It's nice to get out of your groove and play a few games from time to time. Yes, there are vital projects, but we have to be able to relax, right?
This time, it was 'Small World', a home brewed version of 'Fake Artist In New York' and some observation of 'King of Tokyo'. Three radically different games for three different locations. 'Small World' was more tricky to play than I remembered from the last playing, but good, and 'King Of Tokyo' was excellent as always. 'Fake Artist' was a nice surprise, however, that everyone easily 'got'. It's a shoe-in for the next students' games afternoon, which is supposed to be coming soon. It involves drawing, so it's a natural!
'Fake Artist' is a simple implementation of the 'hidden traitor' breed of social deduction games, which are typically far too stressful to be fun. This one, however, is actually very nice, mainly because it ditches most of the arguments and interrogations in favour of... drawing! Hurrah! It's a hidden fraud tricky pictionary game! Nyahahahahha! Much better than 'The Resistance' or 'Spyfall' might be for more sensitive people.
Each round, one player takes the role of question master and declares a category. They then write their chosen word on some cards, one for each player, excepting one card which has an 'X' written on it. The person who gets the 'X' card is the fake artist, who has to get by without anyone suspecting. Everyone gets to make a mark on the paper in turn with their unique colour, without giving any hints as to the real subject of the drawing. At the end, if the fake artist evades suspicion, or if he's spotted but guesses the word anyway, the fake artist and question master win two points each. If the fake artist isn't spotted, or if he is spotted but can't work out what was being drawn, then the real artists get one point each. The target is five points, but that can be changed easily. That's it. It's actually very good, and light. It's the epitome of drawing games with a twist, acting as a nice complement to 'Pictionary' perhaps.
Good. Relaxation? Ha! Oh, and Project Wood has completed assembly. Only a few rounds of painting to go now.
O.
Saturday, 14 October 2017
Thursday, 12 October 2017
Compartmentalisation
It seems as if my life, and perhaps this is normal and I just don't know it, is divided up into the discrete bubbles, and that no-one crosses over from bubble to bubble. Period A had one set of friends, period B had another, and that they go away when the bubble bursts. Is that normal, after all? It doesn't seem so. Perhaps it's a sign of inflexibility that all these different spheres have been kept so discrete, or perhaps it's a sign of a deeply buried reluctance or complete bewilderment when considering how to push different parts of life together and not go mad in the process?
Compartmentalisation is a psychological phenomenon where we, and this is mostly being conjectured on the spot, break our sets of people and experiences into sets so that we can handle them all at the same without going completely mad from holding all the variables of our entire lives in our minds at the same time? Does that make sense?
We all compartmentalise, but do we all get a bit confused when the work sphere crosses the family sphere or either crosses the friend space? Is it just me? Isn't there always squeamishness? Is it something to be dealt with, or something to be cherished? Are these defined spheres good for us, preserving different senses of identity? It seems natural to try to keep work as far away from your personal life, doesn't it?
As a private tutor, the dividing line between work and personal life is far less rigidly defined. It's interesting, and will require more thought as to whether that's a healthy thing or not. Do we need all these compartments, after all?
O.
Compartmentalisation is a psychological phenomenon where we, and this is mostly being conjectured on the spot, break our sets of people and experiences into sets so that we can handle them all at the same without going completely mad from holding all the variables of our entire lives in our minds at the same time? Does that make sense?
We all compartmentalise, but do we all get a bit confused when the work sphere crosses the family sphere or either crosses the friend space? Is it just me? Isn't there always squeamishness? Is it something to be dealt with, or something to be cherished? Are these defined spheres good for us, preserving different senses of identity? It seems natural to try to keep work as far away from your personal life, doesn't it?
As a private tutor, the dividing line between work and personal life is far less rigidly defined. It's interesting, and will require more thought as to whether that's a healthy thing or not. Do we need all these compartments, after all?
O.
Tuesday, 10 October 2017
Movie: 'The Big Year' (2011)
It's a curious world that we live in, where a charming little movie such as 'The Big Year' can be such a dramatic box office flop. What went wrong? Did it get marketed badly? Did people think that a Steve Martin/Jack Black/Owen Wilson movie would be a riotous comedy instead of a comedy drama with indie undertones? That was probably the case. Nothing else really makes sense. The world is strange.
'The Big Year' (TBY) is based on the similarly titled non-fiction book by Mark Obmascik, chronicling the experiences of three aspiring record breaking birders, out to spot the most birds in a calendar year in the United States and Canada. In fact, the movie is based on the book very closely, changing only the names and adding one melodramatic subplot to the arc of Wilson's character Bostick, the reigning champion birder. Actually, that added subplot is the most infuriating part of the movie, it being the most melodramatic and signposted thread to be found. It's actually vexing.
As mentioned earlier, TBY is a charming comedy drama, showcasing Jack Black and Steve Martin at their most approachable, and Owen Wilson at his most charming. It takes the real world phenomenon of birding, during a peak spotting year, and turns it into a very enjoyable romp with a nicely studded cast. We get Joel McHale in a not particularly rewarding small role, Rashida Jones being as bright and beautiful as she ever has been, the great and underrated Brian Dennehy brilliantly cast as Black's father, and Dianne Wiest doing her usual role as the lovable mother. They all pale against the backdrop of all the beautiful birds, though, which are what make this movie special. Lots and lots of birds!
When the three leads are off on their birding adventures, it's a very good romp. (Birds!) When each of them are having their character arcs, it jumps up and down a little. Wilson plays the obsessed Bostick, who is neglecting his baby-crazy wife, and who has already ruined one marriage through his birding. This subplot is the weak point of the film. Martin plays Stu, a retiring CEO, who keeps being pulled back into action at his business, and who is coming to terms with his age and future. Black plays Brad, a worker bee, who is pulling off his Big Year and job at the same time, while trying to appease his parents and credit card companies at the same time. Most of it works very well. Nothing is super excellent, but it is nice and moves along pretty quickly. If only the Bostick arc could have been done in shorthand more. It's incredibly obvious what's going to happen...
There are nice comedic beats from a subdued Jack Black, some heartfelt moments from Steve Martin, and the usual Owen Wilson excellence. This gets a good recommendation, but gets promoted closer to greatness by all the birds. Huzzah! Not excellent, but very good.
O.
'The Big Year' (TBY) is based on the similarly titled non-fiction book by Mark Obmascik, chronicling the experiences of three aspiring record breaking birders, out to spot the most birds in a calendar year in the United States and Canada. In fact, the movie is based on the book very closely, changing only the names and adding one melodramatic subplot to the arc of Wilson's character Bostick, the reigning champion birder. Actually, that added subplot is the most infuriating part of the movie, it being the most melodramatic and signposted thread to be found. It's actually vexing.
As mentioned earlier, TBY is a charming comedy drama, showcasing Jack Black and Steve Martin at their most approachable, and Owen Wilson at his most charming. It takes the real world phenomenon of birding, during a peak spotting year, and turns it into a very enjoyable romp with a nicely studded cast. We get Joel McHale in a not particularly rewarding small role, Rashida Jones being as bright and beautiful as she ever has been, the great and underrated Brian Dennehy brilliantly cast as Black's father, and Dianne Wiest doing her usual role as the lovable mother. They all pale against the backdrop of all the beautiful birds, though, which are what make this movie special. Lots and lots of birds!
When the three leads are off on their birding adventures, it's a very good romp. (Birds!) When each of them are having their character arcs, it jumps up and down a little. Wilson plays the obsessed Bostick, who is neglecting his baby-crazy wife, and who has already ruined one marriage through his birding. This subplot is the weak point of the film. Martin plays Stu, a retiring CEO, who keeps being pulled back into action at his business, and who is coming to terms with his age and future. Black plays Brad, a worker bee, who is pulling off his Big Year and job at the same time, while trying to appease his parents and credit card companies at the same time. Most of it works very well. Nothing is super excellent, but it is nice and moves along pretty quickly. If only the Bostick arc could have been done in shorthand more. It's incredibly obvious what's going to happen...
There are nice comedic beats from a subdued Jack Black, some heartfelt moments from Steve Martin, and the usual Owen Wilson excellence. This gets a good recommendation, but gets promoted closer to greatness by all the birds. Huzzah! Not excellent, but very good.
O.
Sunday, 8 October 2017
Where Would You Go?
Let's be brief: It's late on a Sunday, after a day full of swimming and teaching, and there is currently no plan for this post. What on Earth could this possibly be about? What? Could it be about the joy of learning to swim through experience and learning to be comfortable in the water? Well, maybe. Could it be about the joys of being at the very end stages of Project Wood 2017? Could it even be about the relative joy of realising your story can be about anything you want, and feeling free to jettison the path you were on in order to move forward on another? What about being very happy with student progress, or the perplexing nature of language teaching? All these topics could work. Ack. They're also all pretty boring and expected, based on recent writing. There's nothing particularly interesting there, from the writer's point of view. There's not even a reference to cheese of the world of competitive pleating.
Ah well, when you have your back to the wall, and a deadline looms, you just go with what you have: If you had your own submarine, what would you do with it? Now, this is not a segue into 'Voyage To The Bottom Of The Sea', where Admiral Nelson made a deal with the Navy to get a deeply deranged nuclear reactor on his private underwater scientific vessel, which people operate by pulling out orange rods with their bare hands. No. No, where would you go with your own submarine, really? It's a nice question. We know so little, in the popular sphere, about the underwater world that we have absolutely no idea where we would go. Yes, the name Mariana Trench pops up pretty commonly in fiction, but what else do we know? Anything? There were some references in 'The Hunf For Red October', and you can count on 'Voyage' to throw in some made-up nonsense, but otherwise it's a blank mystery. Where would we go if we had our own submarines?
In the spirit of scientific investigation, my choices would be to go explore a deep submarine trench, visit an active underwater volcano, explore a darkened cave, and then visit any (friendly) underwater civilizations that might be hiding out down at the bottom of the sea. You can never have too many friends, even if they have tentacles or a tendency to squish when they walk. Actually, that would be kind of silly. An underwater species wouldn't need to walk, unless they have their own sealed habitats of course. Hmm. What would be the point of being an underwater species and then having sealed air filled habitats, presumably stuffed with oxygen filtered from the ocean? What would be the point, indeed? Maybe, they would really be refugees from another planet, landed in antiquity, or a race that just likes to have their own version of the swimming pool, which would be the air bubble. Yes! Yes! It's an aquatic version of a swimming pool! They might just to go squilching from time to time. They would have to have lessons: beginner's squilching, improvers' squilching, and competitive amateur squilching clubs. It would be nice.
That's how you end a post on a bewildering note, isn't it. It feels like it would be a good theme for something, actually...
O.
Ah well, when you have your back to the wall, and a deadline looms, you just go with what you have: If you had your own submarine, what would you do with it? Now, this is not a segue into 'Voyage To The Bottom Of The Sea', where Admiral Nelson made a deal with the Navy to get a deeply deranged nuclear reactor on his private underwater scientific vessel, which people operate by pulling out orange rods with their bare hands. No. No, where would you go with your own submarine, really? It's a nice question. We know so little, in the popular sphere, about the underwater world that we have absolutely no idea where we would go. Yes, the name Mariana Trench pops up pretty commonly in fiction, but what else do we know? Anything? There were some references in 'The Hunf For Red October', and you can count on 'Voyage' to throw in some made-up nonsense, but otherwise it's a blank mystery. Where would we go if we had our own submarines?
In the spirit of scientific investigation, my choices would be to go explore a deep submarine trench, visit an active underwater volcano, explore a darkened cave, and then visit any (friendly) underwater civilizations that might be hiding out down at the bottom of the sea. You can never have too many friends, even if they have tentacles or a tendency to squish when they walk. Actually, that would be kind of silly. An underwater species wouldn't need to walk, unless they have their own sealed habitats of course. Hmm. What would be the point of being an underwater species and then having sealed air filled habitats, presumably stuffed with oxygen filtered from the ocean? What would be the point, indeed? Maybe, they would really be refugees from another planet, landed in antiquity, or a race that just likes to have their own version of the swimming pool, which would be the air bubble. Yes! Yes! It's an aquatic version of a swimming pool! They might just to go squilching from time to time. They would have to have lessons: beginner's squilching, improvers' squilching, and competitive amateur squilching clubs. It would be nice.
That's how you end a post on a bewildering note, isn't it. It feels like it would be a good theme for something, actually...
O.
Friday, 6 October 2017
Television: 'Alias: Remnants' (2003) (Episode 3x10)
Season three of 'Alias' is frustrating. It's not really surprising since it had so many things to fight against, including behind the scenes drama between actors, the showrunner mentally wandering off after writing the series into a massive second season cliffhanger, cast members being written out and a whole layer of the show going with them, new people being brought in at the acting, writing and directing levels, and a shuddering change of tone and disconnect that naturally came with putting a two year time lapse into the narrative coupled with amnesia!. It's amazing that it recovered at all!
'Remnants' is notable for bringing back a sense of what the show used to be, by temporarily returning ex-regular Will Tippin, as played by Bradley Cooper, and reinstalling a sense of fun that had been missing for quite a while. Yes, it was a fun episode! It doesn't matter that the previous episode's cliffhanger didn't work into this one very well. No, not at all. For a brief moment, things were okay with the series, which had been picking up anyway, but would forever be saddled with a bewildering number of reboots, retcons and reimaginings after the second season, and indeed after this very episode. It also became much more gruesome after the first season, which is never good.
Why is 'Remnants' a success? The return of Will allowed for Sydney Bristow to have a personal life once again, which has been missing, and for some resolution to Bradley Cooper's exit from the series. He got to have a ball as someone who's best friend had unexpectedly returned from the dead to surprise him out of his witness protection seclusion, and who eventually managed to get the ultimate revenge on the woman who had doppelgangered and murdered his girlfriend. Well, we never said this was a series based in reality, did we? His rock star accent was good, though, as was his always excellent chemistry with Jessica Garner. In fact, his arc allowed for some resolution to the extremely jarring beginning of the season and failed follow up to the seasonal cliffhanger. The other better aspects were Sydney being funkily and funnily undercover for the first time seemingly in ages, Sloane once again being his ultimately untrustworthy self, although it might have been better if he had been being honest for once, and the return of Rambaldi references. Ah, Rambaldi, the blessing and the curse of the series. If only that whole thread could have been resolved in a better way. If only they could have kept a throughline going without starting again every season. If only they hadn't thrown away the essential duality of the series as a whole. If only Sloane had made some sense. If only, if only...
It's a nice episode. What's coming next? Well, Sloane will be sneaky, and Jack will be ruthless before having his end of season cliffhanger in turn retconned into oblivion. For now, we have a great one-off moment in the middle of the run. Well done, Will Tippin, and bon voyage once again.
O.
'Remnants' is notable for bringing back a sense of what the show used to be, by temporarily returning ex-regular Will Tippin, as played by Bradley Cooper, and reinstalling a sense of fun that had been missing for quite a while. Yes, it was a fun episode! It doesn't matter that the previous episode's cliffhanger didn't work into this one very well. No, not at all. For a brief moment, things were okay with the series, which had been picking up anyway, but would forever be saddled with a bewildering number of reboots, retcons and reimaginings after the second season, and indeed after this very episode. It also became much more gruesome after the first season, which is never good.
Why is 'Remnants' a success? The return of Will allowed for Sydney Bristow to have a personal life once again, which has been missing, and for some resolution to Bradley Cooper's exit from the series. He got to have a ball as someone who's best friend had unexpectedly returned from the dead to surprise him out of his witness protection seclusion, and who eventually managed to get the ultimate revenge on the woman who had doppelgangered and murdered his girlfriend. Well, we never said this was a series based in reality, did we? His rock star accent was good, though, as was his always excellent chemistry with Jessica Garner. In fact, his arc allowed for some resolution to the extremely jarring beginning of the season and failed follow up to the seasonal cliffhanger. The other better aspects were Sydney being funkily and funnily undercover for the first time seemingly in ages, Sloane once again being his ultimately untrustworthy self, although it might have been better if he had been being honest for once, and the return of Rambaldi references. Ah, Rambaldi, the blessing and the curse of the series. If only that whole thread could have been resolved in a better way. If only they could have kept a throughline going without starting again every season. If only they hadn't thrown away the essential duality of the series as a whole. If only Sloane had made some sense. If only, if only...
It's a nice episode. What's coming next? Well, Sloane will be sneaky, and Jack will be ruthless before having his end of season cliffhanger in turn retconned into oblivion. For now, we have a great one-off moment in the middle of the run. Well done, Will Tippin, and bon voyage once again.
O.
Wednesday, 4 October 2017
"Yes, Guv, it was the milkman that did it!"
Ah, much is explained. Entirely unscientific experimentation seems to indicate that a lot of my recent fatigue has been caused by dairy products. Of course. Yes, there is the usual seasonal factor, but those mugs of hot cocoa and bowls of yogurt had quite a lot to answer for! Slow poison by warm cocoa is a very unusual diagnosis, isn't it? At least it's an easy fix to implement and the last week has seen a great improvement, to the point where the maddened students have even noticed a great improvement. Huzzah, huzzah, bring in the yo-yos! Not even an accidental wood mallet blow to the head is a problem this week, although the mark is going to take a while to go away. It's amazing that that wood project went so well as to not result in a serious casualty!
Now, with a swift sideway swerve, let's awkwardly shift from one topic to another. Did you notice? Did you? Have a mug of cocoa. It might help.
Autumn is now fully upon us here in the green and soggy county of Carmarthenshire, and pretty soon we may all have to invest in dinghies to sail down the hills to the shop, down torrential water rapids that used to be roads. Of course, in that instance we would have to invent some means for the shop to not be underwater, but nothing is impossible. Perhaps there would need to be some ridiculous engineering works to elevate the petrol station and shop, or put in some water locks in new waterproof walls surrounding the place? Oh, but it wouldn't need to be a petrol station any more? This will require some thought. It would probably be easier to just build another one up a hill. Oh well. The petrol station will be obsolete in a few years anyway.
Having written myself in to a particularly hypothetical corner, and not being willing to write about the confusion around the third season of 'Alias' yet, or the book and movie of 'The Big Year', it's time to stop. Yes, it's a short post, but it's dark outside, and sleep beckons. Oh, the joy of uninterrupted sleep!
O.
Note: Cocoa paste with honey and a little cold milk is still nice though. It's what was nice the whole time anyway. Yum!
Now, with a swift sideway swerve, let's awkwardly shift from one topic to another. Did you notice? Did you? Have a mug of cocoa. It might help.
Autumn is now fully upon us here in the green and soggy county of Carmarthenshire, and pretty soon we may all have to invest in dinghies to sail down the hills to the shop, down torrential water rapids that used to be roads. Of course, in that instance we would have to invent some means for the shop to not be underwater, but nothing is impossible. Perhaps there would need to be some ridiculous engineering works to elevate the petrol station and shop, or put in some water locks in new waterproof walls surrounding the place? Oh, but it wouldn't need to be a petrol station any more? This will require some thought. It would probably be easier to just build another one up a hill. Oh well. The petrol station will be obsolete in a few years anyway.
Having written myself in to a particularly hypothetical corner, and not being willing to write about the confusion around the third season of 'Alias' yet, or the book and movie of 'The Big Year', it's time to stop. Yes, it's a short post, but it's dark outside, and sleep beckons. Oh, the joy of uninterrupted sleep!
O.
Note: Cocoa paste with honey and a little cold milk is still nice though. It's what was nice the whole time anyway. Yum!
Monday, 2 October 2017
Story: 'Wordspace' Phase II, Part XIV
( Part I , XIII , XV )
Fire blazed prettily as he stamped toward the Invader, while Earth rumbled mightily as he moved ominously onward. Cloud was almost blown toward the horizon by Air's massive drift, and Water undulated impressively across the punctuation specked terrain of the Wordspace. The four gentle Elemental giants were not presences to be taken lightly.
Mystery didn't dawdle long over the impressive sight, however, as Cloud wheeled around and whisked him quickly across to another approach to the Zone of Meaningless Jargon, where another group of words was ambulating purposefully. One of them waved up familiarly.
"It's Club!", Mystery exclaimed, "But who are those peculiar words with him? They look like refugees from a different age! What angularity!"
Cloud landed, and Mystery went forth to meet the newcomers.
* * *
Infinity's eye was becoming more focussed. It's letters contracted, relaxed, and then contracted again. "How long?", the question rumbled along the undersurface of the world.
"I don't know," Dream replied, "I've been away as well, somewhere far far away, perhaps..." A memory nagged at her, but then slipped away.
Infinity continued to look at her.
"Surprise would know. He always knows things that no-one else does. At least, he always used to."
"I will ask."
Dream had no idea how he would ask someone who wasn't there, but then Surprise stumbled into the balcony area looking highly, well, surprised. "Egads!", he exclaimed, before fainting clean away.
"You would think that someone with such a name would be able to handle a shock or two as well as handing them out.", thought Dream.
When Infinity chuckled, it was as if the whole universe was having a laugh.
To be continued, again, and then again. And again. You get the idea.
Fire blazed prettily as he stamped toward the Invader, while Earth rumbled mightily as he moved ominously onward. Cloud was almost blown toward the horizon by Air's massive drift, and Water undulated impressively across the punctuation specked terrain of the Wordspace. The four gentle Elemental giants were not presences to be taken lightly.
Mystery didn't dawdle long over the impressive sight, however, as Cloud wheeled around and whisked him quickly across to another approach to the Zone of Meaningless Jargon, where another group of words was ambulating purposefully. One of them waved up familiarly.
"It's Club!", Mystery exclaimed, "But who are those peculiar words with him? They look like refugees from a different age! What angularity!"
Cloud landed, and Mystery went forth to meet the newcomers.
* * *
Infinity's eye was becoming more focussed. It's letters contracted, relaxed, and then contracted again. "How long?", the question rumbled along the undersurface of the world.
"I don't know," Dream replied, "I've been away as well, somewhere far far away, perhaps..." A memory nagged at her, but then slipped away.
Infinity continued to look at her.
"Surprise would know. He always knows things that no-one else does. At least, he always used to."
"I will ask."
Dream had no idea how he would ask someone who wasn't there, but then Surprise stumbled into the balcony area looking highly, well, surprised. "Egads!", he exclaimed, before fainting clean away.
"You would think that someone with such a name would be able to handle a shock or two as well as handing them out.", thought Dream.
When Infinity chuckled, it was as if the whole universe was having a laugh.
To be continued, again, and then again. And again. You get the idea.
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