(Pre-planned holiday cover post)
As a general rule, you shouldn't write about films immediately after seeing them. Even I, the grand objective, am subject to partiality in the very short time reaction. However, I ignore that rule very frequently, so why stop now? I throw away arbitrary rules with glee.
Firstly, of course I cried; It was a very well told version of the Eddie The Eagle story, and I cry at practically any appropriate film which is made even semi-adequately. (Again, I cried while watching Disney's 'Bolt', which is a very ambiguous symptom.)
'Eddie the Eagle' is a fictionalised version of the real Olympic story of Eddie 'The Eagle' Edwards, our entire British ski jumping squad for the 1988 Calgary Winter Olympics. An unlikely hero from start to finish, and one with only a year of practice under his belt, our eponymous and bespectacled chap made quite the splash in coming last in two categories of jump while simultaneously breaking two British records and recording his own personal bests in the process. The rest of the film is entirely made up, I think, and involves his reluctant and inebriated coach, as played by Hugh 'I'm real in everything I do' Jackman.
It's a good film, and 'feel good' in almost every way that counts. Dexter Fletcher, who I know from his astonishing performance in the very old series 'Press Gang' (which I may have written about, some while ago), directs fantastically well. Who would have thought that guy with the fake American accent would have turned out so well? He even cast Colin! Yes, Colin from 'Press Gang' is in this! Isn't loyalty wonderful? He wasn't wearing a suit covered in half ping-pong balls, but you can't have everything. Eddie is played by Taran Egerton, and does have problems hitting the correct tone for a while, playing the real life mannerisms like someone halfway down a particularly demented alley. He does, however, pull it together increasingly well in the second half of the narrative.
Go ahead, be uplifted. It's a decent movie, a great underdog story, and deserves to be seen. Or, if you like, go see 'Real Steel' instead. Hugh Jackman is just one of those guys who can do no wrong...
O.
PS Oh, and if you were ever under the illusion that the Olympics is actually about showcasing sportsmen, then let that go now. The cynicism underlying the whole endeavour is utterly appalling. They (you know... THEM.) actively changed the rules to prevent him from ever qualifying again. What abject creepery. Here endeth the lesson.
Thursday, 14 April 2016
Tuesday, 12 April 2016
Story: 'Diary of a Laundry Robot', Week VII
( Week VI , Week VIII )
Saturday
Maintenance here is completely different to our old home! The Quergs are so advanced that they take us away for a little chat and a cup of coffee! Can a robot actually drink coffee? Well, apparently so, or whatever the Quergish equivalent might be. The maintenance Querg didn't elaborate. There aren't many robots here in the Continuum, so I think we are being treated very specially. I asked her about the lurker, but she said that there was no news. My systems have never been in such good order. What is in that coffee?
Monday
Laundry, laundry, laundry. It's a wonderful thing to be needed. We are beginning to get a bit fuzzy minded under the deluge of all the hats from the Bureau, though. It's always hats! Hats, hats, hats! Celia is starting to look a bit askance at it all too. Our supervisor Querg has mentioned that we will be getting other things in the next few days, but for now: Hats! At least there's a variety of colours... We even had our one and only gold bobble so far earlier today...
Tuesday
Golly, internal journal, we found a non-Quergish footprint in the grass (or pseudo-grass) outside the building this morning. Supervisor Querg looked at it most curiously and pronounced himself officially concerned. The Querg Continuum is a free society, but people are discouraged from lurking, especially in the environs of the official Bureaus. He says we are protected, but won't say how. We returned the gold bobbled hat today. It was nice to see something so rare.
Thursday
The gold bobble hat is back, and so is our lurker! In fact, he is looking in through the window at us right now, and pulling faces! If I weren't programmed for unfailing politeness, it would be time to run for the hills! Are there hills? I'll have to ask. We can't see any from where we are. Oh now, the lurker has vanished from the window... The golden bobble has begun to glow... It might be time to have a mild circuit shutdown!
Friday
Yesterday was a very confusing day. The lurker turned out to be a nice elephant called Egbert, very pale in colour, who has promised to show us around the neighbourhood over the weekend. Supervisor Querg is checking him out right now, but Egbert is so eccentric and amiable that I can't believe that there's a danger. Celia immediately developed a great affection for him, possibly because he represents an entirely different form of conversation. How on Earth did he get here, though? It's puzzling. And why did the hat bobble glow?
To be continued...
NOTE: France, here I come, and so do cover reviews. Whoop whoop!
Saturday
Maintenance here is completely different to our old home! The Quergs are so advanced that they take us away for a little chat and a cup of coffee! Can a robot actually drink coffee? Well, apparently so, or whatever the Quergish equivalent might be. The maintenance Querg didn't elaborate. There aren't many robots here in the Continuum, so I think we are being treated very specially. I asked her about the lurker, but she said that there was no news. My systems have never been in such good order. What is in that coffee?
Monday
Laundry, laundry, laundry. It's a wonderful thing to be needed. We are beginning to get a bit fuzzy minded under the deluge of all the hats from the Bureau, though. It's always hats! Hats, hats, hats! Celia is starting to look a bit askance at it all too. Our supervisor Querg has mentioned that we will be getting other things in the next few days, but for now: Hats! At least there's a variety of colours... We even had our one and only gold bobble so far earlier today...
Tuesday
Golly, internal journal, we found a non-Quergish footprint in the grass (or pseudo-grass) outside the building this morning. Supervisor Querg looked at it most curiously and pronounced himself officially concerned. The Querg Continuum is a free society, but people are discouraged from lurking, especially in the environs of the official Bureaus. He says we are protected, but won't say how. We returned the gold bobbled hat today. It was nice to see something so rare.
Thursday
The gold bobble hat is back, and so is our lurker! In fact, he is looking in through the window at us right now, and pulling faces! If I weren't programmed for unfailing politeness, it would be time to run for the hills! Are there hills? I'll have to ask. We can't see any from where we are. Oh now, the lurker has vanished from the window... The golden bobble has begun to glow... It might be time to have a mild circuit shutdown!
Friday
Yesterday was a very confusing day. The lurker turned out to be a nice elephant called Egbert, very pale in colour, who has promised to show us around the neighbourhood over the weekend. Supervisor Querg is checking him out right now, but Egbert is so eccentric and amiable that I can't believe that there's a danger. Celia immediately developed a great affection for him, possibly because he represents an entirely different form of conversation. How on Earth did he get here, though? It's puzzling. And why did the hat bobble glow?
To be continued...
NOTE: France, here I come, and so do cover reviews. Whoop whoop!
Sunday, 10 April 2016
Alligators Are Underrepresented
This time, it was done punctually, and with great leisure. The tax return is done, and with nine months still to go before the deadline! In the paranoia business, this is called being late. Oh, so tardy it is. The whole tedious business did wipe out the chance of writing a story episode, though, which is annoying. It's true that I'm still partially blocked on all three stories, suffering motivation problems, and that my hair is due for a haircut, but it would have been nice to write something. Instead, we have the now customary hodge podge of words slung together while wrestling with Orpheus's alligator. If Orpheus didn't have an alligator in the myths, then I will be very disappointed.
What if Orpheus had an alligator? Or Odin? Or St Steven? Would those mythologies now be radically different? Would Thor have gotten away with so much misbehaviour? What if there were a Zappo the Supercroc? Was there really not one? I'm disappointed. What if Sherlock Holmes and Dr Watson had had a pet alligator? Would Mrs Hudson have been so grumpy then? It would actually be possible to reinvigorate the whole of fiction writing with this one simple addition. I'll have to think about how to introduce alligators into my stories, possibly in the same way they did with tigers and Captain Marvel, the original Captain Marvel. We don't talk about the new one, invented purely to steal the name. [Please insert antiquated grumbling here]
Oh, the word well has run dry, in an alarmingly sudden manner. Could it be a sign that the brain has worked enough for today, having deployed ideas in multiple languages and piloted through an arduous swimming session, all of this after multiple bicycle trips of varying arduosity over the course of the week? Or does it just mean that it has run out of rice pudding power? Rice pudding power is second only to muesli power, but has the advantage of being warm and homemade. You can make rice pudding extremely easily, actually. All you need is the pudding rice, some milk, some honey and your own choice from nutmeg, cinnamon, vanilla pods and cloves. You then mix it all up in a greased oven dish and bake it on medium/low for a few hours. Aha, you didn't expect any baking advice again, did you! There's a reason for that subtitle!
It's time to stop now, having wandered around alligators and rice pudding for long enough. A few mere days more and boats will begin to factor into the equation as the Quirky Muffin goes on sabbatical once again. One cover post out of three is in the bag, but will the other two get done at all? Only time will tell... Mwahahahahaha.
The Shadow knows.
O.
What if Orpheus had an alligator? Or Odin? Or St Steven? Would those mythologies now be radically different? Would Thor have gotten away with so much misbehaviour? What if there were a Zappo the Supercroc? Was there really not one? I'm disappointed. What if Sherlock Holmes and Dr Watson had had a pet alligator? Would Mrs Hudson have been so grumpy then? It would actually be possible to reinvigorate the whole of fiction writing with this one simple addition. I'll have to think about how to introduce alligators into my stories, possibly in the same way they did with tigers and Captain Marvel, the original Captain Marvel. We don't talk about the new one, invented purely to steal the name. [Please insert antiquated grumbling here]
Oh, the word well has run dry, in an alarmingly sudden manner. Could it be a sign that the brain has worked enough for today, having deployed ideas in multiple languages and piloted through an arduous swimming session, all of this after multiple bicycle trips of varying arduosity over the course of the week? Or does it just mean that it has run out of rice pudding power? Rice pudding power is second only to muesli power, but has the advantage of being warm and homemade. You can make rice pudding extremely easily, actually. All you need is the pudding rice, some milk, some honey and your own choice from nutmeg, cinnamon, vanilla pods and cloves. You then mix it all up in a greased oven dish and bake it on medium/low for a few hours. Aha, you didn't expect any baking advice again, did you! There's a reason for that subtitle!
It's time to stop now, having wandered around alligators and rice pudding for long enough. A few mere days more and boats will begin to factor into the equation as the Quirky Muffin goes on sabbatical once again. One cover post out of three is in the bag, but will the other two get done at all? Only time will tell... Mwahahahahaha.
The Shadow knows.
O.
Friday, 8 April 2016
Cover Posts
Going away is always a curious time, as I always end up writing cover posts, those curious pre-planned and pre-posted articles that pop while I'm gone. Who knows what they'll be? Well, I do, broadly, and have already scheduled one after going to the cinema yesterday. You'll just have to wait and see. It's difficult to write in double quantity while keeping up the now seven students, so the full minimum of three posts for six days of absence might not be fulfilled, but it's possible. Even now, ideas are percolating, and they're not all about 'Star Trek'.
France awaits, as does a friend not seen for a decade. It's shameless negligence on my part to wait so long. People shouldn't be neglected so, especially dear friends. Hence, I shall desert the sceptred isle of Great Britain, and visit the Continent for the last time before that referendum we're not talking about. Crikey, what if the Continent vanishes as a result? Gadzooks! Also, is my friend still recognisable, nice and mildly insane? Good questions all.
Notes for travelling to the Continent: Go to Sainsbury before the ferry and buy real food which isn't smothered in cream or sour cream; Wrap all your money in cotton wool, and hide it inside the false bottom of your suitcase (next to the publicly unacceptable mild cheddar cheese); Remember to not try to speak the local language as it will only spark hilarity amongst the locals and they will try to practice their English on you in any case; Beware strangers bearing gifts, unless they have coffee cremes.
Oh, the urge to watch 'The Beiderbecke Collection' is incredibly strong right now. It was the reference to strangers and coffee cremes that did it. Argh. That was a magnificent little series of mini-series that no-one has ever heard of...
Let's get to sleeping. Enough of this wordsmithing for one day.
O.
France awaits, as does a friend not seen for a decade. It's shameless negligence on my part to wait so long. People shouldn't be neglected so, especially dear friends. Hence, I shall desert the sceptred isle of Great Britain, and visit the Continent for the last time before that referendum we're not talking about. Crikey, what if the Continent vanishes as a result? Gadzooks! Also, is my friend still recognisable, nice and mildly insane? Good questions all.
Notes for travelling to the Continent: Go to Sainsbury before the ferry and buy real food which isn't smothered in cream or sour cream; Wrap all your money in cotton wool, and hide it inside the false bottom of your suitcase (next to the publicly unacceptable mild cheddar cheese); Remember to not try to speak the local language as it will only spark hilarity amongst the locals and they will try to practice their English on you in any case; Beware strangers bearing gifts, unless they have coffee cremes.
Oh, the urge to watch 'The Beiderbecke Collection' is incredibly strong right now. It was the reference to strangers and coffee cremes that did it. Argh. That was a magnificent little series of mini-series that no-one has ever heard of...
Let's get to sleeping. Enough of this wordsmithing for one day.
O.
Wednesday, 6 April 2016
Television: 'The West Wing: Take This Sabbath Day' (2000) (Episode 1x14)
It's a classic, and an hour of television that works for all of its comedic, dramatic and tragedic elements. It's hard to even talk about, because it's all tied so neatly together. This will probably be superficial in the extreme.
'Take This Sabbath Day' is about the dilemma that emerges within President Bartlet - a continuation of his fallibility introduced in the previous episode - when an appeal is rejected by the Supreme Court and the responsibility for commuting a federal execution falls at his door. It's also about Josh being trapped in some bright yellow waders when unexpectedly dealing with a campaign manager, and Toby's adventures at temple, as well as one of the most potent parables ever to be handed down via television. None of this might have happened had Martin Sheen's excellence not caused the president to be a regular character in the show, forcing some retroactive character flaws later in the season to lessen his burgeoningly impractical perfection. This is one of the examples of those that works best.
It's fascinating that a television episode would go into the essential dilemma of a Catholic president of the United States in a death penalty quandary, run a comedic counterpoint involving a hungover Josh and a deaf campaign manager, and then pull it off. If you then throw in interviews with a priest, a rabbi and an incidental Quaker, you would think that you would end up with an unwieldy mess, but instead we have a touching and tragic moment in the life of the West Wing. As an individual episode, it excels on all levels, and in the season as a whole it builds to the grand transition of the year, the moment when push comes to shove and Mandy is pushed ever closer to her bus ride to Mandyville.
'The West Wing' was an amazing series, and the sheer number of episodes that fulfilled the series' potential was astounding, especially in the first two years. This is just one of them. If you ever doubt the ability of Aaron Sorkin, showrunner and virtuoso screenwriter, then take those doubts back immediately. There was a man in bright yellow waders in a show about the death penalty, and it works. Meanwhile, the story of Jed Bartlet's fallibility continues...
O.
'Take This Sabbath Day' is about the dilemma that emerges within President Bartlet - a continuation of his fallibility introduced in the previous episode - when an appeal is rejected by the Supreme Court and the responsibility for commuting a federal execution falls at his door. It's also about Josh being trapped in some bright yellow waders when unexpectedly dealing with a campaign manager, and Toby's adventures at temple, as well as one of the most potent parables ever to be handed down via television. None of this might have happened had Martin Sheen's excellence not caused the president to be a regular character in the show, forcing some retroactive character flaws later in the season to lessen his burgeoningly impractical perfection. This is one of the examples of those that works best.
It's fascinating that a television episode would go into the essential dilemma of a Catholic president of the United States in a death penalty quandary, run a comedic counterpoint involving a hungover Josh and a deaf campaign manager, and then pull it off. If you then throw in interviews with a priest, a rabbi and an incidental Quaker, you would think that you would end up with an unwieldy mess, but instead we have a touching and tragic moment in the life of the West Wing. As an individual episode, it excels on all levels, and in the season as a whole it builds to the grand transition of the year, the moment when push comes to shove and Mandy is pushed ever closer to her bus ride to Mandyville.
'The West Wing' was an amazing series, and the sheer number of episodes that fulfilled the series' potential was astounding, especially in the first two years. This is just one of them. If you ever doubt the ability of Aaron Sorkin, showrunner and virtuoso screenwriter, then take those doubts back immediately. There was a man in bright yellow waders in a show about the death penalty, and it works. Meanwhile, the story of Jed Bartlet's fallibility continues...
O.
Monday, 4 April 2016
Five Unrelated Topics, a.k.a. Six Hundred And Seventy Four
A lot of my stories seem to feature crazy people. Do you think it means something? Is it indicative? Is it connected with the shrine to pumpkins hidden underneath the floorboards? Is it because it's much more fun to write dialogues and monologues for people at least halfway out of their trees? Is it because I talk to myself and take long walks to nowhere while wondering about totally irrelevant things? Well, that last one is more in line with why I have never held on to a steady job, but that's a topic for another day. It's much nicer to be your own boss and help people, in any case.
'Armadale' is beginning to zoom by. It's a remarkable novel, although I wish that the foreshadowing weren't layered on quite so profusely. If there's one thing I loathe in narrative fiction, it is foreshadowing. Is it possible, however, that this is false foreshadowing, which will be averted? We can only hope. On an unrelated note, I got my import copy of 'The Peanuts Movie' on DVD today, and it is every bit as good as I remembered. Truly, it's very difficult to understand why it didn't have a bigger impact when it was out in the theatres.
The Easter holidays are almost over, and it's time to start thinking about the Summer, as the bonfires get up to full strength and the stench begins to settle over the valleys. It won't be long now until a state of permanent smoke sickness kicks in, complete with stinky clothes extraordinaire. Oh, it won't really be that bad, but the continuing craving that people seem to have for burning things is quite upsetting. What to do with the Summer? What? It's quite difficult when you have all the sunburn resistance of an albino mole. Perhaps it will be the season for keyboard practice, since the fingers be tempting frostbite in the process? One day there will be an electric piano, and a pile of ludicrous scores to play... Could there be another trip after that to France in a week and a half? Perhaps.
In a minor note, 'Kung Fu Panda 3' was disappointing. It didn't live up to its predecessors at all, and actually seemed to be a stealthy premature ending to the series that had been planned to go to six films. It wasn't exactly bad, but was much more superficial, and fell victim to being 'just a kids movie' on many levels. It's a shame. It also really felt like Tigress should have been the one who saved the day, but perhaps that's just me fixing the film in retrospect.
It's nice to not feel quite so blocked up about 'The Glove' any more, as the weapon of last resort has been deployed in the continuing of that story: Pen and paper. There's nothing so liberating as ink, when you're written into a scenario you just can't stand. More on this in a later post, for now it is time to cease, and look forward to the great repose. Ah, sleep, after a day of 'Armadale', 'The Peanuts Movie', and the great 'Quantum Leap' episode entitled 'The Colour Of Truth'. A lovely combination, which almost makes up for completely forgetting several important calendar events. I sigh.
O.
'Armadale' is beginning to zoom by. It's a remarkable novel, although I wish that the foreshadowing weren't layered on quite so profusely. If there's one thing I loathe in narrative fiction, it is foreshadowing. Is it possible, however, that this is false foreshadowing, which will be averted? We can only hope. On an unrelated note, I got my import copy of 'The Peanuts Movie' on DVD today, and it is every bit as good as I remembered. Truly, it's very difficult to understand why it didn't have a bigger impact when it was out in the theatres.
The Easter holidays are almost over, and it's time to start thinking about the Summer, as the bonfires get up to full strength and the stench begins to settle over the valleys. It won't be long now until a state of permanent smoke sickness kicks in, complete with stinky clothes extraordinaire. Oh, it won't really be that bad, but the continuing craving that people seem to have for burning things is quite upsetting. What to do with the Summer? What? It's quite difficult when you have all the sunburn resistance of an albino mole. Perhaps it will be the season for keyboard practice, since the fingers be tempting frostbite in the process? One day there will be an electric piano, and a pile of ludicrous scores to play... Could there be another trip after that to France in a week and a half? Perhaps.
In a minor note, 'Kung Fu Panda 3' was disappointing. It didn't live up to its predecessors at all, and actually seemed to be a stealthy premature ending to the series that had been planned to go to six films. It wasn't exactly bad, but was much more superficial, and fell victim to being 'just a kids movie' on many levels. It's a shame. It also really felt like Tigress should have been the one who saved the day, but perhaps that's just me fixing the film in retrospect.
It's nice to not feel quite so blocked up about 'The Glove' any more, as the weapon of last resort has been deployed in the continuing of that story: Pen and paper. There's nothing so liberating as ink, when you're written into a scenario you just can't stand. More on this in a later post, for now it is time to cease, and look forward to the great repose. Ah, sleep, after a day of 'Armadale', 'The Peanuts Movie', and the great 'Quantum Leap' episode entitled 'The Colour Of Truth'. A lovely combination, which almost makes up for completely forgetting several important calendar events. I sigh.
O.
Saturday, 2 April 2016
Story: The Glove, X
( Part IX , XI )
The meal was large and tasty, and would have been wonderful is Steffan weren't still blimp-lagged. He did some grazing, and listened as Rook began to ramble.
"'What could be wrong?' is what you might be wondering. 'What problem could there be in this lovely little paradise we have created?'" Steffan's host stopped to drink some more of his milk, and then continued. "'Why should the steady flow of student exchanges between our two cities slow to a measly trickle, and why are the Pipers so worried?' Ha! Serves them right!"
"You have milk on your moustache," observed Steffan.
"What? Oh, I'll let it be. It's bound to be joined by some more in a few moments." Nevertheless, as vanity kicked in, Rook wiped himself clean and then returned to his baked potato.
"And...?"
"We've been losing scouts, Master Steffan. It's not just the Pipers of Burgh that have been losing people. Our people are vanishing, the messengers and couriers that take vital supplies out to the townships. Your grand and supreme master - bah! - had a plan for you here. I don't know what."
"He said it would be mainly the collating of information, and intermediary to the local authorities, but I didn't quite believe him." Steffan had the grace to look embarrassed as he spoke.
A large pile of beans vanished from Rook's dish, and he looked up, apparently replete. "That's a heavy responsibility for a student!"
Steffan remained silent.
"Here at the inn, we used to get reports about the exams and up and coming talent. That was before Octavius, though. A lot has changed in the last few years. Most for the good, but the bad is beginning to mount up." Rook leaned back in his chair. "Octavius..."
"You seem to know him well." Steffan was curious.
"Oh, he's my brother, but don't hold it against me. We have other things to think about. Have you ever heard of a daft jester who calls himself 'The Glove'?"
"Your brother!"
"I knew you wouldn't get over that so quickly." Rook took to muttering darkly. "It's no big thing. I'm sure you've got family too! Come on. Aggie will be home by now, and she'll want to get you shipshape for tomorrow. You'll want to look around, I take it. Look for a job, and so on."
Steffan felt as if everything was spiralling out of his control. "I--"
"We'll get you sorted. You'll be doing whatever it is you wanted, but in good style." Rook pulled him out of the banquet room, just in time to miss something exceedingly noteworthy...
To be continued...
The meal was large and tasty, and would have been wonderful is Steffan weren't still blimp-lagged. He did some grazing, and listened as Rook began to ramble.
"'What could be wrong?' is what you might be wondering. 'What problem could there be in this lovely little paradise we have created?'" Steffan's host stopped to drink some more of his milk, and then continued. "'Why should the steady flow of student exchanges between our two cities slow to a measly trickle, and why are the Pipers so worried?' Ha! Serves them right!"
"You have milk on your moustache," observed Steffan.
"What? Oh, I'll let it be. It's bound to be joined by some more in a few moments." Nevertheless, as vanity kicked in, Rook wiped himself clean and then returned to his baked potato.
"And...?"
"We've been losing scouts, Master Steffan. It's not just the Pipers of Burgh that have been losing people. Our people are vanishing, the messengers and couriers that take vital supplies out to the townships. Your grand and supreme master - bah! - had a plan for you here. I don't know what."
"He said it would be mainly the collating of information, and intermediary to the local authorities, but I didn't quite believe him." Steffan had the grace to look embarrassed as he spoke.
A large pile of beans vanished from Rook's dish, and he looked up, apparently replete. "That's a heavy responsibility for a student!"
Steffan remained silent.
"Here at the inn, we used to get reports about the exams and up and coming talent. That was before Octavius, though. A lot has changed in the last few years. Most for the good, but the bad is beginning to mount up." Rook leaned back in his chair. "Octavius..."
"You seem to know him well." Steffan was curious.
"Oh, he's my brother, but don't hold it against me. We have other things to think about. Have you ever heard of a daft jester who calls himself 'The Glove'?"
"Your brother!"
"I knew you wouldn't get over that so quickly." Rook took to muttering darkly. "It's no big thing. I'm sure you've got family too! Come on. Aggie will be home by now, and she'll want to get you shipshape for tomorrow. You'll want to look around, I take it. Look for a job, and so on."
Steffan felt as if everything was spiralling out of his control. "I--"
"We'll get you sorted. You'll be doing whatever it is you wanted, but in good style." Rook pulled him out of the banquet room, just in time to miss something exceedingly noteworthy...
To be continued...
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