( Part XI , XIII )
The interior or Crane and Nelson's was what you might expect from a maritime store. There were dinghies, ropes, sails, compasses, items so specialised that they will remain nameless, and a marvelous antique ship's wheel stood proudly amongst other valuables in the expensive collectors' area of the store. The Man walked over to it, and held on to it like a dear friend. "Would you ever actually sell this, if someone came up with the extortionate price?" He asked the Oracle.
"Two people offer to buy it every week, usually. I always tell them it's been reserved by someone else. People who come back look at me quizzically and ask again. The wheel remains here." The seer of things to come patted the wheel affectionately. "You can't see the direction of the future if you don't know your own direction." Then, he led them into the back area of the store, and up some steps.
Beyond a perfectly plain white wooden door, lay the Oracle's Room of Seeing. It was a perfectly normal looking room, in fact, except for a simple collapsible cards table, and a few books on fishing on the single bookcase. There were three foldable chairs leaning against one wall, and the Oracle pulled one off for himself.
"Don't you want to know why we've come?" Asked the Woman.
"No, it will only complicate what I have to do. I know already that there has been an incursion from elsewhere, and that you have been contacted. That is more than enough context."
"You seem to have changed your method a little..." Noted the Man, who was beyond curious. No water pool this time, and not even a chalk pile!"
"I've been experimenting with weaves, actually. He held up a small woven multicoloured tablecloth and threw it on the table haphazardly. Then, seated on the little folding chair, he closed his eyes and put his hands on the tablecloth. The two visitors sat down as well and watched, confused. It all became a lot clearer when the weave began to change in front of their eyes. Colours moved back and forth, crossed over, jumbled, and mixed until finally a confused woven picture was visible on the cloth, as complete as it could be under the circumstances.
"What could it possibly mean?" Wondered the Woman.
The Oracle didn't reply. He was fast asleep.
More? Of course there will be more!
Monday, 11 July 2016
Saturday, 9 July 2016
Needle And Thread
The life of an erratic and resigned bachelor holds many extra chores, not the least of which is that you have to incorporate many many more talents within yourself to get things done. There is no backup in the usual sense, so everything broken and everything ripped ends up in the hands of... yourself! It doesn't matter how slow you might be with a needle, nor how many hours a simple job might last! Pyjamas must be fixed, with gusto, and all while endless episodes flash by on the nearby television intended to stop a total nervous breakdown.
In past eras, a history with needlework would have been something for a red blooded man to keep secret, it being not at all manly in the conventional old way of thinking. There is a history, though. You see, if you didn't feel confident doing woodwork or metalwork in design and technology at school, there weren't that many options left. Ultimately, needlework would be the safest option, despite the multitude of sharp pointy metal things. Somewhere around here, a very underwhelming cloth wallet-like object might still lurk. Oh, the horror.
In a week of minimal workload, you end up doing all the chores that have been piling up forever. Fixed pyjamas? Check. Covers for those archive DVDs filled with old files and media? Yup. Typing up of stories in LaTeX? Affirmative! It all gets done, and takes up far too much time. Why on Earth should tying knots in cotton thread be so difficult? Why? Is it a deliberate ploy? Is it related to a knot-tying deficiency, which mainly manifests in having to repeatedly re-tie shoelaces with unprecedented frequency? Is it a conspiracy foisted upon us by the alien inventors of polyester, even now plotting their next outrage from their base on the dark side of the Moon?
It's useful to be able to handle a needle. Men of the world, be not afraid to admit your skills! Skills are manly! Even sponge juggling and pasta making! Unite unite!
Here ends the silliness, except to make a recommendation for the Old Time Radio newbies out there: Check out 'Escape!'. Based on a few episodes, it was amazingly good!
O.
In past eras, a history with needlework would have been something for a red blooded man to keep secret, it being not at all manly in the conventional old way of thinking. There is a history, though. You see, if you didn't feel confident doing woodwork or metalwork in design and technology at school, there weren't that many options left. Ultimately, needlework would be the safest option, despite the multitude of sharp pointy metal things. Somewhere around here, a very underwhelming cloth wallet-like object might still lurk. Oh, the horror.
In a week of minimal workload, you end up doing all the chores that have been piling up forever. Fixed pyjamas? Check. Covers for those archive DVDs filled with old files and media? Yup. Typing up of stories in LaTeX? Affirmative! It all gets done, and takes up far too much time. Why on Earth should tying knots in cotton thread be so difficult? Why? Is it a deliberate ploy? Is it related to a knot-tying deficiency, which mainly manifests in having to repeatedly re-tie shoelaces with unprecedented frequency? Is it a conspiracy foisted upon us by the alien inventors of polyester, even now plotting their next outrage from their base on the dark side of the Moon?
It's useful to be able to handle a needle. Men of the world, be not afraid to admit your skills! Skills are manly! Even sponge juggling and pasta making! Unite unite!
Here ends the silliness, except to make a recommendation for the Old Time Radio newbies out there: Check out 'Escape!'. Based on a few episodes, it was amazingly good!
O.
Thursday, 7 July 2016
Book and Film: 'The Thin Man' (both 1934), novel by Dashiell Hammett
It's a great book, and a good film. It would be a great film too, but the stars enter just a little too late, and as a result the opening is a bit underwhelming. What are we talking about? What? You didn't read the title? Shame on you, gentle readers of the Quirky Muffin! It's 'The Thin Man' of course! Although the book came out in 1934, this classic story, the last full length novel written by the master Dashiell Hammett, was originally serialised in 1933 so it does predate the movie significantly. The written and screen versions didn't just appear one day, simultaneously, in a basket labelled 'utter class'.
To begin with the novel, the more complex version of the story, we see a fascinating diversion of Hammett's usual style to something closer to a traditional murder mystery, and away from the more familiar stories you might expect from the ersatz originator of the hard-boiled detective story. Dashiell Hammett could write like no other, though, and the story is permeated by his distinctive style. Instead of a tale of the anonymous 'Continental Op' detective, or cynical private eye Sam Spade, or even ambiguous union-man/gangster Ned Beaumont, we get the gleefully retired (due to marriage) private eye Nick Charles and his wife Nora, heir to a magnificent amount of money. The concept of a happy, albeit apparently constantly sozzled, detective is quite a new one. The story is a little labyrinthine, but is essentially a murder case mixed with a massive shaggy dog story, and more smart dialogue than you would find in a dozen novels by any other writer. It begins, and then rolls irresistibly to its conclusion, which will not be spoiled here.
The movie version is a lot simpler than the original prose, and has a lot of the discussions and related events that are at the core of the story instead shoved into what is effectively a prologue, before the advent of Nick and Nora Charles, the heroes and impossibly charming protagonists. It seems utterly unbelievable now that the divine Myrna Loy and impeccable William Powell would have been unknown to me before these 'Thin Man' movies, and it seems even ridiculous that any actress would ever even compare to that former legend. She is the epitome of a female movie star, and more shall not be said. Once Loy and Powell show up, with their indomitable pooch sidekick, the film catches fire. Yes, it may be a simpler version of the story, with a whole subplot excised completely, but the casting allows a wonderful actor-based equivalent to the hard-boiled prose of the written word. The film also manages to conceal the central novelty of the story far more effectively than the story by not elaborating around it quite so much, and introduces the old staple of bringing all the suspects together for the denouement. At least, I assume it was an old staple. In 1934, movies were still comparatively new, after all. In novels, many tropes and clichés had been established, but what about in the movies? I bet they didn't drag in all the suspects under police coercion, at least, for a sit down dinner?
The novel is excellent, and should be read by everyone. The film is great, but you should check your tolerance for old black and white movies first. I loved it, but some people might balk at the lack of colour and dumb action sequences. Of course, there is always the mighty attraction of Astar the dog to drag in the more reluctant people, those philistines who care not for the grace of Loy or the charisma of Powell. Good grief, William Powell could deliver a line like no other. He was supposedly the model for Don Adams' delivery as Max in 'Get Smart' and Inspector Gadget, although the evidence isn't conclusive. Again, how could this writer be unaware of these two beforehand?
'The Thin Man', a classic in prose, and a wonder on the screen. In fact, it was such a wonder that it spawned five more movies in a series that spanned more than ten years, which is a testament to a couple that some would call one of the best screen romances in all of film. Those people wouldn't be wrong.
O.
To begin with the novel, the more complex version of the story, we see a fascinating diversion of Hammett's usual style to something closer to a traditional murder mystery, and away from the more familiar stories you might expect from the ersatz originator of the hard-boiled detective story. Dashiell Hammett could write like no other, though, and the story is permeated by his distinctive style. Instead of a tale of the anonymous 'Continental Op' detective, or cynical private eye Sam Spade, or even ambiguous union-man/gangster Ned Beaumont, we get the gleefully retired (due to marriage) private eye Nick Charles and his wife Nora, heir to a magnificent amount of money. The concept of a happy, albeit apparently constantly sozzled, detective is quite a new one. The story is a little labyrinthine, but is essentially a murder case mixed with a massive shaggy dog story, and more smart dialogue than you would find in a dozen novels by any other writer. It begins, and then rolls irresistibly to its conclusion, which will not be spoiled here.
The movie version is a lot simpler than the original prose, and has a lot of the discussions and related events that are at the core of the story instead shoved into what is effectively a prologue, before the advent of Nick and Nora Charles, the heroes and impossibly charming protagonists. It seems utterly unbelievable now that the divine Myrna Loy and impeccable William Powell would have been unknown to me before these 'Thin Man' movies, and it seems even ridiculous that any actress would ever even compare to that former legend. She is the epitome of a female movie star, and more shall not be said. Once Loy and Powell show up, with their indomitable pooch sidekick, the film catches fire. Yes, it may be a simpler version of the story, with a whole subplot excised completely, but the casting allows a wonderful actor-based equivalent to the hard-boiled prose of the written word. The film also manages to conceal the central novelty of the story far more effectively than the story by not elaborating around it quite so much, and introduces the old staple of bringing all the suspects together for the denouement. At least, I assume it was an old staple. In 1934, movies were still comparatively new, after all. In novels, many tropes and clichés had been established, but what about in the movies? I bet they didn't drag in all the suspects under police coercion, at least, for a sit down dinner?
The novel is excellent, and should be read by everyone. The film is great, but you should check your tolerance for old black and white movies first. I loved it, but some people might balk at the lack of colour and dumb action sequences. Of course, there is always the mighty attraction of Astar the dog to drag in the more reluctant people, those philistines who care not for the grace of Loy or the charisma of Powell. Good grief, William Powell could deliver a line like no other. He was supposedly the model for Don Adams' delivery as Max in 'Get Smart' and Inspector Gadget, although the evidence isn't conclusive. Again, how could this writer be unaware of these two beforehand?
'The Thin Man', a classic in prose, and a wonder on the screen. In fact, it was such a wonder that it spawned five more movies in a series that spanned more than ten years, which is a testament to a couple that some would call one of the best screen romances in all of film. Those people wouldn't be wrong.
O.
Tuesday, 5 July 2016
Really? A Kraken?
Once again, it's time to release the kraken that is the Quirky Muffin and see what ensues. Oh, the kraken, the kraken! (Or even, 'The plankton! The plankton!') The pen and paper has been out in force today, proving itself to be once again the most tractable medium for writing and rewriting stories. Typing is all very well if you already know what's planned or are extemporising freely, but for true thoughtfulness there is no substitute for ink and good quality paper. Ah, the joys of scribbling while lying prostrate upon the ground. There's nothing like it! It might even be a good story, too, which would be nice.
'Voyage to the Bottom of the Sea' is playing once again to one side, one of the default accompaniments to frenzied typing. It's a pretty good one, too, with the debut of the giant whale! My, they would get some extra mileage out of that giant whale in future episodes! I might have to write this one up, though. It's a curious series. Did they ever go up against a kraken, though, which upon research is not at all what I thought it would be. A kraken is an infamous mythical sea monster of Scandinavia; a gigantic squid, octopus, whale or crab that attacked ocean vessels. Yes, a Scandinavian sea monster, and not Mediterranean! For some reason, it resonanted with Greek mythology in this writer's mind... I think they went up against a giant squid at some point, but never a monumental crab.
One exchange over the weekend has led to some introspection: Obsession can be a terrible thing, as can fear. The two walk hand in hand often. Could it be that this sojourn in the valleys is not an exercise in seeking a vocation, but really one in avoiding responsibility and progress? It could be, couldn't it? This introspection will have to be revisited away from these pages, but it's a lot more fun to be a private tutor than to work on any of the other jobs previously trudged through. This would be a better life, if practical. Soon, I'll be reading 'Five Children And It' and 'The Railway Children' for the first time, supposedly to assess their suitability for my littler students. Oh, such excuses! It's such fun to expose young readers to new works. Of course, you have to build them up carefully to 'Twenty Thousand Leagues Under The Sea', but they'll get there eventually. The kraken must be faced, after all, and enjoyed.
Enough incoherent and senseless gibberish for today. Consider the kraken reined in once again.
O.
'Voyage to the Bottom of the Sea' is playing once again to one side, one of the default accompaniments to frenzied typing. It's a pretty good one, too, with the debut of the giant whale! My, they would get some extra mileage out of that giant whale in future episodes! I might have to write this one up, though. It's a curious series. Did they ever go up against a kraken, though, which upon research is not at all what I thought it would be. A kraken is an infamous mythical sea monster of Scandinavia; a gigantic squid, octopus, whale or crab that attacked ocean vessels. Yes, a Scandinavian sea monster, and not Mediterranean! For some reason, it resonanted with Greek mythology in this writer's mind... I think they went up against a giant squid at some point, but never a monumental crab.
One exchange over the weekend has led to some introspection: Obsession can be a terrible thing, as can fear. The two walk hand in hand often. Could it be that this sojourn in the valleys is not an exercise in seeking a vocation, but really one in avoiding responsibility and progress? It could be, couldn't it? This introspection will have to be revisited away from these pages, but it's a lot more fun to be a private tutor than to work on any of the other jobs previously trudged through. This would be a better life, if practical. Soon, I'll be reading 'Five Children And It' and 'The Railway Children' for the first time, supposedly to assess their suitability for my littler students. Oh, such excuses! It's such fun to expose young readers to new works. Of course, you have to build them up carefully to 'Twenty Thousand Leagues Under The Sea', but they'll get there eventually. The kraken must be faced, after all, and enjoyed.
Enough incoherent and senseless gibberish for today. Consider the kraken reined in once again.
O.
Sunday, 3 July 2016
Story: The Glove, XIII
( Part XII , XIV )
The shot rang out, and then another. And another. Gunshots were practically unheard of on the moon of Ganymede, apart from the shooting events at the Highland Games, the annual moon-wide sports championships. Steffan had gotten used to gunshots while competing for his precinct in the modern caber toss and tennis champsionships, but that had been two years before. A moment of stunned stillness quickly segued into a duck for cover behind a tree. Where had the shot originated?
Zing.
The Ganymedian tree lost a bit of bark as Steffan huddled behind it. Then there was silence. There was to be no fooling the young piper, though, and he waited a full ten minutes before waving a white handkerchief outside the hidden zone behind the trunk. Had that shot been aimed at him, or had coincidence played its normal grim and merry part? Gunshots didn't fit into his preferred lifestyle. Perhaps some running away was in order? Just as he was preparing to make a break for it, keeping the trunk at his back, a squad of armed police appeared, utterly incongruous in both their style and appearance. Armed police were another unheard of happenstance, and he gaped.
"You, get back behind the vehicle!" Bellowed a probable high ranker, and Steffan dutifully obeyed. The vehicle was completely unmarked. Not an insignia in sight. In fact, the police didn't have any markings either. They just had the air of police officers. He pushed back into the trees a little, in the general direction of the tea shop. Some cakes seemed in order. Or scones, where the onligatory argument about pronunciation would be a blessed relief.
The scanner was waved in disgust, and knocked against a tree in the time honoured fashion as Steffan disappeared. Minutes later he was ensconced, and en-sconed, at Alison's Tea Rooms. There was nothing like tea and scones to calm someone down after a traumatic event. Alison was a nice lady, thoroughly at home in her environment, and seemingly perpetually busy with preparing things for the tourists visiting the old scenic town. A second person emerged from the back room and consulted her for a moment, before boldly advancing and sitting opposite our protagonist. She looked relieved.
"Thank Troos that you're okay! You are okay, aren't you?" She looked him over. "Aye, you seem fine." A freckled frown relaxed. "We've never wanted to see anyone hurt."
Being caught with a mouthful of scone had never been so inconvenient. Steffan's response would have to wait.
To be continued...
The shot rang out, and then another. And another. Gunshots were practically unheard of on the moon of Ganymede, apart from the shooting events at the Highland Games, the annual moon-wide sports championships. Steffan had gotten used to gunshots while competing for his precinct in the modern caber toss and tennis champsionships, but that had been two years before. A moment of stunned stillness quickly segued into a duck for cover behind a tree. Where had the shot originated?
Zing.
The Ganymedian tree lost a bit of bark as Steffan huddled behind it. Then there was silence. There was to be no fooling the young piper, though, and he waited a full ten minutes before waving a white handkerchief outside the hidden zone behind the trunk. Had that shot been aimed at him, or had coincidence played its normal grim and merry part? Gunshots didn't fit into his preferred lifestyle. Perhaps some running away was in order? Just as he was preparing to make a break for it, keeping the trunk at his back, a squad of armed police appeared, utterly incongruous in both their style and appearance. Armed police were another unheard of happenstance, and he gaped.
"You, get back behind the vehicle!" Bellowed a probable high ranker, and Steffan dutifully obeyed. The vehicle was completely unmarked. Not an insignia in sight. In fact, the police didn't have any markings either. They just had the air of police officers. He pushed back into the trees a little, in the general direction of the tea shop. Some cakes seemed in order. Or scones, where the onligatory argument about pronunciation would be a blessed relief.
The scanner was waved in disgust, and knocked against a tree in the time honoured fashion as Steffan disappeared. Minutes later he was ensconced, and en-sconed, at Alison's Tea Rooms. There was nothing like tea and scones to calm someone down after a traumatic event. Alison was a nice lady, thoroughly at home in her environment, and seemingly perpetually busy with preparing things for the tourists visiting the old scenic town. A second person emerged from the back room and consulted her for a moment, before boldly advancing and sitting opposite our protagonist. She looked relieved.
"Thank Troos that you're okay! You are okay, aren't you?" She looked him over. "Aye, you seem fine." A freckled frown relaxed. "We've never wanted to see anyone hurt."
Being caught with a mouthful of scone had never been so inconvenient. Steffan's response would have to wait.
To be continued...
Friday, 1 July 2016
Exhaustion And The Speed Of Light
Oh, this is far too tired an evening in which to write a post, but a post shall be written nonetheless. About what? I have no idea. A week of confused timekeeping and sleep disruption certainly does catch up with a person! The current theory is that the cocoa was to blame, in combination with a nervous reaction to the accursed referendum. Yes, all those months of agonising and second guessing certainly have resulted in a small pit of exhaustion. Politics really shouldn't be taken so seriously. It's not as if the blokes in charge think about it that much!
Apart from nervous exhaustion, the first episode of 'The Time Tunnel' was viewed this week, and it was very interesting, very much a version zero of 'Quantum Leap'. Time was also spent in re-reading 'The Thin Man', which is still a magnificently readable masterpiece from Dashiell Hammett, (Note: Learn definitively how to spell Dashiell Hammett without looking it up.) and enquiries were made into doing just a little bit more with English and Spanish...
Life is like juggling. You pick up a ball and throw it, and then hope to not hit it with the other balls that you have to throw and catch at almost the same time. In other words, it's chaotic, and all you can do is enjoy the unpredictability, assuming you're awake enough to be more than just vaguely concerned by it all. Actually, juggling is fun, except for the massive amounts of work involved in getting good at it. In more than a year of regular practice, I never could get three balls going for more than a minute... and still can't! Perhaps some people just don't have the coordination? It was fun to try, though, and continue to try, and to wonder at the other people at JuggleSoc picking it up so effortlessly.
A shortened Quirky Muffin is now concluded, so that sleeping can commence. Enjoy your times in slumber land, oh illusive readers of this blog, and be careful out there. Mwahahaahahhaah.
O.
Apart from nervous exhaustion, the first episode of 'The Time Tunnel' was viewed this week, and it was very interesting, very much a version zero of 'Quantum Leap'. Time was also spent in re-reading 'The Thin Man', which is still a magnificently readable masterpiece from Dashiell Hammett, (Note: Learn definitively how to spell Dashiell Hammett without looking it up.) and enquiries were made into doing just a little bit more with English and Spanish...
Life is like juggling. You pick up a ball and throw it, and then hope to not hit it with the other balls that you have to throw and catch at almost the same time. In other words, it's chaotic, and all you can do is enjoy the unpredictability, assuming you're awake enough to be more than just vaguely concerned by it all. Actually, juggling is fun, except for the massive amounts of work involved in getting good at it. In more than a year of regular practice, I never could get three balls going for more than a minute... and still can't! Perhaps some people just don't have the coordination? It was fun to try, though, and continue to try, and to wonder at the other people at JuggleSoc picking it up so effortlessly.
A shortened Quirky Muffin is now concluded, so that sleeping can commence. Enjoy your times in slumber land, oh illusive readers of this blog, and be careful out there. Mwahahaahahhaah.
O.
Wednesday, 29 June 2016
Television: 'Press Gang: A Night In' (1989) (Episode 1x05)
I wrote about the series 'Press Gang' a long time ago, and it all still stands. It's a witty and intelligent show, even when shown twenty five years later and to a far different audience. Great writing from Steven Moffat (look up his stellar list of credits), and performances from the cast and crew combined to produce a show that transcended its original place in the scheme of things for two brilliant seasons, and three further slightly strained ones.
'A Night Out' is notable for the ever deceptive Colin and his pink rabbit suit, the star-crossed Lynda and Spike beginning to understand each other, the complete absence of a news-related story or guest actors, and the fact that the usually format is completely dispensed with in favour of an evening in the office, chatting. If this were a spinoff 'Star Trek' series, this would definitely be a 'bottle episode', but can a show only on its fifth episode actually have a low-budget episode? Even if it's nominally a kids' show?
There's something about bottle episodes that I love, wherever they appear. They're usually as close as you ever get to theatre on screen, and fizz in a totally different way. Here, we get a restricted cast of five characters for the majority of the episode: Lynda Day, editor of the junior newspaper, in denial at being freshly dumped; Spike Thompson, wisecracking reporter, the universal foil, vulnerable in displaying his cooking talent; Kenny Phillips, the all round good guy, clueless as to recent events; Tiddler, the junior feature editor and pusher of the Spike/Lynda combination; and Colin Matthews, hideous entrepreneurial wannabe trapped in a pink rabbit suit on the edge of a nervous breakdown. It's really just a normal evening at the Junior Gazette, complete with Chinese food.
Bottle episodes are episodes that take place in one location, usually with few to none guest stars, and centre almost entirely on a singular character or relationship arc. In this case, we get a retooling of the two perhaps lead characters, Spike and Lynda, and a fleshing out of their natures beyond their primitive functions as established so far. Why exactly do they act the way they do, and why so much more with each other? We also get more of the psychology of Colin, the aspiring corporate bandit, but he will be expanded further later on...
Yes, a bottle episode, and a fantastic one at that. It's still a kids' show, but it pushes the margins like no other show ever did, and with great wittiness. There has only ever been one Steven Moffat, and this is where he began.
O.
'A Night Out' is notable for the ever deceptive Colin and his pink rabbit suit, the star-crossed Lynda and Spike beginning to understand each other, the complete absence of a news-related story or guest actors, and the fact that the usually format is completely dispensed with in favour of an evening in the office, chatting. If this were a spinoff 'Star Trek' series, this would definitely be a 'bottle episode', but can a show only on its fifth episode actually have a low-budget episode? Even if it's nominally a kids' show?
There's something about bottle episodes that I love, wherever they appear. They're usually as close as you ever get to theatre on screen, and fizz in a totally different way. Here, we get a restricted cast of five characters for the majority of the episode: Lynda Day, editor of the junior newspaper, in denial at being freshly dumped; Spike Thompson, wisecracking reporter, the universal foil, vulnerable in displaying his cooking talent; Kenny Phillips, the all round good guy, clueless as to recent events; Tiddler, the junior feature editor and pusher of the Spike/Lynda combination; and Colin Matthews, hideous entrepreneurial wannabe trapped in a pink rabbit suit on the edge of a nervous breakdown. It's really just a normal evening at the Junior Gazette, complete with Chinese food.
Bottle episodes are episodes that take place in one location, usually with few to none guest stars, and centre almost entirely on a singular character or relationship arc. In this case, we get a retooling of the two perhaps lead characters, Spike and Lynda, and a fleshing out of their natures beyond their primitive functions as established so far. Why exactly do they act the way they do, and why so much more with each other? We also get more of the psychology of Colin, the aspiring corporate bandit, but he will be expanded further later on...
Yes, a bottle episode, and a fantastic one at that. It's still a kids' show, but it pushes the margins like no other show ever did, and with great wittiness. There has only ever been one Steven Moffat, and this is where he began.
O.
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