In a couple of days, there will be a coach trip and friends in Manchester will be visited. Maybe the Quirky Muffin will go on sabbatical, or maybe there will be cover posts. At this point, the former seems more likely, given the current writer's block. Words are not working out well in any way except for the blatant blathering of streams of consciousness. I could go on like this indefinitely, but the post would meander all over the place and eventually end up in a tirade about rice pudding. `How is it possible to rant about rice pudding?', you might ask, but it's better that you not know.
Ah, coach journeys, the last bastion of even vaguely civilized travel. The baggage is safely locked away, there is no overbooking so seats are guaranteed, you get rest breaks every few hours in which to wander around, and there's no significant air conditioning except in extreme circumstances. Also, the stations are on a level so there's no messing about with lifts or stairs. Air conditioning... People with sinus conditions hate air conditioning as if it were some diabolical artefact, an evil device sent to torture and abuse. With some thought, they're right. Horrible things. Let's remove them except in arctic and jungle environments. Hee hee.
Coach journeys seem romantic, in part because of their presence in old movies. Who will ever forget the singing sequence on the bus in 'It Happened One Night', after all? Oh, that's a good film, a romantic odyssey. I never would have given Clark Gable a chance if not for 'It Happened One Night', so poisoned is he by association with 'Gone With The Wind'. I've never seen 'Gone With The Wind', to be honest, but it has been so lauded and was so successful that it must almost certainly be a terrible melodrama. Almost certainly! 'Casablanca' might perhaps be good, but 'Gone With The Wind'? Never! If this isn't prejudice on display, then I know not what is going on!
Ahem. Decorum is restored.
Yes, two long long coach journeys are not to be feared, especially as they will allow lots of time to get caught up on the French backlog. This first year of the OU degree has to end nicely or reflect badly on the courses to follow. Courage, imaginary readers of the Quirky Muffin, it can only improve from here.
Let the probably sabbatical commence, with resumption in the middle of next week.
O.
Friday, 28 April 2017
Wednesday, 26 April 2017
Story: 'Diary of a Laundry Robot', Week XI
( Week X , Week XII )
Saturday
We have just returned from our audience with the Grand High Querg. It was very interesting. He was very curious about Celia's robo-bear especially, which she tried to give to him as a present. He wisely knew better than to take the thing. It is now throwing hats at me when I practice juggling. Could the robo-bear not like me? It's just a toy! In any case, we were summoned because the Grand High Querg had information about the Blots, from one of the most exclusive Books of Querg. Sadly, I didn't explain a word of it, but Egbert said he would explain it to us all tomorrow.
Sunday
Egg. This is Egbert. I'm recording into the microphone on this egg-celent robot. He seems to be very level headed, even when not performing his duties. I'm supposed to explain the Grand High Querg's information in a way that people will understand. Obviously, they have confused me with another elephant! The GHQ told us that we were part of some massive temporal correction, which will eventually come to a peaceful conclusion, and that I am some kind of catalyst! Me, Egbert Elephant, MD! Who would have thought it? The only tricky part is that the relevant Great Book is refusing to reveal the pertinent details. For now, the mystery of why Blots disappear when I go near remains a mystery! By the Great Egg! What could it mean??? I wonder how long it will be before I get to see my patients again? They are probably missing my jokes!
Tuesday
We have been summoned to the Grand High Querg's presence again. What can it be?
Thursday
A mission? They have a mission for laundry robots? The GHQ says we may have to leave the Continuum for a while. I shall reveal more as it becomes clear.
To be continued...
Saturday
We have just returned from our audience with the Grand High Querg. It was very interesting. He was very curious about Celia's robo-bear especially, which she tried to give to him as a present. He wisely knew better than to take the thing. It is now throwing hats at me when I practice juggling. Could the robo-bear not like me? It's just a toy! In any case, we were summoned because the Grand High Querg had information about the Blots, from one of the most exclusive Books of Querg. Sadly, I didn't explain a word of it, but Egbert said he would explain it to us all tomorrow.
Sunday
Egg. This is Egbert. I'm recording into the microphone on this egg-celent robot. He seems to be very level headed, even when not performing his duties. I'm supposed to explain the Grand High Querg's information in a way that people will understand. Obviously, they have confused me with another elephant! The GHQ told us that we were part of some massive temporal correction, which will eventually come to a peaceful conclusion, and that I am some kind of catalyst! Me, Egbert Elephant, MD! Who would have thought it? The only tricky part is that the relevant Great Book is refusing to reveal the pertinent details. For now, the mystery of why Blots disappear when I go near remains a mystery! By the Great Egg! What could it mean??? I wonder how long it will be before I get to see my patients again? They are probably missing my jokes!
Tuesday
We have been summoned to the Grand High Querg's presence again. What can it be?
Thursday
A mission? They have a mission for laundry robots? The GHQ says we may have to leave the Continuum for a while. I shall reveal more as it becomes clear.
To be continued...
Monday, 24 April 2017
To Be Romantic
To be romantic isn't just about making googly eyes (technical term) at someone over some candles, or buying flowers. Actually, it's far more than that. That notion of romantic love is just an artifact of people's attempts to sell chocolates, flowers and candles. No, to be romantic is a far different thing. The classical novelists knew it, this blog knows it in theory, and so does anyone who gets carried away on a flight of fancy instead of being bogged down in unending pragmatism. Romance is being caught up in a beautiful moment, wondering 'what if' on a lazy morning stroll, or wandering whether you will on a gentle stroll. It's a beautiful thing. It's an imaginative experience.
If we look for a clinical definition of being romantic, then we end up in a wormhole orbiting the romance languages derived from latin, stories that are remote from the everyday realities of life, and love affairs. Maybe we could come up with a different definition, though. Isn't one unifying characteristic of the greater romance an ability to indulge in believing the unbelievable in some positive way? Couldn't that work?
The reason why this springs to mind is that romance seems to be in awfully short supply right now. One of the reasons why 'The Mentalist' worked so well for me was that it did indulge in romance of the fanciful sort, especially in the behaviour of Jane, while remaining modern. It was a bit of a freak. Most of the television shows and movies close to my heart are very romantic, as are the notable works of Rachmaninov. That classical music really can lift you off into a more romantic world, filled with imagination and a harmony with the universe. Ah, Rachmaninov...
Being romantic isn't an inherent ability, but something we should nurture. Even now, as a teacher, I see children being trained out of being romantic, and it's painful. It's probably scorned because it's not corporate and encapsulates everything non-businesslike about human nature. Pongy pineapples to 'businesslike', we need to live! Yes, that's hard to believe and positive. It must be romantic!
And now we return you to the regularly scheduled nonsense. Writer's block continues. Ugh. Curse you, googly eyes of sainted memory!
O.
If we look for a clinical definition of being romantic, then we end up in a wormhole orbiting the romance languages derived from latin, stories that are remote from the everyday realities of life, and love affairs. Maybe we could come up with a different definition, though. Isn't one unifying characteristic of the greater romance an ability to indulge in believing the unbelievable in some positive way? Couldn't that work?
The reason why this springs to mind is that romance seems to be in awfully short supply right now. One of the reasons why 'The Mentalist' worked so well for me was that it did indulge in romance of the fanciful sort, especially in the behaviour of Jane, while remaining modern. It was a bit of a freak. Most of the television shows and movies close to my heart are very romantic, as are the notable works of Rachmaninov. That classical music really can lift you off into a more romantic world, filled with imagination and a harmony with the universe. Ah, Rachmaninov...
Being romantic isn't an inherent ability, but something we should nurture. Even now, as a teacher, I see children being trained out of being romantic, and it's painful. It's probably scorned because it's not corporate and encapsulates everything non-businesslike about human nature. Pongy pineapples to 'businesslike', we need to live! Yes, that's hard to believe and positive. It must be romantic!
And now we return you to the regularly scheduled nonsense. Writer's block continues. Ugh. Curse you, googly eyes of sainted memory!
O.
Saturday, 22 April 2017
Television: 'The West Wing: Two Cathedrals' (2001) (Episode 2x22)
And then we all waited. For months. With 'Brothers In Arms' running on a loop in our minds. This was one of the best season finales in television, and we all had to wait. The 11th of September incident would intervene between seasons, and the beginning of the third season would be distinctly underwhelming, but for now we all revelled in having watched one of the best television episodes ever.
Great things defy description, while terrible things can be nitpicked into oblivion. Love is irrational, but hate has a reason for everything. That which lingers is what defines what we've experienced. In 'Two Cathedrals', we saw a cleaner picking up a flattened cathedral in a cathedral, a storm raging within and without, a ghostly visitation, and both a renunciation and an acceptance. We saw people worrying deeply about their futures, but then falling into line to bravely go forth and face them, and we saw faith on multiple levels. There were brothers In arms on many levels.
Sometimes, you just have to wonder at how people can make these things on a television schedule. How can it possibly happen? Where does the ability come from, and where does it go when it's done? Think of the dozens and dozens of people, all doing their parts of the work, and all to a common goal? They all made 'Two Cathedrals'. It's not just great writing, the super direction, or the titanically still central performance of Martin Sheen. It's everything. Thinking back to Sheen for a moment, how is it possible that one person being utterly still can be so magnetic? What is this strange ability that one or two screen actors have? It's perplexing.
Storms have been used metaphorically in fiction for what seems like eons, for example in 'The Tempest', as have ghosts. Reluctant heroes who betrayed themselves in their own past before turning back to the light are commonplace. The archetypes are potent, but it's the mixing that counts. Here, the mixing is perfect, and the lesson endeth here. It's a shame about season three, but what can we do. It will pick up again.
O.
Great things defy description, while terrible things can be nitpicked into oblivion. Love is irrational, but hate has a reason for everything. That which lingers is what defines what we've experienced. In 'Two Cathedrals', we saw a cleaner picking up a flattened cathedral in a cathedral, a storm raging within and without, a ghostly visitation, and both a renunciation and an acceptance. We saw people worrying deeply about their futures, but then falling into line to bravely go forth and face them, and we saw faith on multiple levels. There were brothers In arms on many levels.
Sometimes, you just have to wonder at how people can make these things on a television schedule. How can it possibly happen? Where does the ability come from, and where does it go when it's done? Think of the dozens and dozens of people, all doing their parts of the work, and all to a common goal? They all made 'Two Cathedrals'. It's not just great writing, the super direction, or the titanically still central performance of Martin Sheen. It's everything. Thinking back to Sheen for a moment, how is it possible that one person being utterly still can be so magnetic? What is this strange ability that one or two screen actors have? It's perplexing.
Storms have been used metaphorically in fiction for what seems like eons, for example in 'The Tempest', as have ghosts. Reluctant heroes who betrayed themselves in their own past before turning back to the light are commonplace. The archetypes are potent, but it's the mixing that counts. Here, the mixing is perfect, and the lesson endeth here. It's a shame about season three, but what can we do. It will pick up again.
O.
Thursday, 20 April 2017
Electoral Theory, II
Let's have one more go, and then put this surprising election and spate of politics to one side. It was a massive surprise for an election to be declared, and so the self-imposed embargo on politics was broken. Then, for twenty-four hours, all anyone in the hysterical media could say was that ghoulish made up term for leaving the European Union, which grotesque word will never be written in this weblog, which was almost unbearable even all these months after those backbreaking referendum campaigns of supreme negativity. It was monotonous, like a clanging bell on a distant dreary lighthouse. The prospect of more weeks of that tedium was, to say the least, unedifying. To say the most, it was the beginning of a possible assault on the group sanity of the whole country!
Now, after the initial clamour has died down, it seems like we could have a very interesting election. It's not as cut and dried as you might think with a twenty point lead in the polls for the rich people's party, and odd forebodings are swirling around in the atmosphere. It could actually be... interesting. An interesting election would be quite the novelty! Don't expect much more than that general idea here, though, as this will never be a political weblog. How interesting it is to have two main parties with significantly different ideas, though, which might actually lead to differences in policy. How unusual it is to have a major political party not deeply in thrall to corporate interests. How interesting to have an obvious contrast!
The blunt pencil tied to the wall awaits, but in the coming weeks there are bound to be all kinds of implications and answers to fascinating questions. Will Scotland's future still be a question after the election / birthday? Who exactly is going to be picking up the pickled pieces of defeat? Why will the Palace of Westminster be replaced by a giant candied replica? Who exactly is Edmund Blackadder? Will Teresa May still be jabbering on about grammar schools? It could well be a pipe dream to imagine that we will get a substantial set of campaigns, with some points being raised for the first time in generations, but it's a well meaning dream. In a way, it doesn't entirely matter who wins, as long as a pattern is set for a future wherein we can actually talk about the things which concern us all, and not be sneered at or ignored by people who take the status quo for granted. If we can't even talk about the evils of the past, for example, how can we hope to avoid repeating them?
Maybe nothing will change, but the suspicion here at Quirky Muffin Base is that things won't ever be quite the same again. This can only be good, because it has been pretty awful for a long, long time. Normal service is now resumed until election results day.
<resets mode>
Good grief, Steve Austin has been captured by crooks using remote control sharks to hijack a nuclear submarine? 'The Six Million Dollar Man' can be very, very hokey at times...
O.
Now, after the initial clamour has died down, it seems like we could have a very interesting election. It's not as cut and dried as you might think with a twenty point lead in the polls for the rich people's party, and odd forebodings are swirling around in the atmosphere. It could actually be... interesting. An interesting election would be quite the novelty! Don't expect much more than that general idea here, though, as this will never be a political weblog. How interesting it is to have two main parties with significantly different ideas, though, which might actually lead to differences in policy. How unusual it is to have a major political party not deeply in thrall to corporate interests. How interesting to have an obvious contrast!
The blunt pencil tied to the wall awaits, but in the coming weeks there are bound to be all kinds of implications and answers to fascinating questions. Will Scotland's future still be a question after the election / birthday? Who exactly is going to be picking up the pickled pieces of defeat? Why will the Palace of Westminster be replaced by a giant candied replica? Who exactly is Edmund Blackadder? Will Teresa May still be jabbering on about grammar schools? It could well be a pipe dream to imagine that we will get a substantial set of campaigns, with some points being raised for the first time in generations, but it's a well meaning dream. In a way, it doesn't entirely matter who wins, as long as a pattern is set for a future wherein we can actually talk about the things which concern us all, and not be sneered at or ignored by people who take the status quo for granted. If we can't even talk about the evils of the past, for example, how can we hope to avoid repeating them?
Maybe nothing will change, but the suspicion here at Quirky Muffin Base is that things won't ever be quite the same again. This can only be good, because it has been pretty awful for a long, long time. Normal service is now resumed until election results day.
<resets mode>
Good grief, Steve Austin has been captured by crooks using remote control sharks to hijack a nuclear submarine? 'The Six Million Dollar Man' can be very, very hokey at times...
O.
Tuesday, 18 April 2017
Electoral Theory
Wouldn't you know it? In one moment, you're a happily deranged doodler or playing a good game of 'Paperback', and then the next moment some person goes and parks a great big general election on your birthday. That's what we call bad timing. Obviously, the government has noted my implied disapproval of their collective choice in neckties and targeted me for theoretical party sabotage. Oh, the horror, the passion, the sheer annoyance at having to vote again!
It has been ten months, but the voting fatigue from the referendum persists. The idea of having to make another important decision is frustrating, to say the least, but that's sure to pass. In our mixed up system, which would be far better if we could vote for our representative and our leader separately, all we really have to do is look at our candidates, choose the best one for us, and stick a cross next to their name with the dull pencil tied to the wall. It's pretty simple. Ah, the good old blunt pencil. I did campaign for a method of voting which involved specifically labelled lettuce leaves, but it never did take root.
Our elections only become complicated and broken if we try to consider all the indirect consequences of our vote. Yes, we vote for a person, and the winner goes on to form part of a bloc in parliament. If that bloc makes up the majority then we indirectly influence the formation of a government, which has a leader selected from within its own bloc. That government then nominates all kinds of others things, all three or four times removed from our cross made with the dull pencil. It's just too much. All we have to do is look at the evidence for own little contest, look at the leaflets, read the profiles, consider the issues, and finally choose who we think is best to represent us.
Sigh. Another election. More negative campaigning, more needless and malicious slapping down of the Corbyn, more lies and more disguised truths. It's all too much. One person, one vote, one box. Best candidate for you. Let's hope the agglomerated
O.
It has been ten months, but the voting fatigue from the referendum persists. The idea of having to make another important decision is frustrating, to say the least, but that's sure to pass. In our mixed up system, which would be far better if we could vote for our representative and our leader separately, all we really have to do is look at our candidates, choose the best one for us, and stick a cross next to their name with the dull pencil tied to the wall. It's pretty simple. Ah, the good old blunt pencil. I did campaign for a method of voting which involved specifically labelled lettuce leaves, but it never did take root.
Our elections only become complicated and broken if we try to consider all the indirect consequences of our vote. Yes, we vote for a person, and the winner goes on to form part of a bloc in parliament. If that bloc makes up the majority then we indirectly influence the formation of a government, which has a leader selected from within its own bloc. That government then nominates all kinds of others things, all three or four times removed from our cross made with the dull pencil. It's just too much. All we have to do is look at the evidence for own little contest, look at the leaflets, read the profiles, consider the issues, and finally choose who we think is best to represent us.
Sigh. Another election. More negative campaigning, more needless and malicious slapping down of the Corbyn, more lies and more disguised truths. It's all too much. One person, one vote, one box. Best candidate for you. Let's hope the agglomerated
O.
Sunday, 16 April 2017
Easter
Ah, after a day of roughing out an outline for an extremely futile essay, and playing 'Paperback' for the first time, the Quirky Muffin will get its due. Many words, all in a rush, right now!
It's Easter, one of the two indisputably religious holidays of the year, and thus one of the two that makes you feel a bit icky for taking advantage of it as a principled agnostic. Yes, it's still a few days off, but it would be nice if it were slightly more neutral. Maybe too much thought it being put into this, though. Maybe no-one really pays attention to why the national holidays happen in the real world?
'Paperback' is a great word game, by the way. It's now one of the two great all time word games, along with Scrabble, as far as this blog writer is concerned. Ah, the joys of experimenting with new games. It's also nice to be reading once again, and this time the long neglected 'Father Brown' stories of GK Chesterton are being mixed in with the 'Brigadier Gerard' tales of Arthur Conan Doyle and the Chinese classic 'Journey to the West' to make a very interesting cocktail of literature. It's alarming that I almost never got to the Gerard stories. They are certainly some of Doyle's very best work. Amazing.
The Easter holiday is always a tricky needle to thread, with its expanse of theoretically free days, which should really be used to study, prepare, or write extensive and silly blog posts. Enforced free time is very much oxymoronic. It's obvious at this point that humans have been indoctrinated too much to actually take time off of their own accord, but this is a tricky concept to understand. Enforced relaxation?
And now, back to the e-mail backlog. Sometimes, a little is more than enough.
O.
It's Easter, one of the two indisputably religious holidays of the year, and thus one of the two that makes you feel a bit icky for taking advantage of it as a principled agnostic. Yes, it's still a few days off, but it would be nice if it were slightly more neutral. Maybe too much thought it being put into this, though. Maybe no-one really pays attention to why the national holidays happen in the real world?
'Paperback' is a great word game, by the way. It's now one of the two great all time word games, along with Scrabble, as far as this blog writer is concerned. Ah, the joys of experimenting with new games. It's also nice to be reading once again, and this time the long neglected 'Father Brown' stories of GK Chesterton are being mixed in with the 'Brigadier Gerard' tales of Arthur Conan Doyle and the Chinese classic 'Journey to the West' to make a very interesting cocktail of literature. It's alarming that I almost never got to the Gerard stories. They are certainly some of Doyle's very best work. Amazing.
The Easter holiday is always a tricky needle to thread, with its expanse of theoretically free days, which should really be used to study, prepare, or write extensive and silly blog posts. Enforced free time is very much oxymoronic. It's obvious at this point that humans have been indoctrinated too much to actually take time off of their own accord, but this is a tricky concept to understand. Enforced relaxation?
And now, back to the e-mail backlog. Sometimes, a little is more than enough.
O.
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