losing is so peripheral, and other people will love it for the same reason, and because they spent a whole game turned into a female ape, and couldn't win until they happened to find a treasure in the Undersea Kingdom that returned them to normal.
Yes, it's really rather cool. Genies, naiads, sages, magicians, beggars, hags and princesses, witches and mermen: All things to be found in an average trip around the board. A very lovely experience.
O.
It's a fun game, a storytelling experience that harks back to the old days of 'Choose Your Own Adventures' books, and even a tiny bit to interactive fiction. You do, however, really need to be at ease with reading. Perhaps I'm putting the cart before the horse, however, with my non-explanation of the game.
Played upon a historical map of the world, the players each choose a character from the Arabian Nights, select a quest card, and then take turns moving around the map and drawing encounter cards, which lead into passages from the monumental 'Book of Tales', a hefty wirebound book which has thousands of fragments which are looked up according to the rules of the game, and to your own choices on the much smaller booklet of decision matrices. Does that sound boring? Well, it's not, not if you do it right and embellish when it's your turn to read...
I really like this game, but rarely get to play it. It's not particularly about winning or losing, but the stories you accumulate and the experience of playing it with the people you know. Some people will hate 'Tales of the Arabian Nights' because the winning and losing is so peripheral, and other people will love it for the same reason, and because they spent a whole game turned into a female ape, and couldn't win until they happened to find a treasure in the Undersea Kingdom that returned them to normal.
Yes, it's really rather cool. Genies, naiads, sages, magicians, beggars, hags and princesses, witches and mermen: All things to be found in an average trip around the board. A very lovely experience.
O.
Saturday, 19 March 2016
Fling Those Words
It's time to fling some words around and see what sticks. They won't be about the never ending referendum debate, now into its second or third week of negativity, nor will they concern the never ending presidential elections over in the USA. What will they concern? It's very difficult to say at this point. Perhaps nothing at all. Please, consider this lovely void I have for sale, with only three previous victims.
This post could be about the always nerve-wracking first session with a new student, or the existential threat posed by cannelloni to the universe, or even the fun of coming up with a new story idea, no matter how brief the story itself may have been. One great advantage of having a student in English is that you get to write things for them to go over and correct, and get ideas for your own scribblings in the process. That is exactly how you end up writing about a bed and breakfast for alien visitors...
I can't provide any references, so the following will fall into the realm of 'unsubstantiated tosh', but it does seem true. In an introduction to a novel, which may have been 'The Master And Margarita', a famous writer was mentioned as thinking that writing a story without some kind of fantastical concept was a worthless exercise. It's difficult for me to argue with that. Without that genre twist, aren't you essentially just writing soap opera? Where's the imagination in writing something which doesn't go out beyond the realm of normalcy? Even adventure stories exist in heightened versions of reality, after all? Yes, perhaps you could do it in classical times, when there were still original ideas, but now?
Ah, unsubstantiated tosh, you have saved me from talking about the silliness of writing while extremely fatigued, and the delights of homemade sugar-free rice pudding. One day that pudding will work perfectly, one day.
O.
This post could be about the always nerve-wracking first session with a new student, or the existential threat posed by cannelloni to the universe, or even the fun of coming up with a new story idea, no matter how brief the story itself may have been. One great advantage of having a student in English is that you get to write things for them to go over and correct, and get ideas for your own scribblings in the process. That is exactly how you end up writing about a bed and breakfast for alien visitors...
I can't provide any references, so the following will fall into the realm of 'unsubstantiated tosh', but it does seem true. In an introduction to a novel, which may have been 'The Master And Margarita', a famous writer was mentioned as thinking that writing a story without some kind of fantastical concept was a worthless exercise. It's difficult for me to argue with that. Without that genre twist, aren't you essentially just writing soap opera? Where's the imagination in writing something which doesn't go out beyond the realm of normalcy? Even adventure stories exist in heightened versions of reality, after all? Yes, perhaps you could do it in classical times, when there were still original ideas, but now?
Ah, unsubstantiated tosh, you have saved me from talking about the silliness of writing while extremely fatigued, and the delights of homemade sugar-free rice pudding. One day that pudding will work perfectly, one day.
O.
Thursday, 17 March 2016
Story: 'Knock, Knock'
'Tick tock', went the clock, as I entered the house. It was six o'clock in the evening. The door creaked, my shoos squeaked, and my stomach rumbled. Even the cat meowed. It wasn't an auspicious start, so I moved on quickly. Food time couldn't wait much longer.
The kitchen was warm and welcoming; a haven in blue and orange. The spaceship seen through the window didn't make any difference at all to my improving mood.
Hold on. I thought for a moment. 'The spaceship'?
Yes, it was a spaceship. My mind raced, but not for the reasons you may have predicted. No, I was worrying whether tourist season had begun early? Had I missed the official date? I didn't have any crackers in the cupboard yet! Nor apple pies! The long Winter had seemed like it would never end.
Some steps were approaching the back door. A pulsing light speckled the walls of the kitchen. Some moments later, five precise short raps sounded on the door, which shuddered a little.
Tourist season already! It had to be! I checked the kitchen over quickly, and noted the washing up that still waited to be done, sadly. Then, before the guest rapped again, I opened the door.
"Welcome, welcome." The visitor was the usual excited mess. He even had an extra arm, and wore a baseball cap. At his feet (thankfully, only two), there was a large bag. The bag had a number of stickers, presumably emblems of previous holidays. "Yes, you can come in."
"Blarp. Blap blip. Clak!" The visitor smacked himself in the nose, and then continued. "Sorry about that. Did you get my reservation?"
"No. There must have been a mix-up of some kind. However, there is a room available. I will just get a form for you to fill in. Here, have a seat."
The alien took the chair and held it confusedly.
"Oh, umm, we usually sit on those. 'Take a seat' means to sit down. Like this?" I demonstrated.
"Woo hoo! Civilization! Local customs!" The visitor looked excited. He took a photograph. "It's like a whole new world! My mother said to take lots of photos. What's this?" He pointed at the cooker. The visitor took another picture.
"That's what we use to heat and cook food. Okay. Let's fill in this form and check you're up to date with inoculations, vaccinations. And other things.''
Plainly, it was going to be a long week...
The kitchen was warm and welcoming; a haven in blue and orange. The spaceship seen through the window didn't make any difference at all to my improving mood.
Hold on. I thought for a moment. 'The spaceship'?
Yes, it was a spaceship. My mind raced, but not for the reasons you may have predicted. No, I was worrying whether tourist season had begun early? Had I missed the official date? I didn't have any crackers in the cupboard yet! Nor apple pies! The long Winter had seemed like it would never end.
Some steps were approaching the back door. A pulsing light speckled the walls of the kitchen. Some moments later, five precise short raps sounded on the door, which shuddered a little.
Tourist season already! It had to be! I checked the kitchen over quickly, and noted the washing up that still waited to be done, sadly. Then, before the guest rapped again, I opened the door.
"Welcome, welcome." The visitor was the usual excited mess. He even had an extra arm, and wore a baseball cap. At his feet (thankfully, only two), there was a large bag. The bag had a number of stickers, presumably emblems of previous holidays. "Yes, you can come in."
"Blarp. Blap blip. Clak!" The visitor smacked himself in the nose, and then continued. "Sorry about that. Did you get my reservation?"
"No. There must have been a mix-up of some kind. However, there is a room available. I will just get a form for you to fill in. Here, have a seat."
The alien took the chair and held it confusedly.
"Oh, umm, we usually sit on those. 'Take a seat' means to sit down. Like this?" I demonstrated.
"Woo hoo! Civilization! Local customs!" The visitor looked excited. He took a photograph. "It's like a whole new world! My mother said to take lots of photos. What's this?" He pointed at the cooker. The visitor took another picture.
"That's what we use to heat and cook food. Okay. Let's fill in this form and check you're up to date with inoculations, vaccinations. And other things.''
Plainly, it was going to be a long week...
Tuesday, 15 March 2016
Instalments
It's a personal challenge for me to continue the stories that are running here at 'The Quirky Muffin' and get them finished in a less than geological time scale. Does that ever happen? Well, it used to. Let's not get into mental blocks or creative ennui, but at the moment they're not zipping along at all...
Maybe the creative muscle is out of shape. It might need some fine tuning, as does the language muscle. Teaching mathematics all week isn't exactly the best thing for creativity, after all. Maybe it just needs some spitballing. What are the story project right now, anyway?
- 'The Glove' is becoming ever more tortured, with three abortions and returns to earlier sections. It's extremely close to being stamped 'abandoned', but there is something there in the idea of a colony world that has had its technical and artistic cultures segregated centuries before. The vital question is this: Into what exactly is Steffan going to get mixed up?
- 'The Ninja Of Health' is rather more promising, as it seems to be flowing and have some momentum. The end point is shrouded in mystery, but I would be amazed if it didn't involve a poodle and a bucket of paper clips being deluged from above. Such is the way of things. There is a path. It has been prepared for.
- 'Diary Of A Laundry Robot' is an entirely closed book, but the principal obstacle seems to be in producing a drama in the world of the Querg Continuum, where the most thrilling events involve hats and openings of the great Book Of Histories. Oh, that was an idea I just had. Of course! It can be a prophecy story!
- The joined-up version of 'Oneiromancy', with actual continuity is coming, once a green pen and a bucket of ice water have been produced for editing purposes. (The ice water is for refreshment and tuning the columns of the aqua-phone. Ping!)
- 'The Wheels In The Sky' is in deep storage, but will kick in as other stories close, as will the second phases of 'Triangles' and 'Wordspace'. There will be words!
Hmmm, I'm actually feeling much more positive about it all now. There just needs to be an idea for 'The Glove'!
O.
Maybe the creative muscle is out of shape. It might need some fine tuning, as does the language muscle. Teaching mathematics all week isn't exactly the best thing for creativity, after all. Maybe it just needs some spitballing. What are the story project right now, anyway?
- 'The Glove' is becoming ever more tortured, with three abortions and returns to earlier sections. It's extremely close to being stamped 'abandoned', but there is something there in the idea of a colony world that has had its technical and artistic cultures segregated centuries before. The vital question is this: Into what exactly is Steffan going to get mixed up?
- 'The Ninja Of Health' is rather more promising, as it seems to be flowing and have some momentum. The end point is shrouded in mystery, but I would be amazed if it didn't involve a poodle and a bucket of paper clips being deluged from above. Such is the way of things. There is a path. It has been prepared for.
- 'Diary Of A Laundry Robot' is an entirely closed book, but the principal obstacle seems to be in producing a drama in the world of the Querg Continuum, where the most thrilling events involve hats and openings of the great Book Of Histories. Oh, that was an idea I just had. Of course! It can be a prophecy story!
- The joined-up version of 'Oneiromancy', with actual continuity is coming, once a green pen and a bucket of ice water have been produced for editing purposes. (The ice water is for refreshment and tuning the columns of the aqua-phone. Ping!)
- 'The Wheels In The Sky' is in deep storage, but will kick in as other stories close, as will the second phases of 'Triangles' and 'Wordspace'. There will be words!
Hmmm, I'm actually feeling much more positive about it all now. There just needs to be an idea for 'The Glove'!
O.
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