Story: The Disappearance (IV)

(Parts III , V)

The night was long and uncluttered with dreams. I rarely dream in the middle of a case, or at least I don't remember it if I do, as reality is so much stranger than any twisted fantasy brought out by the unconscious. That's the way it goes for us out in the 'silly squads', lampooned in the media as 'biscuit twitchers' and cranks of the first order. I wondered then if our citizens would continue to think that way if they knew about Fred and Cheryl lying in the recovery room after an armed evidence grab, or the numbers of disappearances and weird phenomena.

Weird phenomena... I flashed back to what had started this sequence off: A cooling trace on a pavement where a man - or of course a woman - had been vanished from this world into some other time and place, perhaps never here to be seen again. It was a gloomy concept in a farcical situation. Not for the first time I wondered how on Earth any of this could be happening and why it was linked to biscuits of all things. Biscuits! Plain chocolate digestive BISCUITS! It was farcical and ridiculous and even just a little grotesque in its stupidity.

The agents sent in to retrieve our biscuit evidence had proven something though: The situation was real and not just a collective figment of the imagination. That was good to know. Also, there were agents to be involved, and probably somewhere there was an origin to this nonsense. For years there had been discreet investigations into the biscuit makers and their factories. We knew that certain brands were statistically linked to the phenomena but they claimed total ignorance and never a shred of evidence was found to link them to anything. McGonagle Biscuits in particular had a haze of biscuity suspicion baked all over them but were also known to be the most scrupulous in their production. Ingredients were checked, equipment inspected, technicians placed undercover for long-term observation and nothing was seen or heard, or even tasted of smelled.

Lying there, it became clear that the whole thing was impossible. That we were being led a merry chase by a much bigger phenomenon we knew nothing about. Biscuits were just twice baked flour concoctions, with a layer of chocolate melted on top. Something else was infecting them with a chaotic power and that was what we had to isolate and contain. And we had to find the poor vanished man with a minimum of clues, and we had to find those masked agents and apprehend them with a minimum of unacceptable force.

Once you accept that something real is impossible it becomes much easier to deal with. There were conventions of biscuit theorists who wove fanciful webs of imagination and deduction on the subject of the PCD disappearances, when they weren't haunting the back rooms of pubs or corner snooker tables in clubs across the country, or common rooms in Mathematics departments across the country. We had some academics who regularly sent us theories that claimed to answer everything but never quite came through. Maybe it was time to visit someone after work and really get into the grit of the mystery again. Maybe it was time to become a theorist myself once again and go back to the old school.

Before all that though, it would be time to get the update on Fred and Cheryl and endeavour to identify that poor man. Only after would it be time to go back in time and become a professor once again.


There shall be more...

Adversarial Blues

Some days it feels as if the whole world is against you, that every decision you make will be the wrong one, and that given two options we will always choose the wrong one. It's infuriating to always misunderstand and get the wrong end of the stick! Can there ever have been a less capable communicator than I? Of course the world isn't out to get you and there are worse communicators out there, people so utterly incompetent that they can't convey an interest in cheese or understand your opinions on the relative value of a square compared to a circle, but it's hard to believe.

If you're feeling unnecessarily adversarial with the world then perhaps it is time to commit to general policy 25 and go talk to the sea. Most of the time, the sea is one of the best listeners you can find, and it doesn't charge you anything at the end of the session either, except for a few pebbles and stones if you're inclined to throw them in. Of course there's another option, general policy 25b, which is to challenge the sea and see who wins in the anger department. I'm convinced that people go to secluded coastal plots purely to rage at the ocean and unload pent-up frustrations and stress. The sea doesn't care and will let them win, while doing its best to splash in the best possible taste all over their shoes and socks.

Hmmm... cheese...

Today I am reduced to being guestless once again which means I get to talk to myself more and be less self-aware about the contents of my fridge and what I'm eating. So, in that mean-spirited hermit manner I get to be happy. It was nice to have someone to talk to though, and to whom I show the majestic beauty of Aberystwyth and the environs. It's truly a beautiful part of the world and the guest was thoroughly charmed. Everyone who ever visits seems charmed and most people are a little wistful upon leaving. It's that kind of place. The past girlfriend - that wondrous lady - seemed to adore the place, especially upon the cliffs and down by the sea. It was nice to share it with her too. Everyone should visit here! Everyone!

After a period of inactivity, it's probably time to pick up and get in to Film Bin again. We just released the commentary for 'Short Circuit 2' and tomorrow will record another for something very special: 'The Great Muppet Caper'! What a delightfully strange and kooky film. Long before 'Community' and the current 'meta' trends there were the Muppets. They did it all first, and this is the strangest example.

Let's close be serenading Miss Piggy.

O.

The clock ticks on

Once again, it's late. The keys are clacking furiously as I try to put together a Quirky Muffin worthy of its name and time is passing by inexorably.

After so many months of living along I've had a house guest for the last few days. It's an odd experience to suddenly have someone to talk to and play games with, and hopefully there will be other guests before I have to leave Aberystwyth again.

<pauses>

I'm going to have to leave Aberytwyth again.

I really don't want to go. It's so hard to come back to this place I lost once before and now to lose it again. If only there were some way to summon an immediate success out of thin air and consolidate my position as a researcher... but there is not. I'll have to leave again.

There's hope though... some progress has been made in the grand tapestry of research and possible triumphs lurk in the too-distant future, if only they can be teased out and illuminated in the proper fashion. It's possible... mostly possible... maybe a little possible... oh well, utterly impossible but fun to think about. There's always ASDA and writing stories. (Note: 'Possible' is binary, you can't be mostly possible or a little possible, only strictly possible or impossible.)

On story writing there has been progress in roughing out the remainder of 'The Disappearance'. It's hard to make an extended story out of such a silly concept but the potential is now there. Two word hint on current plan: Residual effects. Now, if that's not a tease, then what is?

O.

PS Everything I've said about plain chocolate digestives is true, and we should all be very afraid.

Story: 'Triangles', V

(Part IV , VI)

If the world you knew what was made up of far more triangles than before you'd notice a lot of things. First, there would be many more facets to the shapes you saw, and secondly there would be a lot more sparkles to the world around you. While walking up the hill to what was hopefully the university campus, Delores was constantly being distracted by sparks off unusual surfaces and bizarre incongruences with her own world. Reflecting on things she wondered if maybe her world didn't have a geometric dominance, they just made do with what was most useful and practical. At a microscopic level everything was fractal anyway.

She wondered if things were still fractal at a microscopic level here. How it could not be, really? Why and how could this world happen if there weren't some hidden cause to it all? Were there worlds based on circles and squares and dodecagons? If so, why? The laws of physics would have to be subtly and fundamentally different and that could be lethal to someone from another plane entirely. Was she safe or was reality struggling to cope with her and chaotic nature?

Delores passed the side road to the National Library and paused for thought. In such a copyright library on her own Earth she could find the answers to every question she had if she could but read the language. Even on the campus did she have any idea what she was hoping to find? The world swirled around her as confusing and contradictory ideas crashed in and out a few times before receding back into the distance, and the young woman finally turned right and headed for the library. It was wide open and unlocked as she expected, much like all the other public buildings she had seen. Inside the massive archive she became aware of the challenge in front of her before she remembered something vital: The National Library of Wales was also a film archive back in her own world.

The film archive was hard to find in this National Library. As a Maths student, Delores wasn't even familiar the place in her own dimension and the unfamiliar text and altered geometries made it harder. Finally she stumbled - or possibly broke into with malevolence - a room with a large triangular screen hanging from one of the walls and what was apparently a projector. The projector was an incredibly simple device, with a signicantly coloured pyramidal cartridge loaded into the top and two buttons, one green and one red. She pushed the green button and the room lights dipped as the projector shifted into action.

There was still electricity. Someone had to be around in the world to keep it going.

On the screen a still image of a man appeared, someone in a shambling mustard overcoat and silly blue hat. He was smiling at the camera. At the bottom of the screen there were a row of icons, color coded. Delores Grey touched the green icon and watched as a movie began to play out in front of her.

The man was in a large circular chamber and surrounded by an array of shapes, all resembling doorframes in size and function. There was a light glaring angularly down from the ceiling onto each and a mass of cabling crawling across the floor. The camera continued panning around until the point of view reverted to it's beginnings and the mad looking man grinned a toothy smile and stood on a large triangle in the centre of the circle. The cabling on the floor of the room glowed and the frames filled with irridescent light before settling on to views of... elsewhere. Different places and people could be seen through each aperture, all oddly distinct to her mind. Some of the sights couldn't even be understood, so alien were the rules of reality in place there.

"He did it? This mad person crossed planes? Hopped planets?"

Something was wrong on the screen. Everything was shaking and the mustard coated man was rushing back and forth, trying to shut down power and reestablish safety. Cracks appeared in the camera lens as the chaos intensified and the recording cut off.

"Or maybe he broke it all to heck..."

More shall follow...

Always watch the audience

If you're not quite in touch with a talk, or too tired to be an active enjoyer of a movie or play then watch the audience and observe. It's often very instructive. I employ this tactic at conferences sometimes, and it is strangely reassuring to see the spectrum of interest and understanding across the people attending. Look, over there in the front right are the organisers desperately trying to get enough to be able to ask questions, and over there is the chair dreading an awkward silence at the questioning time or eager to ask something of the speaker. Further back are the ones who are moderately interested or waiting for the next talk and at the back are the ones using their laptops or messing about with phones. Who's that looking fidgety in the third row next to the aisle? The next speaker of course! There's much more subtle information to be gathered but it's less than relevant.

In my role as mathematician I have just returned from the 2013 colloquium at Gregynog, a beautiful stately house that played host to many of us Welsh maths researchers and invited speakers from - gasp -- outside the Principality of Wales. It's a lovely building. I only wish there could have been more time for exploration and enjoyment but injuries continue to prevail, blast them. Blast and drat to all injuries! I think I've been sick or injured ever since returning from Hungary, which is annoying. Obviously the Universe has declared me a damage zone. Thank you, Universe, and next time I have an opportunity to help you I'll... still do it. There's a giant conscience hanging over me, reminding me to be nice and wear warm slippers and perhaps go to sleep at sane times of night. I'm just a fogey with a mad imagination.

fogey: a boring old-fashioned person

I'm hoping there's a place for new fogies in the world, a place for people who can't stand swearing in movies and often stare blankly at the corner of the room as they try to work out what on Earth they were doing ('I came in to get something...'), a place for the most resolute of smart idiots. Essentially I hope there's a place for me! Well, it's looking certain that there isn't but one can only hope. Things can turn around. Even the weakest of fools can gnaw away at a problem until it eventually succumbs. Unless they die first of course. Now, there's an optimistic/morbid thought. Swearing is really getting to me in movies at the moment as I try to get through a mini-season of Ron Howard movies. He's a great and solid director but he has never shied away from foul language where it would be fitting in a film, except for some of his early movies of course. 'Swearing in movies' is an interesting topic, representative of many others, in that the question is whether film-makers should try to reflect reality or inspire a change? Any ideas?

The weekend lies ahead and I hope to make up for the recent cessation of Quirky Muffins once everything has settled down properly post-Gregynog. Job hunting is now in full swing and taking up the expected amount of time but I think it may well come out alright as I have a cardboard box to sleep in and some swimming shorts. That's all anyone needs really, especially if there's chocolate cake in the works. Hmm... chocolate cake...

O.

PS Deja vu continues as I am convinced I've written 'watch the audience' before. It's really very interesting to see humans when they're distracted by something. Such a lovely/disgusting species are we.

Conferences II

As I write this, yet another conference departure is on hand. Who can know what will occur at the fabled Gregynog in the next few days? Could the whole of Mathematics be revolutionised? Could biscuits overthrow the government and institute a bakedocracy? There is no way to tell...

I already covered conference lifestyles in a previous post - summarised by 'slow poison' - and now it's time to dive in again. This time the conference is at a country house, which is nice, and nowhere near so long as the BAMC so it could even be enjoyable! As these days in Aberystwyth dwindle to a close I would quite like to be spending time in this awesome place but instead there's a conference. 'C'est la vie' and 'Gather your rosebuds where you may'. We make the best of what we're given.

It's tough to concentrate on writing when work is at such a bizarre place. Both the existing work strands are in ruts and I can't find the correct lever to get them out of the mud. It's frustrating to be so stuck by technical problems, and that is what is blocking both my articles. Technical problems are the curse of any computer worker. Don't ever do applied mathematics unless you really enjoy programming!

Yesterday I watched 'The Great Waldo Pepper' from 1975, and that really struck me as a great forgotten movie. Everyone talks about 'Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid' and 'The Sting' but no-one talks about this film. It's like the forgotten half-sibling who continually misses the beginnings of meals as no-one thinks to call them in. The flight sequences alone are astonishing! It's a story about heroism/ability and how some people are frustrated by not being able to show or prove that capacity within themselves. Since heroism is often more true in a quiet context it probably is more a movie about ability.

So, two days of conference to come, and the only thing there is to be proven is ability and concentration. Gosh, I hope the sandwiches are identifiable this time.

O.

Movie: 'The Muppet Movie' (1979)

Oh, 'The Muppet Movie', you are one of the treasures of the cinema. It's astonishing what you do and how you affect us. Strangely I didn't see this properly until I was an adult and it still struck me as magical. That's the thing about the Muppets: They are magical. In those first two movies - this and 'The Great Muppet Caper' - they took the power of the still-running television show and condensed it into film form with an attending mass of cameo power. Once Jim Henson moved on it descended into far more formulaic fare but for those two instants of film legend there was... magic.

'The Muppet Movie' functions as a fake prequel to the television show, a meta sendup of movie-making, a mockery of advertising, a buddy movie, and a joke fest of the first order. It was also a state of the art movie with respect to puppeteering. The most famous example of that is Kermit's cycling which was expanded to everyone cycling in 'Caper' but if you watch it and try to remember to think about the puppeteering - which I never do - then you'll realise it's a monumental achievement! There should be books written about these movies! Perhaps there are. I don't know.

Note: This is being written in the aftermath of Eurovision 2013 and my mind might be a little addled by now. Sheesh, it wasn't as rough as usual but it was still rough.

Now, back to this half-baked assessment. Did I mention there were songs? Well, of course there are as this is from the classic Muppets era! 'Rainbow Connection' rules supreme and the Electric Mayhem are still rocking like the addled troupers they were always meant to be. Rowlff is still the best though, the most musical and funny Muppet there is. Rowlff has not been shown the spotlight over following years and it's sad as he is the awesome one and one of the earliest Muppets. Some of the fondest 'Muppet Show' moments come from his piano playing paws. Oh, how could anyone not love Rowlff.

I could go on about the plot and the lovely little ways each of the Muppets is introduced into the story and into the company of the other Muppets, and how the day is saved by a giant Animal scaring off Doc Hopper of fried frog legs fame but it would be redundant. Charles Durning and Austin Pendleton (Yay!) are the antagonists and do sterling jobs.

Ultimately every Muppet story comes down to Kermit. As much as Ray is the heart of the Ghostbusters, Kermit is the heart and soul of this troupe of furry and fuzzy entertainers. This time he finds his calling, and his pig, and brings happiness to millions of people. Who can ask better than that? 'The Muppet Movie' is a fantastic family movie, which layers more than enough content for people of every age to enjoy, and can even dissolve a few cynical hearts in the process.

O.


PS Incoherent ramblings are excellent, aren't they?