( Part XI , XIII )
Agnethia was of course the opposite of her mountainous uncle, a winsome but steely looking young lady. Steffan was awestruck just by her presence. No, she wasn't classically beautiful, but she carried herself in such a wonderful way...
Hold on, if Octavius was Rook's brother, and Aggie was his niece, then wasn't she--
"If you keep staring at me, I'll have to assume you're a mute of some kind!" Aggie glared.
"I'm -- I'm sorry. You're nothing like the girls at home."
"Humph." She looked around his room, finally satisfied. "This is your entry chip, this is your food card, and these are your backup keys. The common eating times are listed on the door." Aggie turned to the door, and then turned back. "What's so different?"
"You're like a lady from times past. Someone so classy that I feel like I should be running off to hide in the kitchen." Was what Steffan wanted to say. Instead, he managed to stammer out, "Your eyes, they -- they seem to shine light when you look at me." Gibberish. He inwardly screamed at himself.
"Hmm. See you around." Aggie left.
* * *
Days passed, and Steffan spent his time looking for employment and information on the disconnect between Edin and Burgh. Rook refused to talk about the cessation of exchange students between the two cities for the moment, and Aggie was too busy with her linguistic studies to be of much use, as well as uncertain about him.
Work was elusive, but he had funds to keep going for a while, and the mystery was far more interesting. One day, on a trip to the satellite town of Canterbury, Steffan was wandering around a kirk and enjoying the forest, while the teashop was tempting him with cakes.
Then a shot rang out, and everything became slightly different.
To be continued...
Monday, 13 June 2016
Saturday, 11 June 2016
No, Not Another Dodecahedron!
It was a well meaning project to begin with: To make origami models of all of the five Platonic solids with each of my primary school tutees. They would enjoy it, I thought, and was right. However, the five Platonic solids require a total of twenty seven pieces for each tutee, and if I ever have to make another twelve-component dodecahedron after this week, madness might ensue! Thank goodness that the ending is in sight! Only two dodecahedra and two icosahedra await, and only ten pieces remain to be made, with a possible hexahedron or to in addition to display a non-Platonic solid. My hexahedra keep vanishing for some reason. They might be disappearing into an interdimensional void or secretly enfolding the secret names of the secret international overlords, and thus being confiscated at every opportunity. Anything might be happening to them. Do you think there's an underground market in origami hexahedra? Could that be it? Are they even now being smuggled into deepest Ruritania inside copper-lined urns?
Actually, the dodecahedron is a marvelously silly model, and quite an adventure to make for the first time. It's the second and following cases that become a bit tiring, as each one requires twelve individually made components. However, ours is to moan and whine, but to delight, covertly explain regularity in shapes, and support invisible tape manufacturers wherever they may be.
Here at the Quirky Muffin, you are safe from football. There will be no football mentioned here, nor will there be much on politics once this accursed referendum is over, and the Olympics will be but a barely mentioned shadow. Last time, the Olympics were mentioned only because of a strange fascination with the women's basketball tournement, which was wonderfully free of the hype and corrupting money you might have found in lots of the other events. The women's basketball was endearing and fun. Ah... happy times... It's hard to believe there was a time when this blog could have been about cricket, snooker and golf. And 'Star Trek', of course, always 'Star Trek'.
Now you, the imaginary reader, are returned to your regular existences. Nest time: Another story segment, or a post about the ridiculous episode of 'Star Trek' that was entitled 'The Alternative Factor'. There was much falling off of cliffs by people with dodgy moustaches in that one. It's an utterly daft show, but kind of fun.
O.
Actually, the dodecahedron is a marvelously silly model, and quite an adventure to make for the first time. It's the second and following cases that become a bit tiring, as each one requires twelve individually made components. However, ours is to moan and whine, but to delight, covertly explain regularity in shapes, and support invisible tape manufacturers wherever they may be.
Here at the Quirky Muffin, you are safe from football. There will be no football mentioned here, nor will there be much on politics once this accursed referendum is over, and the Olympics will be but a barely mentioned shadow. Last time, the Olympics were mentioned only because of a strange fascination with the women's basketball tournement, which was wonderfully free of the hype and corrupting money you might have found in lots of the other events. The women's basketball was endearing and fun. Ah... happy times... It's hard to believe there was a time when this blog could have been about cricket, snooker and golf. And 'Star Trek', of course, always 'Star Trek'.
Now you, the imaginary reader, are returned to your regular existences. Nest time: Another story segment, or a post about the ridiculous episode of 'Star Trek' that was entitled 'The Alternative Factor'. There was much falling off of cliffs by people with dodgy moustaches in that one. It's an utterly daft show, but kind of fun.
O.
Thursday, 9 June 2016
Television: 'Three Men In A Boat' (1975)
This was lovely. A real treat. A production that wouldn't even be considered now, for all its simplicity, wit and charm. As an adaptation of a book in which not an awful lot happens but in a funny way, it fits its remit remarkably. Directed by Stephen Frears (a legendary name I know nothing about), adapted by Tom Stoppard (ditto), and starring Tim Curry, Michael Palin and Stephen Moore, this is a wonderful and utterly silly achievement. Ah, the wonderful Stephen Moore, the greatly underrated marvel of a man himself. You can't help but love him, whether he's voicing Marvin the Paranoid Android in the original 'Hitchhiker's Guide To The Galaxy' radio series, wandering about indecisively in the movie 'Clockwise' or hanging endlessly about on children's television in the nineteen eighties and nineties. He's just one of those guys. A treasure.
Adapting Jerome K Jerome's 'Three Men In A Boat' would seem to be a doomed exercise in many ways. It's legendary status as one of the great comedic written works stands in the way, inviting failure. There were many attempts to do the deed, though, some highly regarded. The 1950s film might be good. This one does its very best to adhere to the style of the novel, while abridging it internally by having those scoundrels George and Harris, Moore and Palin respectively, forestall Jerome's tangential stories before they even begin. It's just as well, as the highly relaxed atmosphere might become soporific given a running time any longer than its sixty-five minutes.
Watching 'Three Men In A Boat' was just as relaxing as the journey down the Thames seemed to be, until the very rain-soaked climax. You could become almost entranced by the experience, except of course for Harris, and even become oblivious to George's blazer in a blissful reverie. Yes, it is like being in a reverie at times. In fact, it's difficult not to become rather meditative again, having watched it so recently (within the last two hours) for the first time. It's good to see Harris completely confusing a trailing crowd in Hampton Court Maze, and George strumming his banjo innocently. The only negative to pick out is that Tim Curry's Jerome seems a little incongruous or ill-fitting. In all fairness, that may be a retroactive effect after knowing of his efforts in other movies and television shows, or a side-effect of him playing the narrating character. At least the narration is partially explained by Jerome actually trying to narrate to George and Harris at several points, and being told to be quiet.
If you liked the novel, then you will probably like this show. It was wonderful, and only the better for knowing the source material. If you didn't like the novel, then the Quirky Muffin shall know. You will be dealt with. Ready the tin of pineapple, readers! (Oh, how could I have not mentioned the tin of pineapple? Classical comedy!)
O.
Adapting Jerome K Jerome's 'Three Men In A Boat' would seem to be a doomed exercise in many ways. It's legendary status as one of the great comedic written works stands in the way, inviting failure. There were many attempts to do the deed, though, some highly regarded. The 1950s film might be good. This one does its very best to adhere to the style of the novel, while abridging it internally by having those scoundrels George and Harris, Moore and Palin respectively, forestall Jerome's tangential stories before they even begin. It's just as well, as the highly relaxed atmosphere might become soporific given a running time any longer than its sixty-five minutes.
Watching 'Three Men In A Boat' was just as relaxing as the journey down the Thames seemed to be, until the very rain-soaked climax. You could become almost entranced by the experience, except of course for Harris, and even become oblivious to George's blazer in a blissful reverie. Yes, it is like being in a reverie at times. In fact, it's difficult not to become rather meditative again, having watched it so recently (within the last two hours) for the first time. It's good to see Harris completely confusing a trailing crowd in Hampton Court Maze, and George strumming his banjo innocently. The only negative to pick out is that Tim Curry's Jerome seems a little incongruous or ill-fitting. In all fairness, that may be a retroactive effect after knowing of his efforts in other movies and television shows, or a side-effect of him playing the narrating character. At least the narration is partially explained by Jerome actually trying to narrate to George and Harris at several points, and being told to be quiet.
If you liked the novel, then you will probably like this show. It was wonderful, and only the better for knowing the source material. If you didn't like the novel, then the Quirky Muffin shall know. You will be dealt with. Ready the tin of pineapple, readers! (Oh, how could I have not mentioned the tin of pineapple? Classical comedy!)
O.
Tuesday, 7 June 2016
The Day Before
The day before your birthday is always a tricky one. My gambit on other people's birthdays is to send them the message 'Happy Inconsequential Day' on the day before and ignore the birthday itself! Birthdays are tricky. Actually, the day before anything ceremonial or important is often very difficult.
We're being buried in politics right now, and it's not the nicest kind. Thinking about a birthday is almost preferable to referenda, primary elections, nationalism running rampant (but mostly imaginarily) and the horrible histories of past prime ministers being revisited in the present. Do you think there was ever a time when we debated things sensibly in this country, or was it always just tit for tat name calling of the worst order? At least it's not the United States, where there's a good chance that a raving lunatic could be elected president.
Yes, welcome to the wacky world as it stands. It's a relief to have a blog to write and stories to compose, and a fantasy land of books and movies to escape into. Never has 'Star Trek' and its message of positivity been needed so much!
In side notes, the Preston Sturges movie 'Unfaithfully Yours' was rather good, but not really rewatchable. Sturges always did interesting things, even when the overall result was a bit bizarre. Oh, Rex Harrison, you're always so close to being an excellent fit...
And now, let us return to the wacky world of blog writing, just in time to realise we've reached the end yet again. E-mail remains to be written, as do the next parts of 'Wordspace', 'The Glove', 'Diary Of A Laundry Robot' and 'The Ninja Of Health'. Two of those stories will take precedence, but which?
O.
We're being buried in politics right now, and it's not the nicest kind. Thinking about a birthday is almost preferable to referenda, primary elections, nationalism running rampant (but mostly imaginarily) and the horrible histories of past prime ministers being revisited in the present. Do you think there was ever a time when we debated things sensibly in this country, or was it always just tit for tat name calling of the worst order? At least it's not the United States, where there's a good chance that a raving lunatic could be elected president.
Yes, welcome to the wacky world as it stands. It's a relief to have a blog to write and stories to compose, and a fantasy land of books and movies to escape into. Never has 'Star Trek' and its message of positivity been needed so much!
In side notes, the Preston Sturges movie 'Unfaithfully Yours' was rather good, but not really rewatchable. Sturges always did interesting things, even when the overall result was a bit bizarre. Oh, Rex Harrison, you're always so close to being an excellent fit...
And now, let us return to the wacky world of blog writing, just in time to realise we've reached the end yet again. E-mail remains to be written, as do the next parts of 'Wordspace', 'The Glove', 'Diary Of A Laundry Robot' and 'The Ninja Of Health'. Two of those stories will take precedence, but which?
O.
Sunday, 5 June 2016
Story: 'Wordspace' Phase II, Part I
( Condensed Phase I , Part II )
Previously, in the first phase of 'Wordspace', the enigmatic word Mystery travelled to the Crossing Point, where all the dimensions of reality meet for tea and biscuits. The only permanent resident of the Point, the incoherent polyglot known only as the Silly Stone, explained how two visitors had made it to Mystery's own Wordspace, and then returned their companion, one of them, to his own universe. The second, a hostile to the core of their being, remained in the continuum in location unknown. Upon their return to their home, and their discovery of utter destruction, Mystery and his friends Club and Cloud were dispatched to the Zone of Meaningless Jargon to seek the help of the long exiled so-called Destructives, who might have been framed when they were jailed there for nefarious reasons many aeons ago. Now, with their willing assistance, they plan to neutralise the invader, and even think about what might happen if there is an 'after'.
* * *
The scouting force rolled out, and Mystery watched them go. His companion Club strode with them, and suddenly he was alone for the first time in days. Alone. No, he wasn't really alone, he thought, looking around him at the other words present, all familiar in their shiny curves, lines and tittles. Over there was Splendour, looking rather shocked by recent events, and sitting on a mound of semi-colons left over from some past mining effort. Seated high on the side of the Zone was Splash, a decent chap with a flair for the dramatic, and Yodel was preparing herself for some vocal exercises while guarding the portal.
"The portal..." murmured Mystery. What in the Wordspace were they going to do with that intruder if they did stop him? Could he or she, or it, be captured or would they have to do something unthinkable. Could any of them still manage to think the unthinkable? They only had one prison, and he was standing next to it. The portals in and out of the Zone of Meaningless Jargon were nowhere near big enough to admit the invader, and if they were forced to the extreme then what would happen if that giant was reborn? Would it begin anew here or back in its own home world?
Cloud descended and hovered next to him. Good old Cloud, always dependable and constant. "Would you like a look around?" Mystery asked gently.
"Yes." Cloud responded in her usual brief manner.
"Let's take a little trip."
Cloud took Mystery up into the heights once again, where he and she surveyed the area. The Zone was far larger than he had thought from his groundbound perspective, looming up in this remote portion of the Wordspace. The jargon glittered under the light given off by distant Sun. Fancy was taking a flight of her own below them, flapping her syllables frantically. Cloud then took off after the scouting party, who could still be seen, as could the dust cloud on the horizon. The party marched resolutely, with its aerial members roving ahead to get initial information. War was at the very head of the party.
The dust cloud was approaching, rapidly getting closer. Suddenly, the source of the activity became clear: It was a band of fellow survivors! A foreboding seized Mystery and he looked back at the Zone. Yes, it was as he had feared. The invader approached from the opposite direction. Cloud dove as she had never dived before. They had to get to the scouting party, or should they warn their comrades around the Zone?
To be continued...
Previously, in the first phase of 'Wordspace', the enigmatic word Mystery travelled to the Crossing Point, where all the dimensions of reality meet for tea and biscuits. The only permanent resident of the Point, the incoherent polyglot known only as the Silly Stone, explained how two visitors had made it to Mystery's own Wordspace, and then returned their companion, one of them, to his own universe. The second, a hostile to the core of their being, remained in the continuum in location unknown. Upon their return to their home, and their discovery of utter destruction, Mystery and his friends Club and Cloud were dispatched to the Zone of Meaningless Jargon to seek the help of the long exiled so-called Destructives, who might have been framed when they were jailed there for nefarious reasons many aeons ago. Now, with their willing assistance, they plan to neutralise the invader, and even think about what might happen if there is an 'after'.
* * *
The scouting force rolled out, and Mystery watched them go. His companion Club strode with them, and suddenly he was alone for the first time in days. Alone. No, he wasn't really alone, he thought, looking around him at the other words present, all familiar in their shiny curves, lines and tittles. Over there was Splendour, looking rather shocked by recent events, and sitting on a mound of semi-colons left over from some past mining effort. Seated high on the side of the Zone was Splash, a decent chap with a flair for the dramatic, and Yodel was preparing herself for some vocal exercises while guarding the portal.
"The portal..." murmured Mystery. What in the Wordspace were they going to do with that intruder if they did stop him? Could he or she, or it, be captured or would they have to do something unthinkable. Could any of them still manage to think the unthinkable? They only had one prison, and he was standing next to it. The portals in and out of the Zone of Meaningless Jargon were nowhere near big enough to admit the invader, and if they were forced to the extreme then what would happen if that giant was reborn? Would it begin anew here or back in its own home world?
Cloud descended and hovered next to him. Good old Cloud, always dependable and constant. "Would you like a look around?" Mystery asked gently.
"Yes." Cloud responded in her usual brief manner.
"Let's take a little trip."
Cloud took Mystery up into the heights once again, where he and she surveyed the area. The Zone was far larger than he had thought from his groundbound perspective, looming up in this remote portion of the Wordspace. The jargon glittered under the light given off by distant Sun. Fancy was taking a flight of her own below them, flapping her syllables frantically. Cloud then took off after the scouting party, who could still be seen, as could the dust cloud on the horizon. The party marched resolutely, with its aerial members roving ahead to get initial information. War was at the very head of the party.
The dust cloud was approaching, rapidly getting closer. Suddenly, the source of the activity became clear: It was a band of fellow survivors! A foreboding seized Mystery and he looked back at the Zone. Yes, it was as he had feared. The invader approached from the opposite direction. Cloud dove as she had never dived before. They had to get to the scouting party, or should they warn their comrades around the Zone?
To be continued...
Friday, 3 June 2016
More Platonic Solids? Change The Space-Time Continuum!
Let's go spelunking into the hole of words. It's dark down there, filled with unknown topics and ideas. Thankfully, politics is off the agenda, unless it's on something as silly as Team Ginger versus Team Mary Ann! (For the record, it's Ginger all the way, after a brief sojourn on the other side.) (See: 'Gilligan's Island')
Where shall we go this time? I had ideas this morning, before the ordeals of the day kicked in, including the preparations for the latest origami dodecahedron. Each one of those elaborate constructions requires twelve modules built from A4 coloured paper, set up in mated pairs. It normally takes an hour or two to prepare the modules for each student.
We could talk about the Platonic Solids, actually, those five regular and convex (which means they have flat faces instead of spikes) solids. There are only five regular such polyhedra, if you can imagine that. They are the tetrahedron, cube, octahedron, dodecahedron and icosahedron. There can be no more. Out of all the possible three-dimensional solids there are only five which can have identical faces, and where each face has equal lengths and angles. Five.
Are there any more such solids out there in the universe? Are any more possible? What if we changed the laws of the universe? Yes... if we changed the space-time continuum then more might be possible, but then we could also do all kinds of other things...
O.
Where shall we go this time? I had ideas this morning, before the ordeals of the day kicked in, including the preparations for the latest origami dodecahedron. Each one of those elaborate constructions requires twelve modules built from A4 coloured paper, set up in mated pairs. It normally takes an hour or two to prepare the modules for each student.
We could talk about the Platonic Solids, actually, those five regular and convex (which means they have flat faces instead of spikes) solids. There are only five regular such polyhedra, if you can imagine that. They are the tetrahedron, cube, octahedron, dodecahedron and icosahedron. There can be no more. Out of all the possible three-dimensional solids there are only five which can have identical faces, and where each face has equal lengths and angles. Five.
Are there any more such solids out there in the universe? Are any more possible? What if we changed the laws of the universe? Yes... if we changed the space-time continuum then more might be possible, but then we could also do all kinds of other things...
O.
Wednesday, 1 June 2016
Story: The Ninja of Health, X
( Part IX , XI )
The Woman braced herself and communed with the Pattern awhile. Nothing unusual occurred, except for a bit more dust sparkling in the sunbeams than usual. The Invader had gone, to a destination unknown, for now.
The Pattern yielded no new insight, but the communing did calm the Woman's mind. After, she continued with the cleaning up of the invisible debris with her companion, who had yet to find time to relax properly.
"Okay, you, it's your turn. I'm not going to go visit the Oracle with you in an unstable state. You must be at least a little rattled." She pointed imperiously. "Vamoose."
"Yes, ma'am." Returned the Man semi-mockingly. "I suppose that we can't refrain forever." He settled down, and opened his mind the universe, while she took up a custodial role. Nothing seemed to happen, and she relaxed a little.
Time passed, and the last of the shattered tubes seemed to have been cleared away. The Woman made a phone call to someone highly relevant, and had some green tea ready when the Man opened his eyes. Thankfully, in her eyes, he seemed a lot less edgy than he had been, probably in reaction to their territory being compromised.
"I've called him. I said we would be there in an hour or so." She told him.
"Was he surprised?"
"Actually, no. He was already making some pizza, apparently from the 'finest nutritious ingredients'."
The man smiled, a little grimly. "Oh, please, I hope that he's not going to put on sardines again!" The two looked at each other, obviously still reluctant to say too much out loud in case the presence was closer than they thought. "I'll get the car out."
Two sandwiches later, the Man and the Woman trundled out into the early evening in a quaint little car, and set off the lair of the Oracle, which was also known by the name 'Crane and Nelson, Maritime Supplies' in nearby Haagenport.
More will follow...
The Woman braced herself and communed with the Pattern awhile. Nothing unusual occurred, except for a bit more dust sparkling in the sunbeams than usual. The Invader had gone, to a destination unknown, for now.
The Pattern yielded no new insight, but the communing did calm the Woman's mind. After, she continued with the cleaning up of the invisible debris with her companion, who had yet to find time to relax properly.
"Okay, you, it's your turn. I'm not going to go visit the Oracle with you in an unstable state. You must be at least a little rattled." She pointed imperiously. "Vamoose."
"Yes, ma'am." Returned the Man semi-mockingly. "I suppose that we can't refrain forever." He settled down, and opened his mind the universe, while she took up a custodial role. Nothing seemed to happen, and she relaxed a little.
Time passed, and the last of the shattered tubes seemed to have been cleared away. The Woman made a phone call to someone highly relevant, and had some green tea ready when the Man opened his eyes. Thankfully, in her eyes, he seemed a lot less edgy than he had been, probably in reaction to their territory being compromised.
"I've called him. I said we would be there in an hour or so." She told him.
"Was he surprised?"
"Actually, no. He was already making some pizza, apparently from the 'finest nutritious ingredients'."
The man smiled, a little grimly. "Oh, please, I hope that he's not going to put on sardines again!" The two looked at each other, obviously still reluctant to say too much out loud in case the presence was closer than they thought. "I'll get the car out."
Two sandwiches later, the Man and the Woman trundled out into the early evening in a quaint little car, and set off the lair of the Oracle, which was also known by the name 'Crane and Nelson, Maritime Supplies' in nearby Haagenport.
More will follow...
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