For the past week or so, I've wanted to post something about the saddening news that the author Terry Pratchett has been diagnosed with Altzheimers and to take the opportunity of saying how much I enjoy his work.
Some of you might not know Pratchett's work - this would tend to indicate that you are either someone who doesn't like the fantasy genre (a big group) or someone who has had their head down a rabbit hole for over twenty years (hopefully a small group, although meeting some people you have to wonder).
...Alternatively you could be one of those people who doesn't like the fantasy genre but reads JK Rowling and Philip Pullman novels claiming that they are not fantasy, and calling them something like 'magical realism' - a snobbish act of denial that makes them feel better about themselves. These people should really appear on some form of police register....
Back to Pratchett. Mr TP writes funny and accessible books that both satirise the excess of the fantasy genre (the silly names, the dramatic conventions, the gender inequalities and so forth) and yet also uses the fantasy genre to examine our own history, morals and attitudes. Ironically, the most popular character in his books is probably Death. But TP's death is a grim reaper with some very human failings (especially a love of cats).
It's become rather popular to have ago at TPs books and readership - a lot of people see him as a wannabe Rowling (despite the fact he's been writing far longer). The literary elite such as Late Review and, more recently, the normally placid Stephen Fry have also laid into both the books and the fans but it's difficult to see why - TPs books are not great literature but then he's never claimed to produce great literature. What he has produced are books that are relatively short, funny and enjoyable to read but, like the best humour writing, also manage to touch on human emotions and failings. Scratch beneath the surface in some of the more recent works and you'll also find quite a lot of intelligent research behind the parody.
Although Pratchett's books don't have the full power of publishing's marketing giants behind them they are still the second most popular series in Britain after those of JK. His books have given me a lot of pleasure over the years and they've also given me support as a schoolchild, as a student and as an adult. As someone who has lost a few loved ones over the years I have also derived a great deal of solace from the idea of death as a skeletal and vaguely eccentric cat lover.
I actually met the great man myself at a book signing where he asked how I spelled my first name. When I told him that I 'd though that there was only one way of spelling my name he looked at me, sighed and said "You'd be surprised. Having done these things as long as I have, I've learned that there are also about 50 different ways of spelling 'Bob'".
Of course, TP has been at great pains to point out on websites that "he isn't dead" and that he still hopes to write despite his illness. He's also stated that:
"it's a very human thing to say "Is there anything I can do", but in this case I would only entertain offers from very high-end experts in brain chemistry".
Fair enough, so i'd just like to use this blog to wish TP all the best.
Tuesday 18 December 2007
Sunday 2 December 2007
Guess WHO came to the museum...
This weekend is the 150th anniversary of the opening of the museum where I work at it's current site (the museum is acyually 160 years old this year). To celebrate we had a Time Travel themed event in the building and I thought I'd share the photographs....
Tuesday 27 November 2007
November has come
298 days to go...
Blimey, haven't posted for a long time have I? I felt that I should really give it a rest as it was beginning to become the watcher's guide to Strictly come Dancing....
So, what has the geek been up to?
1. I'm very busy at work - we're currently going through Accreditation at my museum (a bit like an OFSTED report) so as far as the staff are concerned we're all running around like beheaded chickens. As I'm working on a 300+ page document at the moment my desire to type away at a keyboard when I get home has lessened somewhat (hence the recent dearth of posts).
2. I went to see Bill Bailey's new show 'Tinselworm' at the MEN arena. Very funny, although what was funnier was watching me try to eat a plastic cupful of ice cream with the smallest spoon known in Christendom in the interval.
(Actually it was before the show, but I just like typing the word interval because it's so velvety)
-34 is the ninth Fibonnaci number
-34 is the atomic number of selenium
-34 is the traffic code of Istanbul
-34 is the number of the street in the film 'Miracle on 34th Street' (obvious, really)
-34 is the international code for direct-dialling Spain
-34 is the prisoner number of the Count of Monte Cristo
5, Went to the Memorabilia show in Birmingham last weekend. You may not believe this coming from a self-confessed geek such as myself but it's the first time I've been to such a thing. Definitely the most fun you can have with a laser screwdriver!
To give you a taste of the sci-fi goodness of it all here is a photo of myself and Tallulah being menaced by stormtroopers (one of which is a lady stormtrooper):
Blimey, haven't posted for a long time have I? I felt that I should really give it a rest as it was beginning to become the watcher's guide to Strictly come Dancing....
So, what has the geek been up to?
1. I'm very busy at work - we're currently going through Accreditation at my museum (a bit like an OFSTED report) so as far as the staff are concerned we're all running around like beheaded chickens. As I'm working on a 300+ page document at the moment my desire to type away at a keyboard when I get home has lessened somewhat (hence the recent dearth of posts).
2. I went to see Bill Bailey's new show 'Tinselworm' at the MEN arena. Very funny, although what was funnier was watching me try to eat a plastic cupful of ice cream with the smallest spoon known in Christendom in the interval.
(Actually it was before the show, but I just like typing the word interval because it's so velvety)
While I'm on the subject, please allow me to direct you to Bill Bailey's fantastic new site which can be found here: http://www.billbailey.co.uk/
3. I went to see the turner prize entrants at the Liverpool Tate. Fairly un-controversial this time around and I don't know whether I'm disappointed at that.
4. It was my birthday on the 21st (hurrah) and I am now 34. Some colleagues have already told me that this means that I am middle-aged next year (boo). I say that that is all just a load of mathematical nonsense (and tedious nonsense at that) so as a public service here are some other things you can tell me about the number 34 to avoid boring me in future.-34 is the ninth Fibonnaci number
-34 is the atomic number of selenium
-34 is the traffic code of Istanbul
-34 is the number of the street in the film 'Miracle on 34th Street' (obvious, really)
-34 is the international code for direct-dialling Spain
-34 is the prisoner number of the Count of Monte Cristo
5, Went to the Memorabilia show in Birmingham last weekend. You may not believe this coming from a self-confessed geek such as myself but it's the first time I've been to such a thing. Definitely the most fun you can have with a laser screwdriver!
To give you a taste of the sci-fi goodness of it all here is a photo of myself and Tallulah being menaced by stormtroopers (one of which is a lady stormtrooper):
Friday 2 November 2007
In the Most Strictly Confidence II
323 days and counting.....
Heaven forfend that this blog should become a running commentary on Strictly Come Dancing but Spanglepuss has indicated to me that I should comment on the furore that seems to have been generated by the result last weekend.
For those of you with better things to do (i.e. everyone but me - well, actually I do have better things to do but it's a good displacement activity) what happened on the last round of Strictly Come Dancing is that two good dancers got the lowest score overall and one of the likely prospects to win (Gaby Logan) got voted out.
(Oh, and one of the other dancing couples performed one lift more than they were allowed and got top marks. This is apparently a crime on a par with genocide if you're a ballroom dancer).
Some people seem shocked by this. Other people think that it is a tragedy.
I think that it's great simply because it shows that no matter how weighted the contest has become in favour of a particular outcome the great British public can always do something completely random.
This is a good thing, people!
All in all it's probably not surprising that two tall, thin, attractive blonde women didn't attract many public votes from a largely female audience. I leave you to decide why this might be and it will be interesting to see how the other good dancer who obviously had little public support last week - Penny "What first attracted you to millionaire Rod Stewart?" Lancaster Stewart - does from now on.
Blessed are the Geek!
Heaven forfend that this blog should become a running commentary on Strictly Come Dancing but Spanglepuss has indicated to me that I should comment on the furore that seems to have been generated by the result last weekend.
For those of you with better things to do (i.e. everyone but me - well, actually I do have better things to do but it's a good displacement activity) what happened on the last round of Strictly Come Dancing is that two good dancers got the lowest score overall and one of the likely prospects to win (Gaby Logan) got voted out.
(Oh, and one of the other dancing couples performed one lift more than they were allowed and got top marks. This is apparently a crime on a par with genocide if you're a ballroom dancer).
Some people seem shocked by this. Other people think that it is a tragedy.
I think that it's great simply because it shows that no matter how weighted the contest has become in favour of a particular outcome the great British public can always do something completely random.
This is a good thing, people!
All in all it's probably not surprising that two tall, thin, attractive blonde women didn't attract many public votes from a largely female audience. I leave you to decide why this might be and it will be interesting to see how the other good dancer who obviously had little public support last week - Penny "What first attracted you to millionaire Rod Stewart?" Lancaster Stewart - does from now on.
Blessed are the Geek!
Saturday 20 October 2007
Homosexual Headmasters!
(336 days to go....)
I've just heard a news report that JK Rowling has confirmed that the character of Dumbledore (of Harry Potter fame) is, in fact, gay.
A few points come to mind:
a) Why does this matter?
b) How very brave of J K Rowling to reveal this not in the book itself but as an afterthought in an interview long after the final book of the series has been published. Yet another example of old JK shying away from anything remotely challenging.
c) This is going to make Stephen Fry (who narrates the books on CD) very happy.
Unfortunately this news may go some way to confirming a number of commonly held beliefs about private boarding schools.
Personally I always thought Harry Potter was gay, or at least confused about his sexuality. He does seem to spend a lot of time in an all-male dormitory playing with his wand.
Harry may (SPOILER ALERT) end up with Ginny but I think it's Ron he wanted all along.....
I've just heard a news report that JK Rowling has confirmed that the character of Dumbledore (of Harry Potter fame) is, in fact, gay.
A few points come to mind:
a) Why does this matter?
b) How very brave of J K Rowling to reveal this not in the book itself but as an afterthought in an interview long after the final book of the series has been published. Yet another example of old JK shying away from anything remotely challenging.
c) This is going to make Stephen Fry (who narrates the books on CD) very happy.
Unfortunately this news may go some way to confirming a number of commonly held beliefs about private boarding schools.
Personally I always thought Harry Potter was gay, or at least confused about his sexuality. He does seem to spend a lot of time in an all-male dormitory playing with his wand.
Harry may (SPOILER ALERT) end up with Ginny but I think it's Ron he wanted all along.....
Thursday 18 October 2007
In the most Strictly Confidence....
338 days to go....
Apologies for not having updated for a couple of weeks but I have a mistress and that mistress' name is Facebook. I've got an inkling that there will soon be support groups up and down the country.
Anyway, I wanted to blog because I think that it is time that people that write blogs should stand up and be counted.
It has come to my attention that on the world stage a group of people have found themselves newly oppressed by an uncaring regime. This has caused much unrest and has attracted a great deal of attention from the British media.
I'm talking, of course, of the new voting system on 'Strictly Come Dancing'.
(Burma? Where's Burma?)
Those of you who know me will realise that Strictly Come Dancing is one of my secret shames. Those of you who know me better will realise that few of my shames are actually shameful and even fewer are actually secret.
What can I say? I don't know whether it's the sequins, the glamour or the all encompassing campness of it all but I love a bit of Strictly.
But all this has potentially been ruined by the fact that under new voting rules the judges have been awarded powers exceeding their office.
Under the old regime the judges (three men of varying campness and an embittered old trout in need of HRT) could only decide 50% of the marks and the general public the other 50%. The lowest scoring dancers being eliminated.
Under the new scheme there is the old 50/50 split and then the judges get to pick which of the two dancing couples with the lowest score leaves (they billed this choice as the "judges choosing to save a couple" but they are really choosing who goes).
Unfortunately this means that we will no longer get the totally random acts of capriciousness that made the show a hit in the first place.
One can be reasonably sure who is going to be voted out each week and I can't help thinking that the amount of phone votes will go down as people realise that their votes don't actually count for much (which is bad as this generates money for Children in Need).
Is this the start of a new reign of terror? Do these ex-choreographers and ballroom dancer intend to stage a coup and rule the country with an iron (and yet sequined) fist? Will their choreograpphed troops soon be marching down YOUR street? Only time will tell.
Apologies for not having updated for a couple of weeks but I have a mistress and that mistress' name is Facebook. I've got an inkling that there will soon be support groups up and down the country.
Anyway, I wanted to blog because I think that it is time that people that write blogs should stand up and be counted.
It has come to my attention that on the world stage a group of people have found themselves newly oppressed by an uncaring regime. This has caused much unrest and has attracted a great deal of attention from the British media.
I'm talking, of course, of the new voting system on 'Strictly Come Dancing'.
(Burma? Where's Burma?)
Those of you who know me will realise that Strictly Come Dancing is one of my secret shames. Those of you who know me better will realise that few of my shames are actually shameful and even fewer are actually secret.
What can I say? I don't know whether it's the sequins, the glamour or the all encompassing campness of it all but I love a bit of Strictly.
But all this has potentially been ruined by the fact that under new voting rules the judges have been awarded powers exceeding their office.
Under the old regime the judges (three men of varying campness and an embittered old trout in need of HRT) could only decide 50% of the marks and the general public the other 50%. The lowest scoring dancers being eliminated.
Under the new scheme there is the old 50/50 split and then the judges get to pick which of the two dancing couples with the lowest score leaves (they billed this choice as the "judges choosing to save a couple" but they are really choosing who goes).
Unfortunately this means that we will no longer get the totally random acts of capriciousness that made the show a hit in the first place.
One can be reasonably sure who is going to be voted out each week and I can't help thinking that the amount of phone votes will go down as people realise that their votes don't actually count for much (which is bad as this generates money for Children in Need).
Is this the start of a new reign of terror? Do these ex-choreographers and ballroom dancer intend to stage a coup and rule the country with an iron (and yet sequined) fist? Will their choreograpphed troops soon be marching down YOUR street? Only time will tell.
Monday 1 October 2007
Blessings be upon this geek!
Just wanted to share with you this image which I wanted to use as my title picture. Having spent half an hour cooking it up on GIMP...
(the GIMP is my freeware image editing software and not my bondage partner, he comes on thursdays)
...I then found that I can't use it as a title picture as it is too big.
Curses!
Oh, and you just have to see this website http://merzo.net/1cmpp.htm - the ultimate geek reference. Study it well - they'll be a test later.
Blessed are the Geek!
Friday 28 September 2007
Leaving cards are such sweet sorrow...
Not much to report from geekville as I have been involved in a single project at work for the whole week.
Although....having had to write at least two leaving cards this week I find myself wondering if there is anyone on the face of the planet who doesn't face writers block when faced with one.
The card has always been around several other people before it gets to you and the usual suspects are all taken.
You are forced into the predicament of choosing either to:
a) write something that you think is funny but which actually makes you sound like a dork. Regular readers of this blog will observe that this doesn't overly bother me.
or
b) write something bland, banal and inoffensive which implies that you actually hated the person who is leaving all along.
I'm sure that William Shakespeare had this problem and would hide behind the photocopier whenever Susan from accounts came around with a card and a jingling envelope.
(Notice in this that my lack of awareness is coupled with a shallow understanding of the technological development of 16th century Britain).
Blessed are the Geek!
Although....having had to write at least two leaving cards this week I find myself wondering if there is anyone on the face of the planet who doesn't face writers block when faced with one.
The card has always been around several other people before it gets to you and the usual suspects are all taken.
You are forced into the predicament of choosing either to:
a) write something that you think is funny but which actually makes you sound like a dork. Regular readers of this blog will observe that this doesn't overly bother me.
or
b) write something bland, banal and inoffensive which implies that you actually hated the person who is leaving all along.
I'm sure that William Shakespeare had this problem and would hide behind the photocopier whenever Susan from accounts came around with a card and a jingling envelope.
(Notice in this that my lack of awareness is coupled with a shallow understanding of the technological development of 16th century Britain).
Blessed are the Geek!
Monday 24 September 2007
'Autumnal' is a nice word, so is 'meridian'...
T-minus 362 days until the big day....
Well, it appears that I've got my wish and autumn is upon us....
(My sister has recently revealed to me that 'autumnal' is her favourite word. I have to admit that it's a good word although personally I've always had a soft spot for 'meridian').
Had my first opportunity to legitimately wear my new winter coat today and have to admit that it felt good. Gloves were, unfortunately, not quite such a legitimate option and so my not-so-tiny hands were frozen as I awaited my commuter train this cold September morning.
I've spent a quiet weekend whilst Tallulah and I replenished our meagre store of groceries - having largely survived on fast food and the more experimental end of my cookery repertoire since we got back from Amsterdam.
Biggest trauma of the weekend came when I had to stop myself purchasing a large scale Cyberman model that had been reduced at TK MAXX on Saturday (curse myself for having the strength to resist some Sci-Fi tat). I consoled myself with the thought that the 14 points of articulation it possessed is not so much (I believe that I have at least 44).
Tallulah had a similar traumatic experience when faced by a large scale David Tennant doll in Tesco and had to rationalise her rejection on the basis that he was pigeon chested (the doll, not David Tennant)
Film recommendation of the weekend would be 'Run Fatboy Run' which is reasonably amusing and deserves to be seen if only because it involves a) Dylan Moran's bottom and b) a bakery called 'Libby's Lovely Buns'.
I shall end this post now before it probes even more posteriors.
Blessed are the Geek!
Well, it appears that I've got my wish and autumn is upon us....
(My sister has recently revealed to me that 'autumnal' is her favourite word. I have to admit that it's a good word although personally I've always had a soft spot for 'meridian').
Had my first opportunity to legitimately wear my new winter coat today and have to admit that it felt good. Gloves were, unfortunately, not quite such a legitimate option and so my not-so-tiny hands were frozen as I awaited my commuter train this cold September morning.
I've spent a quiet weekend whilst Tallulah and I replenished our meagre store of groceries - having largely survived on fast food and the more experimental end of my cookery repertoire since we got back from Amsterdam.
Biggest trauma of the weekend came when I had to stop myself purchasing a large scale Cyberman model that had been reduced at TK MAXX on Saturday (curse myself for having the strength to resist some Sci-Fi tat). I consoled myself with the thought that the 14 points of articulation it possessed is not so much (I believe that I have at least 44).
Tallulah had a similar traumatic experience when faced by a large scale David Tennant doll in Tesco and had to rationalise her rejection on the basis that he was pigeon chested (the doll, not David Tennant)
Film recommendation of the weekend would be 'Run Fatboy Run' which is reasonably amusing and deserves to be seen if only because it involves a) Dylan Moran's bottom and b) a bakery called 'Libby's Lovely Buns'.
I shall end this post now before it probes even more posteriors.
Blessed are the Geek!
Thursday 20 September 2007
Anti (or Ante) Wedding Anniversary
Hurrah, hurrah for today is my Anti Wedding Anniversary.
I feel I should stress here that I do not mean Anti Wedding in the way that one is Anti-smoking or Anti-drinking.
I mean anti in the way that Antimatter is the equal and opposite of matter for today is one year or 366 days until Tallulah and I get married!
(This is probably an unsound analogy in physics terms and if there are any Quantum Physicists reading this I heartily apologise - while at the same time asking why the hell you're reading this and not developing warp drives or finding a way to accurately calculate restaurant bills).
Perhaps Ante-Wedding Anniversary is a better term.
You may be able to tell from this that I have already imbibed more than enough champagne (it doesn't take much) and are about to depart for happy sleepy land.
Apparently the first Wedding Anniversary is paper and so on this Ante-Wedding Anniversary day Tallulah and I should (by the laws of physics) take a piece of paper off each other.
Anyway, here is the Geek starting our official wedding fund:
and here is the geek trying a tricky backwards starting the wedding fund manoeuvre...
Here is a photo of Tallulah starting the wedding fund in a more sensible way...
Blessed are the Geek!
Tuesday 18 September 2007
Amsterdamned Part Two....
Where was I? Oh yes, I was over here in the corner (in the spotlight and very probably losing my religion into the bargain).
As I was saying (before I was so rudely interrupted by the need for sleep) Tallulah and I have recently returned from a trip to the beautiful city of Amsterdam.
While there we visited a great many famous sights including the Rijksmuseum, Van Gogh museum and the moving (and also surprisingly hopeful) Anne Frank House. A substantial amount of eggs and cheese were also consumed during the visit - these are apparently the cornerstones of Dutch cuisine which has led me to theorise that the Dutch are actually descended from the Welsh.
(Further evidence for this theory can be found in the fact that the Netherlands, alone amongst its European neighbours, produces a large number of rugby players and male voice choirs.)
As I was saying (before I was so rudely interrupted by the need for sleep) Tallulah and I have recently returned from a trip to the beautiful city of Amsterdam.
While there we visited a great many famous sights including the Rijksmuseum, Van Gogh museum and the moving (and also surprisingly hopeful) Anne Frank House. A substantial amount of eggs and cheese were also consumed during the visit - these are apparently the cornerstones of Dutch cuisine which has led me to theorise that the Dutch are actually descended from the Welsh.
(Further evidence for this theory can be found in the fact that the Netherlands, alone amongst its European neighbours, produces a large number of rugby players and male voice choirs.)
I would now like to present to you a photograph entitled: "The importance of not building a house when you have partaken of too much Dutch Gin". This will give you a flavour of our holiday in Amsterdam.
Monday 17 September 2007
Amsterdamned!
I want to tell you a story about tulips.
Once upon a time there was an old Dutch man who grew the most fabulous tulips. The other tulip growers were jealous of his abilities and of the fabulous tulips he grew and so they constantly pestered him for his secret.
After many years one of the other tulip growers, let's call him Frederick (although his name was Maximilian) decided to discover the secret of these masterful blooms for himself and so he followed the old man out to the tulip fields and watched what he did.
When the old man arrived at the fields he went into a rickety shed which was full of cages. The cages were all full of hamsters and the old man would pull out half a dozen of the fattest of these, stuff them in a blender and turn it on. After turning the defenceless little rodents into puree he would take the resulting gloop and spread it on the tulip fields.
The horrified Frederick witnessed all this and ran back to the other tulip growers to report.
"What is the old man's secret?" they asked Frederick "Why are his tulips so great".
Frederick replied "I'm afraid that the tulips we grow will never compare with his, because his tulips come from Hamster-Jam!"
(roll of drums and strike on the cymbal)
All of which is a very drawn out way of saying that Blessedarethegeek and Tallulah have just returned from a week in the beautiful city of Amsterdam.
More on this in the next post.
(and can I take this opportunity to say that recently a lot of people in what we term consensus reality have mentioned that they read this blog - the fools - but don't ever post comment. To these people I say: please do comment, even if it's to say that the blog is rubbish. Obviously I can't take criticism or anything, but you should know this by now).
Sunday 9 September 2007
Geeks of the world unite, you have nothing to lose but your lightsabers!
Greetings.
I want to draw your attention to a very old problem that we've not yet been able to sweep from our society.
The problem is called geekism.
Many other isms - racism, sexism ageism - are thankfully in decline as people are finding their age-old prejudices challenged on a regular basis.
Unfortunately it is still socially permissible to discriminate against people on the basis that they play dungeons and dragons, are able to recite obscure Doctor Who plot points from memory and know how to do a Vulcan salute.
I'd hoped that we'd got over this sometime in the nineties with the cross over success of the X-Files and (more recently) Harry Potter and Heroes perhaps indicating to people that genre is not without merit, but it still seems to be a problem in some sectors. I've encountered at least two instances over the past week when the old jokes have been trotted out in the media - i.e. geeks have no girlfriends, geeks all live with their mothers etc.
Had this been any other minority then the broadcasters in question would have been castigated for their stereotyping - but not with anti-geekism.
Like any despised minority we have our meeting places - Gamestation and Forbidden Planet being two of the most important - but we don't yet have our own subculture.
We need geek newsletters that list geek clubs
We need more geek-friendly pubs and b&bs and, in larger cities, geek villages.
We need more prominent celebrities to out themselves on national TV admitting that they've been living a lie and are actually fans of Babylon 5 and Blakes 7.
We need geek pride weekends and geek pride marches in which we walk down the street, humming the imperial theme to Star Wars (You know - it goes DUM DUM DUM DUMDEE DUM DUMDEE DUM)
Women's rights and gay rights have come on so far in recent years but geek rights are, as yet, not recognised in this country.
So I say to you all: let us rise forth from our hidden places, take up our lightsabers and sonic screwdrivers and march on Number 10 in order to force Mr Brown to make Britain a geekier place!
Say it once, say it loud - I'M A GEEK AND I'M PROUD!!!
I want to draw your attention to a very old problem that we've not yet been able to sweep from our society.
The problem is called geekism.
Many other isms - racism, sexism ageism - are thankfully in decline as people are finding their age-old prejudices challenged on a regular basis.
Unfortunately it is still socially permissible to discriminate against people on the basis that they play dungeons and dragons, are able to recite obscure Doctor Who plot points from memory and know how to do a Vulcan salute.
I'd hoped that we'd got over this sometime in the nineties with the cross over success of the X-Files and (more recently) Harry Potter and Heroes perhaps indicating to people that genre is not without merit, but it still seems to be a problem in some sectors. I've encountered at least two instances over the past week when the old jokes have been trotted out in the media - i.e. geeks have no girlfriends, geeks all live with their mothers etc.
Had this been any other minority then the broadcasters in question would have been castigated for their stereotyping - but not with anti-geekism.
Like any despised minority we have our meeting places - Gamestation and Forbidden Planet being two of the most important - but we don't yet have our own subculture.
We need geek newsletters that list geek clubs
We need more geek-friendly pubs and b&bs and, in larger cities, geek villages.
We need more prominent celebrities to out themselves on national TV admitting that they've been living a lie and are actually fans of Babylon 5 and Blakes 7.
We need geek pride weekends and geek pride marches in which we walk down the street, humming the imperial theme to Star Wars (You know - it goes DUM DUM DUM DUMDEE DUM DUMDEE DUM)
Women's rights and gay rights have come on so far in recent years but geek rights are, as yet, not recognised in this country.
So I say to you all: let us rise forth from our hidden places, take up our lightsabers and sonic screwdrivers and march on Number 10 in order to force Mr Brown to make Britain a geekier place!
Say it once, say it loud - I'M A GEEK AND I'M PROUD!!!
Monday 27 August 2007
Sinister pedicure...
I'd like to present you with the following tribute to the Daniel Day Lewis film 'My Left Foot'.
I feel that I have managed to convey the complex psychological pain of the film (being somewhat of a complex psychological pain myself).
I feel that I have managed to convey the complex psychological pain of the film (being somewhat of a complex psychological pain myself).
Friday 24 August 2007
Summertime and the moaning is easy....
My bad move of the week has to be the purchase a new winter coat a couple of days before the summer heatwave finally appears. D'oh!
I've reached the conclusion that I can't do hot weather and furthermore I've never really seen the point of hot weather. I like brisk cold days or pleasant warm ones but the kind of days where you can't really do anything more than laze around...well that's not for me.
(Not because I'm in any way active - I can laze around in all climes and I don't need to wait until a socially acceptable climate asserts itself)
I'll admit that it's not been _that_ hot over the past couple of days but forecasters have prophesied a hot weekend I just want to tell the weather gods that its too little, too late and I'm no longer in that 'wanting hot weather' place anymore. Been there, done that, ate the burger and choreographed the musical.
Lets just put summer 2007 down to experience and crack on with autumn, shall we?
I've reached the conclusion that I can't do hot weather and furthermore I've never really seen the point of hot weather. I like brisk cold days or pleasant warm ones but the kind of days where you can't really do anything more than laze around...well that's not for me.
(Not because I'm in any way active - I can laze around in all climes and I don't need to wait until a socially acceptable climate asserts itself)
I'll admit that it's not been _that_ hot over the past couple of days but forecasters have prophesied a hot weekend I just want to tell the weather gods that its too little, too late and I'm no longer in that 'wanting hot weather' place anymore. Been there, done that, ate the burger and choreographed the musical.
Lets just put summer 2007 down to experience and crack on with autumn, shall we?
Monday 20 August 2007
Haven't visited here for a while....
Greetings gentle reader,
As you may have noticed Blessedarethe geek has been off air for almost a month. It has been both a quiet and a busy month in many ways.
The truth is that tallulah has been indisposed and away from work for weeks now and I haven't really wanted to sneak off of an evening and pour my random brain drippings into this blog and leave her alone and bored out of her skull (she's spending enough of her time in that state at the moment, especially with daytime TV to contend with). As a result I've tried to spend less time with my Pentium enhanced colleague recently - whether it's harassing orcs or tip tapping my thoughts onto various websites - as it's been a long overdue opportunity for me to concentrate on spending some time with my honey. So, gentle reader, you'll have to lie back and think of England while I ease myself back into this blog thing gradually (and with a certain amount of tenderness).
Last weekend was spent north of the border both with the prospective in laws and my sister. It was lovely - both my family and Tallulah's are lovely - but on these occasions a deeply paranoid person like myself cannot escape the dread feeling that something is going to go wrong at any moment. One is constantly tense that either family is going to withdraw their support on the basis of "what so-and-so said about so-and-so" despite the fact that both my family and Tallulah's are pretty laid back. Everyone knows that inter-familial disputes can be far more heartfelt and bloody than anything going on in the middle east.
Oh, and (despite the venom of the previous post) I've actually read the latest Harry Potter. It's actually not too bad because there is a) hardly any mention of quidditch and b) hardly any terminally dull boarding school shenanigans. There is much less padding than the last three books and JK finally appears to have got some balls - gone are the smug school heroics and 'stunt' deaths and instead some major characters are killed off or maimed left, right and centre although (SPOILER ALERT) most of the really annoying ones survive. Still, kudos to ol'JK for providing a children's book with the highest body count since Enid Blyton's ill fated "The Famous Five and the Thermonuclear device".
As you may have noticed Blessedarethe geek has been off air for almost a month. It has been both a quiet and a busy month in many ways.
The truth is that tallulah has been indisposed and away from work for weeks now and I haven't really wanted to sneak off of an evening and pour my random brain drippings into this blog and leave her alone and bored out of her skull (she's spending enough of her time in that state at the moment, especially with daytime TV to contend with). As a result I've tried to spend less time with my Pentium enhanced colleague recently - whether it's harassing orcs or tip tapping my thoughts onto various websites - as it's been a long overdue opportunity for me to concentrate on spending some time with my honey. So, gentle reader, you'll have to lie back and think of England while I ease myself back into this blog thing gradually (and with a certain amount of tenderness).
Last weekend was spent north of the border both with the prospective in laws and my sister. It was lovely - both my family and Tallulah's are lovely - but on these occasions a deeply paranoid person like myself cannot escape the dread feeling that something is going to go wrong at any moment. One is constantly tense that either family is going to withdraw their support on the basis of "what so-and-so said about so-and-so" despite the fact that both my family and Tallulah's are pretty laid back. Everyone knows that inter-familial disputes can be far more heartfelt and bloody than anything going on in the middle east.
Oh, and (despite the venom of the previous post) I've actually read the latest Harry Potter. It's actually not too bad because there is a) hardly any mention of quidditch and b) hardly any terminally dull boarding school shenanigans. There is much less padding than the last three books and JK finally appears to have got some balls - gone are the smug school heroics and 'stunt' deaths and instead some major characters are killed off or maimed left, right and centre although (SPOILER ALERT) most of the really annoying ones survive. Still, kudos to ol'JK for providing a children's book with the highest body count since Enid Blyton's ill fated "The Famous Five and the Thermonuclear device".
Saturday 21 July 2007
10 things I hate about Harry Potter....
Greetings gentle reader. I notice that bookshops and libraries up and down the country (at least, those not currently under six feet of water) are running 'Harry Potter' days to tie-in with the release of the latest Harry Potter volume. Never let it be said that the geek failed to join in - here is my own personal tribute to the bespectacled berk.
10 THINGS I HATE ABOUT HARRY POTTER
1. There are different covers for adults and for children.
How much of a snob do you have to be to buy a children's book in an adult cover to keep up appearances? Are we so insecure about what our fellow human beings think of us that we think that being seen reading the version with the children's cover will make us look childish?
And does anyone actually believe that the adult covers are fooling anyone?
2. It's basically Billy Bunter with wands
Let's face it, Hogwarts is a public school and a public boarding school at that. You can argue that there appear to be no actual tuition fees but there does seem to be an elitist selection process. So only people with magic powers are allowed to attend eh? Sounds like one of those single faith schools that have been attracting a lot of criticism for failing their increasingly insular pupils.
Charms and potions are all very well but what about Mathematics and English? Are Hogwarts students REALLY prepared for the outside world?
I wouldn't mind this but it all must be far removed from the everyday experience of most of the readers. What I'd like to see is Hogwarts comprehensive where the teachers find the threat of Voldemort is vastly preferable to the threat of an unsympathetic OFSTED report. Hermione has a pregnancy scare and Ron and Harry take time out of their glue-sniffing habit to experiment with homosexuality behind the bikesheds.
3. It's all so middle class
A book with a major character called 'Hermione' cannot be anything other than resolutely middle class. Harry might well live in a cupboard, but it is a decent cupboard of a well-to-do family in the suburbs.
It's worth pointing out that a major mode of transport in the Potter novels is Floo powder which allows wizards to travel from fireplace to fireplace. Just try that on a housing estate and see how far it gets you.
4. There is no technology
An odd one this. I'm no Potter scholar but I can't remember if the Internet, I-pods or texting with mobile phones make much of an appearance in the Potter milieu. This is strange, because they are becoming increasingly important to children.
I wonder if this is because technology and the modern world is something Potter readers (and, more importantly, their parents) also find threatening. Presumably, for the Daily Mail readers, there is less chance of children being groomed over Owl mail...
Best to avoid the modern world then and submerge yourself in a vaguely-defined Enid-Blytonesque anytime in the hope that it all goes away.
5. Quidditch
JK Rowling obviously noted that some children like sport and so to sucker in any sport loving children (not traditionally big readers) she invented a sporting element called Quidditch.
As a well thought out piece of background detail it's fine - but there are pages and pages describing Quidditch matches and I try to skip them if at all possible.
There is a reason why sports fiction is a) not a big publishing concern and b) tends to focus on the behind-the-scenes element of sport. This is because to describe a sporting contest is deeply, deeply boring.
Witness my attempt to describe a Grand Prix:
"Michael drive around the track, he drove around the track again, he drove around the track again a bit faster".
'nuff said. Sports literature sucks -whether it's mounted on a broomstick or not.
6. People who read Harry Potter often despise people who enjoy fantasy and science fiction.
I read fantasy literature. I've always been annoyed by the people who sneer at it - and it's even worse if they sneer at it and then pick up a copy of Harry Potter.
Harry Potter IS a series of fantasy novels.
In reading Harry Potter YOU ARE reading a fantasy novel.
For those of you who are reading Harry Potter and who once sneered at the sad people who read Tolkein and were into Dungeons and Dragons - congratulations, you are now one of us!
7. All children's fantasy books are now sold as being 'like Harry Potter'.
Even the noit exclusively children's literature Tery Pratchett has two sets of covers for his books. Will any children's fantasy book ever be published without the boy wizard raising his head?
8. Harry Potter fans who say that the books are a completely original and different concept to anything else out there.
10. Too much padding.
Books one to three were decent enough books. Despite their failings they were, at least, short and snappy....
...and then 'Goblet of Fire' happened and the subsequent books have been somewhat of a chore. There is a lot to be said for brevity but Rowling seems to going more for a "never mind the quality, feel the width" with several hundred pages and only a couple of chapters worth of plot.
We don't care about the Quidditch world cup, Harry's teenage angst, his abortive teenage love affairs, or the changes he is going through which make him speak in CAPITALS. Please, please, please...just get on with the story.
As ever, all opinions expressed are my own. I'll still read the last book (to judge it without doing so would be prejudice) and I'll probably even enjoy it.
I just wish I knew what all the fuss is about.
10 THINGS I HATE ABOUT HARRY POTTER
1. There are different covers for adults and for children.
How much of a snob do you have to be to buy a children's book in an adult cover to keep up appearances? Are we so insecure about what our fellow human beings think of us that we think that being seen reading the version with the children's cover will make us look childish?
And does anyone actually believe that the adult covers are fooling anyone?
2. It's basically Billy Bunter with wands
Let's face it, Hogwarts is a public school and a public boarding school at that. You can argue that there appear to be no actual tuition fees but there does seem to be an elitist selection process. So only people with magic powers are allowed to attend eh? Sounds like one of those single faith schools that have been attracting a lot of criticism for failing their increasingly insular pupils.
Charms and potions are all very well but what about Mathematics and English? Are Hogwarts students REALLY prepared for the outside world?
I wouldn't mind this but it all must be far removed from the everyday experience of most of the readers. What I'd like to see is Hogwarts comprehensive where the teachers find the threat of Voldemort is vastly preferable to the threat of an unsympathetic OFSTED report. Hermione has a pregnancy scare and Ron and Harry take time out of their glue-sniffing habit to experiment with homosexuality behind the bikesheds.
3. It's all so middle class
A book with a major character called 'Hermione' cannot be anything other than resolutely middle class. Harry might well live in a cupboard, but it is a decent cupboard of a well-to-do family in the suburbs.
It's worth pointing out that a major mode of transport in the Potter novels is Floo powder which allows wizards to travel from fireplace to fireplace. Just try that on a housing estate and see how far it gets you.
4. There is no technology
An odd one this. I'm no Potter scholar but I can't remember if the Internet, I-pods or texting with mobile phones make much of an appearance in the Potter milieu. This is strange, because they are becoming increasingly important to children.
I wonder if this is because technology and the modern world is something Potter readers (and, more importantly, their parents) also find threatening. Presumably, for the Daily Mail readers, there is less chance of children being groomed over Owl mail...
Best to avoid the modern world then and submerge yourself in a vaguely-defined Enid-Blytonesque anytime in the hope that it all goes away.
5. Quidditch
JK Rowling obviously noted that some children like sport and so to sucker in any sport loving children (not traditionally big readers) she invented a sporting element called Quidditch.
As a well thought out piece of background detail it's fine - but there are pages and pages describing Quidditch matches and I try to skip them if at all possible.
There is a reason why sports fiction is a) not a big publishing concern and b) tends to focus on the behind-the-scenes element of sport. This is because to describe a sporting contest is deeply, deeply boring.
Witness my attempt to describe a Grand Prix:
"Michael drive around the track, he drove around the track again, he drove around the track again a bit faster".
'nuff said. Sports literature sucks -whether it's mounted on a broomstick or not.
6. People who read Harry Potter often despise people who enjoy fantasy and science fiction.
I read fantasy literature. I've always been annoyed by the people who sneer at it - and it's even worse if they sneer at it and then pick up a copy of Harry Potter.
Harry Potter IS a series of fantasy novels.
In reading Harry Potter YOU ARE reading a fantasy novel.
For those of you who are reading Harry Potter and who once sneered at the sad people who read Tolkein and were into Dungeons and Dragons - congratulations, you are now one of us!
7. All children's fantasy books are now sold as being 'like Harry Potter'.
Even the noit exclusively children's literature Tery Pratchett has two sets of covers for his books. Will any children's fantasy book ever be published without the boy wizard raising his head?
8. Harry Potter fans who say that the books are a completely original and different concept to anything else out there.
Lets be honest here - there is are very few concepts in Harry Potter that haven't been done before. I'm not claiming JK Rowling stole any ideas, but merely that she's tapping into a milieu that children's authors and fantasy writers have been using for decades.
OK, lets run through a couple of examples. Harry Potter is a boy wizard with an owl who has the potential to be the greatest wizard ever (see Neil Gaiman's 'Books of Magic' - written years before Rowlings' series - about Tim Hunter, a boy wizard with an owl who has the potential to be the greatest wizard ever). Harry Attends a school of magic where he learns wizardry, flys around on a broomstick and has various run-ins with her teachers (see the 'Worst Witch' sequence of children's books - again written years beforehand - where a girl attends a school of witchcraft, flys around on broomstick and has various run-ins with her teachers). You can even find parallels between Tom Brown's schooldays and Harry Potter for god's sake.
I'll state once again that I'm in NO WAY suggesting Rowling has ripped off other authors - just that her books touch on ideas and themes that are very familiar to anyone who has ever read any children's or fantasy literature.
9. Harry Potter fans are always accusing other fantasy authors of ripping the series off.
This reached a nadir recently when I genuinely heard someone say that Lord of the Rings was obviously a Harry Potter rip-off. "I mean, look at the Nazgul - they are obviously a rip off of the dementors."
I've nothing but praise for what JK Rowling has achieved with her books, but to my knowledge she has yet to conquer the power of time travel and publish her books before 1937.
Terry Pratchett has also fallen foul of the criticism that he based his wizarding college Unseen University on Hogwarts and had to patiently explain that Unseen University appears in a book written 10 years before the Potter series (and is based on the Invisible College, which really existed and was much, much earlier).
10. Too much padding.
Books one to three were decent enough books. Despite their failings they were, at least, short and snappy....
...and then 'Goblet of Fire' happened and the subsequent books have been somewhat of a chore. There is a lot to be said for brevity but Rowling seems to going more for a "never mind the quality, feel the width" with several hundred pages and only a couple of chapters worth of plot.
We don't care about the Quidditch world cup, Harry's teenage angst, his abortive teenage love affairs, or the changes he is going through which make him speak in CAPITALS. Please, please, please...just get on with the story.
As ever, all opinions expressed are my own. I'll still read the last book (to judge it without doing so would be prejudice) and I'll probably even enjoy it.
I just wish I knew what all the fuss is about.
Tuesday 17 July 2007
Fevered brow...
Have been ill with the 'flu' for almost a week now. Normally the opportunity to sit and bed and read for hours on end would be very welcome. Unfortunately this has been coupled with an unfortunate tendency to produce snot.
Can anyone explain to me why I have been able to produce my own body weight in snot over the past four days? It has got to the stage where I have considered this to be some form of mutated birthing process and my snot to be my progeny and by blowing my nose into a tissue I launch my snot children into a cold and uncaring universe.
And yet however much snot I make I still seem to be able to make more. So far I've made both the clear 'original' variety and the new improved 'bilious green' flavour. I'm trying for black cherry or pomegranate any day now.
Anyhow, back to my sickbed
Can anyone explain to me why I have been able to produce my own body weight in snot over the past four days? It has got to the stage where I have considered this to be some form of mutated birthing process and my snot to be my progeny and by blowing my nose into a tissue I launch my snot children into a cold and uncaring universe.
And yet however much snot I make I still seem to be able to make more. So far I've made both the clear 'original' variety and the new improved 'bilious green' flavour. I'm trying for black cherry or pomegranate any day now.
Anyhow, back to my sickbed
Thursday 5 July 2007
Whither Rodrigo?
It's now a couple of weeks later and my neck has stabilized sufficiently in order for me to contemplate slow moshing, should the situation require it. As it's Tallulah's father's 70th birthday at the weekend I'd say the chances of the situation requiring it are sufficiently remote.
Yes, I'm spending the weekend in Bonnie Scotland (as opposed to spending the weekend in Bonnie Langford which would require some form of anaesthetic - although I'm not sure on who's part).
Have spent the past few days calming down after the emotional turmoil of a Doctor Who finale that didn't live up to expectations. It wasn't bad - I loved some bits - but Martha's departure didn't have the emotional impact of the regeneration at the end of season one or the departure of Rose at the end of season two. Turning our hero into Dobby the house elf then having him rejuvenated simply by people chanting 'Doctor' seemed a bit...well...contrived.
Still not sure what's happening with Martha next season and the news about Catherine Tate is, well, unsettling (and I like her) but I can console myself with the thought that even at it's weakest Doctor Who is better than 99% of anything else on television right now.
(and how much am I looking forward to 'Heroes'?)
Have just returned from seeing Monkey: Journey to the West, a fantastic Chinese opera by the minds behind 'Gorillaz'. A truly original and stunning piece of work (where else can you see women dressed as shrimps?). The highpoint (for me) being something I'm informed is 'silk choreography' i.e. acrobatics performed by a women suspended between two pieces of silk hung from the ceiling.
Given that the ex-front man of Blur has raised the bar with this when can we expect a similar effort from the Gallaghers? I hope to see an Inuit Ballet by Noel any day soon.
Incidentally - I seem to have a comment on my last post from a man called Rodrigo who appears to be selling teeshirts. How odd?
Yes, I'm spending the weekend in Bonnie Scotland (as opposed to spending the weekend in Bonnie Langford which would require some form of anaesthetic - although I'm not sure on who's part).
Have spent the past few days calming down after the emotional turmoil of a Doctor Who finale that didn't live up to expectations. It wasn't bad - I loved some bits - but Martha's departure didn't have the emotional impact of the regeneration at the end of season one or the departure of Rose at the end of season two. Turning our hero into Dobby the house elf then having him rejuvenated simply by people chanting 'Doctor' seemed a bit...well...contrived.
Still not sure what's happening with Martha next season and the news about Catherine Tate is, well, unsettling (and I like her) but I can console myself with the thought that even at it's weakest Doctor Who is better than 99% of anything else on television right now.
(and how much am I looking forward to 'Heroes'?)
Have just returned from seeing Monkey: Journey to the West, a fantastic Chinese opera by the minds behind 'Gorillaz'. A truly original and stunning piece of work (where else can you see women dressed as shrimps?). The highpoint (for me) being something I'm informed is 'silk choreography' i.e. acrobatics performed by a women suspended between two pieces of silk hung from the ceiling.
Given that the ex-front man of Blur has raised the bar with this when can we expect a similar effort from the Gallaghers? I hope to see an Inuit Ballet by Noel any day soon.
Incidentally - I seem to have a comment on my last post from a man called Rodrigo who appears to be selling teeshirts. How odd?
Sunday 24 June 2007
Crawling from the wreckage...
One has come to the conclusion that moshing past the age of... say... twenty is a dangerous pastime.
The evidence for this came this morning after Tallulah's birthday/our midsummer party (Many thanks to those of you who came - and those of you who didn't shame on you). Things were going well until about 1 o'clock when I discovered that someones mix tape included 'Walk this way' and the moshing began...
...today I am forced into the position of walking quite carefully so my head doesn't fall off. It hasn't yet but there is always the first time and if it DOES fall off I'm in dire straits as I didn't check on the box whether it was screw or bayonet fitting.
Anyway - to change the subject completely I have had a query from Spanglepuss in which she questions my Welshness -
Well, Spanglepuss, my grandmother was 100% Welsh and both she and my mother are called Gwyneth (My sister was almost called Myfanwy before sanity reigned). I spent a few weeks each summer with my welsh relatives every year until I was 10 and.... erm.... I like cheese and leeks and I once had a good singing voice. Welsh enough for you?
Changing the subject completely again - karma happened very quickly at the weekend after my last post complaining about emo kittens. My workplace was swamped with emo kids on Saturday and I can't help but think that it was organised retribution for my comments. I will therefore stop this thing in it's tracks and never again refer to emo kids again as 'goth-lite' in an effort to avoid an emo jihad.
The evidence for this came this morning after Tallulah's birthday/our midsummer party (Many thanks to those of you who came - and those of you who didn't shame on you). Things were going well until about 1 o'clock when I discovered that someones mix tape included 'Walk this way' and the moshing began...
...today I am forced into the position of walking quite carefully so my head doesn't fall off. It hasn't yet but there is always the first time and if it DOES fall off I'm in dire straits as I didn't check on the box whether it was screw or bayonet fitting.
Anyway - to change the subject completely I have had a query from Spanglepuss in which she questions my Welshness -
Well, Spanglepuss, my grandmother was 100% Welsh and both she and my mother are called Gwyneth (My sister was almost called Myfanwy before sanity reigned). I spent a few weeks each summer with my welsh relatives every year until I was 10 and.... erm.... I like cheese and leeks and I once had a good singing voice. Welsh enough for you?
Changing the subject completely again - karma happened very quickly at the weekend after my last post complaining about emo kittens. My workplace was swamped with emo kids on Saturday and I can't help but think that it was organised retribution for my comments. I will therefore stop this thing in it's tracks and never again refer to emo kids again as 'goth-lite' in an effort to avoid an emo jihad.
Sunday 17 June 2007
I'm told it's summer, but....
Greetings faithful reader.
Having been unceremoniously ejected from the not-yet marital bed for taking up too much room (I think that it's perfectly acceptable to emulate a starfish when asleep, don't you?). I thought I'd come and blog a bit.
I don't know what the weather is like in your part of the world but excepting yesterday it's been cold and wet, wet, wet for a week now. And not in a "love is all around" type fashion.
Our water feature was turned into a bog garden at great effort from myself and Tallulah using a big pile of dirt at the bottom of the garden. I was personally hoping to find a body there as the police would presumably have a better chance of tracking down the houses' previous tenants and at some point during the trial I could have raised the question of the cracks in the water feature as they were led away to jail.
The Big Brother avoidance has gone well - I've not watched any of it yet. It's particularly easy to avoid this year as the producers seem to have simply chosen tabloid fodder (I know you won't believe me when I say this, but this wasn't always so - up until the end of series 4 they would put some relatively intelligent people in but the producers found that the lack of idiots was affecting their cash cow).
I have, however, been watching the Apprentice and I have to say that I was shocked at the result. How a goggle-eyed upper class twerp that rents out rooms and lighting equipment to schools and who freezes with fear every five minutes is a better candidate than a hardworking sales manager and single mother I don't understand. I can only assume that Sir Alan needs someone who can speak toff.
Spanglepuss has been kind enough to send me a photograph of a historic condom which she wants me to post, so here it is: http://www.sciencemuseum.org.uk/objects/obstetrics_gynaecology_and_contraception/1989-865.aspx . I'm not sure why I've been sent this and I'm slightly concerned because another faithful reader has sent me a photograph of her (Spanglepuss's) boyfriend's bottom. Is there some kind of message here - a test for a newly engaged man to gauge his gay percentage?
If you're really interested I'd say that my gay percentage is about 20% raising to near 40% if I've been listening to a Russell T Davies podcast as that tends to make me slightly camp and welsh for a few hours (my Welsh percentage is normally about 25% but can peak at 50% in times of stress).
Ten ten till meet again.
Having been unceremoniously ejected from the not-yet marital bed for taking up too much room (I think that it's perfectly acceptable to emulate a starfish when asleep, don't you?). I thought I'd come and blog a bit.
I don't know what the weather is like in your part of the world but excepting yesterday it's been cold and wet, wet, wet for a week now. And not in a "love is all around" type fashion.
Our water feature was turned into a bog garden at great effort from myself and Tallulah using a big pile of dirt at the bottom of the garden. I was personally hoping to find a body there as the police would presumably have a better chance of tracking down the houses' previous tenants and at some point during the trial I could have raised the question of the cracks in the water feature as they were led away to jail.
The Big Brother avoidance has gone well - I've not watched any of it yet. It's particularly easy to avoid this year as the producers seem to have simply chosen tabloid fodder (I know you won't believe me when I say this, but this wasn't always so - up until the end of series 4 they would put some relatively intelligent people in but the producers found that the lack of idiots was affecting their cash cow).
I have, however, been watching the Apprentice and I have to say that I was shocked at the result. How a goggle-eyed upper class twerp that rents out rooms and lighting equipment to schools and who freezes with fear every five minutes is a better candidate than a hardworking sales manager and single mother I don't understand. I can only assume that Sir Alan needs someone who can speak toff.
Spanglepuss has been kind enough to send me a photograph of a historic condom which she wants me to post, so here it is: http://www.sciencemuseum.org.uk/objects/obstetrics_gynaecology_and_contraception/1989-865.aspx . I'm not sure why I've been sent this and I'm slightly concerned because another faithful reader has sent me a photograph of her (Spanglepuss's) boyfriend's bottom. Is there some kind of message here - a test for a newly engaged man to gauge his gay percentage?
If you're really interested I'd say that my gay percentage is about 20% raising to near 40% if I've been listening to a Russell T Davies podcast as that tends to make me slightly camp and welsh for a few hours (my Welsh percentage is normally about 25% but can peak at 50% in times of stress).
Ten ten till meet again.
Wednesday 30 May 2007
Depp and the Dodo
Greetings faithful peruser. You find geek in a relatively chipper mood today for he has had a productive weekend.
Went to see Pirates of the Caribbean: Worlds End last night - enjoyable but definitely overlong, it was the weakest of the three films. It would also really benefit from a betrayal-ometer in the top left-hand corner to keep a track of who was betraying whom to what end at any given time. The film also features a scene where all the roles are played by Johnny Depp - I add this detail as I know at least one reader will immediately want to go and see the film on this basis alone.
I seem to have spent an enormous amount of time staring at a Dodo derriere today. I've been pushing it around on a trolley - such laziness as one would imagine wealth to have come with such renown and the Dodo could probably afford a mobility cart.
Thanks to the contributor to my last post who suggested turning our water feature into a kitten skateboard park. This wins quite a lot of points for originality but loses a number for practicality. Do I really want lots of delinquent EMO kittens hanging around in my garden sniffing glue and giving me cheek? I don't think so!
Anyhoo I have to go and exercise all my willpower to stop myself from watching Big Brother. I have been BB clean for a year now (longer if you count the celebrity version) and I really think I might be able to repeat the trick.
Went to see Pirates of the Caribbean: Worlds End last night - enjoyable but definitely overlong, it was the weakest of the three films. It would also really benefit from a betrayal-ometer in the top left-hand corner to keep a track of who was betraying whom to what end at any given time. The film also features a scene where all the roles are played by Johnny Depp - I add this detail as I know at least one reader will immediately want to go and see the film on this basis alone.
I seem to have spent an enormous amount of time staring at a Dodo derriere today. I've been pushing it around on a trolley - such laziness as one would imagine wealth to have come with such renown and the Dodo could probably afford a mobility cart.
Thanks to the contributor to my last post who suggested turning our water feature into a kitten skateboard park. This wins quite a lot of points for originality but loses a number for practicality. Do I really want lots of delinquent EMO kittens hanging around in my garden sniffing glue and giving me cheek? I don't think so!
Anyhoo I have to go and exercise all my willpower to stop myself from watching Big Brother. I have been BB clean for a year now (longer if you count the celebrity version) and I really think I might be able to repeat the trick.
Friday 25 May 2007
Poorly sick
Greetings faithful reader. Poor little geek has been poorly sick for a few days and then managed to follow that up with a bout of toothache which has kept him more or less away from the keyboard for a couple of weeks now.
Pity poor geek.
Those of you eagerly awaiting news of our pond will experience a sense of smug satisfaction to learn that the Butyl Kryptonite (developed by Luthor industries and sold in water garden specialists everywhere) failed to work. We have decided that continuing to try and fix this water feature is, quite literally, throwing money into a hole and so we have decided to fill it in.
As a result I would like to through this open to suggestions from my loyal fanbase (both of you) as to what we can do with this exquisite hole in the ground. Any suggestions as to what we can do with several metres of rubber sheeting (beyond the obvious suggestions of S&M gear or incontinence pants) will also be gratefully received.
Pity poor geek.
Those of you eagerly awaiting news of our pond will experience a sense of smug satisfaction to learn that the Butyl Kryptonite (developed by Luthor industries and sold in water garden specialists everywhere) failed to work. We have decided that continuing to try and fix this water feature is, quite literally, throwing money into a hole and so we have decided to fill it in.
As a result I would like to through this open to suggestions from my loyal fanbase (both of you) as to what we can do with this exquisite hole in the ground. Any suggestions as to what we can do with several metres of rubber sheeting (beyond the obvious suggestions of S&M gear or incontinence pants) will also be gratefully received.
Thursday 10 May 2007
Pond scum...
I would like to offer you, my gentle readers, a cautionary tale and a piece of advice.
The advice is: stay away from water features.
Over a year ago Tallulah (three l's and an h) purchased a small house with a concrete channel (it would be somewhat of an exagerration to call it a pond) across the garden.
Said channel held water very nicely for a few months and then (as a result of an over enthusiastic power-washing [can we have it back if you're reading this, spanglepuss] and/or lawnmowing session) it sprung a leak.
Various pieces of advice were offered by friends and relatives and a couple of plans were tried with little success - apparently there is a difference between waterproof and water resistant, who'd have thought it?
So, Tallulah and I decided to take our plight to the experts.
I've now learned that a water feature expert (and this was news to me) is someone who can paraphrase the sentence "you could try it fixing it that way but it would be very expensive and probably wouldn't work" in at least 6 different ways in the course of a conversation.
It also appears that there is absolutely no way to fix a pond and if one ever springs a leak you might as well destoy it and start again. Pond recycling research is an area that appears to have been underfunded for a number of years - possibly along with re-usable condoms.
To cut what appears to be becoming a long story short Tallulah (three l's and an h) and I are going to try lining our frankly puny feature with something that I keep calling 'Butyl kryptonite' (it probably isn't called kryptonite but is about as expensive and difficult to find) and hope for the best.
I would also like to send a message out to all water feature experts everywhere:
Chill out.
Take a breather.
Have a long walk in the park, smell the flowers and just try to forget the relative inadequacies of non underlaid EPDN and PVC liners. It'll all work out, chaps!
Ona totally unrelated note - here is a webpage about installing a computer in a stuffed beaver http://www.engadget.com/2007/04/13/compubeaver-case-mod-the-pc-stuffed-beaver/
The advice is: stay away from water features.
Over a year ago Tallulah (three l's and an h) purchased a small house with a concrete channel (it would be somewhat of an exagerration to call it a pond) across the garden.
Said channel held water very nicely for a few months and then (as a result of an over enthusiastic power-washing [can we have it back if you're reading this, spanglepuss] and/or lawnmowing session) it sprung a leak.
Various pieces of advice were offered by friends and relatives and a couple of plans were tried with little success - apparently there is a difference between waterproof and water resistant, who'd have thought it?
So, Tallulah and I decided to take our plight to the experts.
I've now learned that a water feature expert (and this was news to me) is someone who can paraphrase the sentence "you could try it fixing it that way but it would be very expensive and probably wouldn't work" in at least 6 different ways in the course of a conversation.
It also appears that there is absolutely no way to fix a pond and if one ever springs a leak you might as well destoy it and start again. Pond recycling research is an area that appears to have been underfunded for a number of years - possibly along with re-usable condoms.
To cut what appears to be becoming a long story short Tallulah (three l's and an h) and I are going to try lining our frankly puny feature with something that I keep calling 'Butyl kryptonite' (it probably isn't called kryptonite but is about as expensive and difficult to find) and hope for the best.
I would also like to send a message out to all water feature experts everywhere:
Chill out.
Take a breather.
Have a long walk in the park, smell the flowers and just try to forget the relative inadequacies of non underlaid EPDN and PVC liners. It'll all work out, chaps!
Ona totally unrelated note - here is a webpage about installing a computer in a stuffed beaver http://www.engadget.com/2007/04/13/compubeaver-case-mod-the-pc-stuffed-beaver/
Tuesday 1 May 2007
Faster than a speeding Sciurus caroliniensis...
Those of you who know me will know that I have always harboured a fondness for weird taxidermy - I was gutted to have missed the opportunity to see Walter Potter's Museum of Curiosities in Cornwall with it's kitten weddings and monkeys riding goats.
I've always considered taxidermy as a viable alternative to burial or cremation in my own case. At least I could make myself useful - one could hang one's hat on my outstretched arm and park the front wheel of one's bicycle between my buttocks.
Well here is another one for the scrapbook. This was featured recently on the SFX website and I had to share. Enjoy.
http://cgi.ebay.co.uk/Taxidermy-Super-Squirrel_W0QQitemZ280110065134QQihZ018QQcategoryZ67212QQssPageNameZWDVWQQrdZ1QQcmdZViewItem#ebayphotohosting
I've always considered taxidermy as a viable alternative to burial or cremation in my own case. At least I could make myself useful - one could hang one's hat on my outstretched arm and park the front wheel of one's bicycle between my buttocks.
Well here is another one for the scrapbook. This was featured recently on the SFX website and I had to share. Enjoy.
http://cgi.ebay.co.uk/Taxidermy-Super-Squirrel_W0QQitemZ280110065134QQihZ018QQcategoryZ67212QQssPageNameZWDVWQQrdZ1QQcmdZViewItem#ebayphotohosting
Monday 30 April 2007
By the light of the silvery mobile...
Think of me, gentle reader as I type this. I am currently typing this by the light of a mobile phone as the light bulb in the computer room (okay, the spare room) does not seem to want to stay in the light fitting...
...No, really. I've tried three times and each and every time the light bulb has spent 45 seconds in the fitting before essaying a ricochet across the room. As Oscar Wilde put it "to have one bulb ricochet is unfortunate, two is mere carelessness and three is a subtle hint to fix your light fitting".
(This is one of Wilde's less well known sayings and generally gets left out of Wilde's complete works because of it's obscure nature. Wilde himself put it down to some dodgy asparagus he ate in Cambridgeshire).
As I write this I wonder whether this bulb activity is actually the result of some form of supernatural force trying to stop me writing this blog. In which case I would like to take this opportunity to say something to the supernatural world in general:
"GROW UP AND BEHAVE"
Yes, you might think it very clever to possess young girls, expelling ectoplasm from their nostrils and throwing chairs about the room but this kind of behaviour is simply not acceptable any more. Don't get me started on the atrocious spelling one finds when using a Ouija board these days.....
If you find yourself bound by death to walk a lonely road as one of the undead then why not read a good book, take a brisk walk or take up macrame?
...No, really. I've tried three times and each and every time the light bulb has spent 45 seconds in the fitting before essaying a ricochet across the room. As Oscar Wilde put it "to have one bulb ricochet is unfortunate, two is mere carelessness and three is a subtle hint to fix your light fitting".
(This is one of Wilde's less well known sayings and generally gets left out of Wilde's complete works because of it's obscure nature. Wilde himself put it down to some dodgy asparagus he ate in Cambridgeshire).
As I write this I wonder whether this bulb activity is actually the result of some form of supernatural force trying to stop me writing this blog. In which case I would like to take this opportunity to say something to the supernatural world in general:
"GROW UP AND BEHAVE"
Yes, you might think it very clever to possess young girls, expelling ectoplasm from their nostrils and throwing chairs about the room but this kind of behaviour is simply not acceptable any more. Don't get me started on the atrocious spelling one finds when using a Ouija board these days.....
If you find yourself bound by death to walk a lonely road as one of the undead then why not read a good book, take a brisk walk or take up macrame?
Wednesday 18 April 2007
Fizzy grape juice
Yet again I have failed to post for a few days on the basis that, now that I am engaged, I have to spend more time with my fiance making conversation and NOT spend half the night tip-tapping away my deepest thoughts into the electronic ether. Talk about not reading the instructions - someone could have warned me about this before!
A most enjoyable weekend, although it did not go the way that I expected.
Best laid plans of attending a gig fell through as the drummer had to fly home due to family crisis. We all stayed inside instead and I continued to hit the bubbly transparent stuff that, in the past few weeks, I have come to regard as "merely expensive water".
(Champagne, not Perrier. That IS merely expensive water).
Anyway, I had rather too many ales and seemed to spend much of the night trying to avoid conversations about musical instruments (of which I know nothing beyond which end you blow in a recorder) and watching Spanglepuss' new man shake his hips to the beat in a way that came dangerously close to 'turning' me .
As a result (of the booze, and not Spanglepuss' new man's hips) my head was thumping a merry tune on Sunday morning and so I stayed in bead drinking tea and reading about the Olmecs... I'll admit that's not much of a hangover cure but it works about as well as any other that I've heard about - you can take your oysters and 'hair of the dog', I'll take a hot cup of tea and some Central American civilisations any day.
Sunday was spent travelling around looking for somewhere that was cheap to go into but served tea (this is apparently impossible in Yorkshire - the attractively bluff Yorkshire manner seems eternally married to the less attractive trait of attempting to fleece all visitors for the heinous crime of not being from Yorkshire).
Monday was spent at the Doctor Who exhibition at which Tallulah (that's Tallulah and NOT ME you understand) got very excited at seeing David Tennant's long coat and I was forced to stop playing and get out of the walk-in Dalek after a rather long line of children formed behind me waiting for a go (wasted on kids, wasted...).
At which point I feel I should include a link to a website devoted to cats that look like Hitler
http://www.catsthatlooklikehitler.com/cgi-bin/seigmiaow.pl
A most enjoyable weekend, although it did not go the way that I expected.
Best laid plans of attending a gig fell through as the drummer had to fly home due to family crisis. We all stayed inside instead and I continued to hit the bubbly transparent stuff that, in the past few weeks, I have come to regard as "merely expensive water".
(Champagne, not Perrier. That IS merely expensive water).
Anyway, I had rather too many ales and seemed to spend much of the night trying to avoid conversations about musical instruments (of which I know nothing beyond which end you blow in a recorder) and watching Spanglepuss' new man shake his hips to the beat in a way that came dangerously close to 'turning' me .
As a result (of the booze, and not Spanglepuss' new man's hips) my head was thumping a merry tune on Sunday morning and so I stayed in bead drinking tea and reading about the Olmecs... I'll admit that's not much of a hangover cure but it works about as well as any other that I've heard about - you can take your oysters and 'hair of the dog', I'll take a hot cup of tea and some Central American civilisations any day.
Sunday was spent travelling around looking for somewhere that was cheap to go into but served tea (this is apparently impossible in Yorkshire - the attractively bluff Yorkshire manner seems eternally married to the less attractive trait of attempting to fleece all visitors for the heinous crime of not being from Yorkshire).
Monday was spent at the Doctor Who exhibition at which Tallulah (that's Tallulah and NOT ME you understand) got very excited at seeing David Tennant's long coat and I was forced to stop playing and get out of the walk-in Dalek after a rather long line of children formed behind me waiting for a go (wasted on kids, wasted...).
At which point I feel I should include a link to a website devoted to cats that look like Hitler
http://www.catsthatlooklikehitler.com/cgi-bin/seigmiaow.pl
Wednesday 11 April 2007
Champagne with eggs
Champagne with chocolate eggs can make a violent concoction as I've learnt to my cost this Easter weekend - the chocolate eggs give me the energy while the champagne took away the inclination to do anything with said energy other than sit in Tallulah's parent's conservatory and watch her nephew indulge in an egg hunt in the garden.
Much to my dismay there _were_ actually eggs to be found in the garden, thus squandering a perfect chance to teach the child some hard life lessons in disappointment and the lies adults tell. Wasted opportunity there, I feel.
Big weekend. Much discussion was had over impending wedding and Tallulah and I now have the wedding venue and registrar booked. Suggestions of a Las Vegas Drive-In wedding and my idea for a wedding meal centred around Turkey Twizzlers met with a somewhat frosty reception from the prospective in laws, but Tallulah and I have managed to choose a venue that lets us do what we want and run the day how we want it. (This appears to be a freakishly rare concept in terms of wedding venues).
To catch up in terms of geekish news from the past few weeks - Primeval has slunk away with it's tail between it's legs like a dog that knows it's master is home because Doctor Who has returned. Hurrah!
Liking the new series so far - David Tennant has cut back on the (very occasional) pantomime lapses of the last series and new assistant Martha is a confidant and energetic replacement for Rose. The series - always more of a science fantasy rather than science fiction - seems to be blurring the line between science fiction and fantasy even further (I've been fighting the urge to point this out for over a week now, but in episode one why does no-one even try to explain why a hospital transported to the moon has electrical power and full earth gravity? - I suppose it might explain it on the commentary).
Speaking of fantasy, last night I watched the final episode of 'Life on Mars'. Can I just say that I think this was the most fitting ending for a series that I have ever seen and satisfied me in a way that the ending of Buffy, Angel and the various Star Trek series never did. All the questions were answered (although, if you look at it another way, none of them were). I'm slightly concerned about the news that the BBC are making a 1980s spin off - the show was very much a one off story that had a distinct beginning , middle and end (not necessarily in that order) and a spin off could well dilute and detract from the strength of the original.
Oh, and I got a quote from my review of 'Shadow of the Torturer' published in the latest edition of SFX. (Only a sentence though).
Looking forward to this weekend as Tallulah and I are off to see a Spanglepuss' new beau's band with Whiskey Murrell and her significant other. I've been told to bring ear plugs and I've yet to work out whether that is a good thing.....
Much to my dismay there _were_ actually eggs to be found in the garden, thus squandering a perfect chance to teach the child some hard life lessons in disappointment and the lies adults tell. Wasted opportunity there, I feel.
Big weekend. Much discussion was had over impending wedding and Tallulah and I now have the wedding venue and registrar booked. Suggestions of a Las Vegas Drive-In wedding and my idea for a wedding meal centred around Turkey Twizzlers met with a somewhat frosty reception from the prospective in laws, but Tallulah and I have managed to choose a venue that lets us do what we want and run the day how we want it. (This appears to be a freakishly rare concept in terms of wedding venues).
To catch up in terms of geekish news from the past few weeks - Primeval has slunk away with it's tail between it's legs like a dog that knows it's master is home because Doctor Who has returned. Hurrah!
Liking the new series so far - David Tennant has cut back on the (very occasional) pantomime lapses of the last series and new assistant Martha is a confidant and energetic replacement for Rose. The series - always more of a science fantasy rather than science fiction - seems to be blurring the line between science fiction and fantasy even further (I've been fighting the urge to point this out for over a week now, but in episode one why does no-one even try to explain why a hospital transported to the moon has electrical power and full earth gravity? - I suppose it might explain it on the commentary).
Speaking of fantasy, last night I watched the final episode of 'Life on Mars'. Can I just say that I think this was the most fitting ending for a series that I have ever seen and satisfied me in a way that the ending of Buffy, Angel and the various Star Trek series never did. All the questions were answered (although, if you look at it another way, none of them were). I'm slightly concerned about the news that the BBC are making a 1980s spin off - the show was very much a one off story that had a distinct beginning , middle and end (not necessarily in that order) and a spin off could well dilute and detract from the strength of the original.
Oh, and I got a quote from my review of 'Shadow of the Torturer' published in the latest edition of SFX. (Only a sentence though).
Looking forward to this weekend as Tallulah and I are off to see a Spanglepuss' new beau's band with Whiskey Murrell and her significant other. I've been told to bring ear plugs and I've yet to work out whether that is a good thing.....
Thursday 5 April 2007
There will now be a short intermission...
Have I really not posted since March 19th?
Gosh, tempus fugit as the Romans very probably did not say. My dearth of posts has been down to two things...
Firstly I'm going through a very office-based phase at work at the moment and word processing when I get home has not been an attractive proposition. So much easier to pop on a computer game and kick ass.
Secondly, as the eagle eyed readers of my last post will know, I got engaged in march and the past few weeks have been full of the kind of discussion over venues and guest lists that causes an icy hand to clutch my bowels.
Normal service will be restored soon, I promise.
In the mean time here is a link to a fab Doctor Who game that'll keep you busy until my next post http://www.bbc.co.uk/doctorwho/advent06/flash/monstermatch.swf
Byeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee
Gosh, tempus fugit as the Romans very probably did not say. My dearth of posts has been down to two things...
Firstly I'm going through a very office-based phase at work at the moment and word processing when I get home has not been an attractive proposition. So much easier to pop on a computer game and kick ass.
Secondly, as the eagle eyed readers of my last post will know, I got engaged in march and the past few weeks have been full of the kind of discussion over venues and guest lists that causes an icy hand to clutch my bowels.
Normal service will be restored soon, I promise.
In the mean time here is a link to a fab Doctor Who game that'll keep you busy until my next post http://www.bbc.co.uk/doctorwho/advent06/flash/monstermatch.swf
Byeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee
Monday 19 March 2007
Rock my world
Well, that was exciting.
Those of you who are so bored that you've been reading these little missives will know that Tallulah and I went to Avebury last week on our annual use-up-our annual-leave break.
For those of you who don't know Avebury - it's a large stone circle and a world heritage site - see above pic:
Basically, imagine a bigger and more impressive version of Stonehenge that doesn't get the tourist trade because
a) it doesn't have the word 'stone' in the title
and
b) the Avebury builders couldn't be ars*d balancing rocks on top of one another like those flashy gits on Salisbury plain.
I've read that Stonehenge builders were real snobs and wouldn't give the Avebury builders the time of day. They would often sneer and look down on the Avebury builders because they wore unfashionable animal skins, ate the wrong kind of mud and used tools made out antlers from the wrong kind of deer.
I've read this mainly because I've just typed it.
Well, golly gosh. Now the Avebury chaps have got their own back because Avebury is an accessible and cherished part of it's own tiny community whereas Stonehenge is an isolated and inaccessible tourist trap with a mediocre gift shop. I bet the Stonehenge builders are turning in their funerary urns.
Before I get any messages from people who watch far too much 'Time Team' pointing out that Stonehenge and Avebury were built at different times and by people who didn't employ funerary urns I would draw your attention to the following points: Firstly - I don't care. Secondly - I really don't care. Thirdly - I really, really don't care.
(This has been an infomercial on the behalf of the blessedarethegeek "Stuff historical accuracy you beardie-weirdies!!!" campaign).
Anyway, Tallulah and I had a really great day in Avebury, hugging stones. Witness following pic of blessedarethegeek performing 80s pop star pose (with detail removed to protect my super identity):
Our day out in Avebury was followed by another day out in Bath and a visit to my family. The sky was blue and there was even an appearance by that beauteous blazing orb we know as the sun.
Oh yeah, Tallulah and I got engaged as well.
And on that tantalizing note, more soon...
Sunday 11 March 2007
Spring break - yeah!
Very excited today...
Firstly i'm excited because Tallulah and myself are off to Avebury tomorrow on what has become our annual using-up-of-annual-leave outing. Here's hoping that the sun shines (or at least makes an appearance) and the stones (which have stood the test of time for many thousands of years) don't fufill my nightmere scenario and choose this week to fall over, thus turning me into geek pizza.
Mmmmmm.....geek pizza.
Secondly i'm excited because the new Doctor Who teaser trailer has been released in the same week as I got free Doctor Who fridge magnets. Yes, it's only 14 seconds long (the trailer, not the magnets) but having spent the last few saturdays with only Primeval to console me I need some geeky goodness to look forward to.
Incidentally, for those of you who haven't seen it:
Stargate + Walking with Dinosaurs = Primeval
See the Who trailers here:
http://www.bbc.co.uk/doctorwho/index.shtml
Firstly i'm excited because Tallulah and myself are off to Avebury tomorrow on what has become our annual using-up-of-annual-leave outing. Here's hoping that the sun shines (or at least makes an appearance) and the stones (which have stood the test of time for many thousands of years) don't fufill my nightmere scenario and choose this week to fall over, thus turning me into geek pizza.
Mmmmmm.....geek pizza.
Secondly i'm excited because the new Doctor Who teaser trailer has been released in the same week as I got free Doctor Who fridge magnets. Yes, it's only 14 seconds long (the trailer, not the magnets) but having spent the last few saturdays with only Primeval to console me I need some geeky goodness to look forward to.
Incidentally, for those of you who haven't seen it:
Stargate + Walking with Dinosaurs = Primeval
See the Who trailers here:
http://www.bbc.co.uk/doctorwho/index.shtml
Thursday 8 March 2007
Hot Fuzzy Sunday
Just thought I'd post today to say that Tallulah and myself managed to catch 'Hot Fuzz' at the weekend and can heartily recommend it at the funniest film either of us have seen for a long time.
Sure, as the son of an Oxfordshire policeman the prospect of an action movie set in the Cotswolds was always going to inspire some sort of a reaction (good or bad) but the jokes came thick and fast and the comic detail was spot on - good to hear some proper Gloucestershire accents too!
Before seeing the film I had been rather worried by a mediocre review I'd read in a certain conservative tabloid (left behind, I might add, by a recent visitor to our household). Suffice to say, the newspaper in question probably reacted badly to the unsympathetic portrayal of Middle England reactionaries - which would seem to be this paper's target audience.
Now that Simon Pegg and Nick Frost have brought us a Zombie movie in London (Shaun of the Dead) and an Action flick in Gloucestershire (Hot Fuzz) has anyone got any ideas what they should do next?
Anyone for a teenage High School musical coming-of-age romp set on Orkney?
Part II of the Geeks progress coming soon.
Sure, as the son of an Oxfordshire policeman the prospect of an action movie set in the Cotswolds was always going to inspire some sort of a reaction (good or bad) but the jokes came thick and fast and the comic detail was spot on - good to hear some proper Gloucestershire accents too!
Before seeing the film I had been rather worried by a mediocre review I'd read in a certain conservative tabloid (left behind, I might add, by a recent visitor to our household). Suffice to say, the newspaper in question probably reacted badly to the unsympathetic portrayal of Middle England reactionaries - which would seem to be this paper's target audience.
Now that Simon Pegg and Nick Frost have brought us a Zombie movie in London (Shaun of the Dead) and an Action flick in Gloucestershire (Hot Fuzz) has anyone got any ideas what they should do next?
Anyone for a teenage High School musical coming-of-age romp set on Orkney?
Part II of the Geeks progress coming soon.
Wednesday 28 February 2007
The Geek's Progress - Part One
Well, hello again. Inspiration runs rather too short today and so I thought that I'd follow other blogs I've read and posting a little about myself in case there is anyone still reading this.
It never really occured to me to post anything about myself before - largely because I'm not much of a "me, me, me" kind of person and this blog was meant to be about the writings rather than the writer. Think of these biographical posts as the "about the author" notes at the back of the book.
I'm mostly male, somewhere between 6'1" and 6' 2" tall and 33 years of age (if you don't believe me, cut me in half and count the rings). Currently, a lot of my time is spent wondering what happened to my 20s.
I grew up in West Oxfordshire - which is rural and very beautiful in an Inspector Morse-ey kind of way but suffers from the usual tensions between it's established rural roots and it's new nouveau riche population.
Witney, my home town, was once centre of a now-vanished blanket industry. It's very pretty but it's Douglas Hurd's old constituency (and now David Cameron's base of operations) which makes it probably the safest Tory seat in Britain. This should give you a clue as to how dangerous, edgy and exciting it was to grow up there - particularly when, as in my case, your father is a well known local policeman. Some people are born square, others become squares while others have squareness thrust upon them.
I was educated at Henry Box school in Witney. Henry Box was a 17th century grocer who, my sister proudly pointed out in the Witney Gazette, has recently made it into the Oxford Dictionary of National Biography. Just imagine the otherworldly chagrin of all those other 17th century grocers who missed the grade this time around!
My school was a comprehensive with some grammar school pretensions/hangovers. I had pretty uneventful school days and I was lucky in that I was classed as not being bright enough to be "someone to watch" (i.e. Oxford or Cambridge Material) but not dumb enough to be "someone to ignore". Wielding dandruff , a lack of sporting ability and a full range of teenage personal hygiene issues as a form of protective camouflage I was never popular - but courting popularity is not something I've ever approved of.
Art was traditionally my strongest subject and in I always intended to become an artist but after disastrous GCSE Art results (damn my lack of preparatory sketches) I realised that I wasn't going to make it in the art world. I therefore decided that I would study History of Art at University instead.
At the time I told myself my choice of course was down to a desire to broaden my mind, learn a little about our visual culture and bring art to the masses (my mother had imbued me with a gentle form of socialism). As I look back now I realise that it was at least partially because such courses are traditionally full of women.
More soon (whether you like it or not).
It never really occured to me to post anything about myself before - largely because I'm not much of a "me, me, me" kind of person and this blog was meant to be about the writings rather than the writer. Think of these biographical posts as the "about the author" notes at the back of the book.
I'm mostly male, somewhere between 6'1" and 6' 2" tall and 33 years of age (if you don't believe me, cut me in half and count the rings). Currently, a lot of my time is spent wondering what happened to my 20s.
I grew up in West Oxfordshire - which is rural and very beautiful in an Inspector Morse-ey kind of way but suffers from the usual tensions between it's established rural roots and it's new nouveau riche population.
Witney, my home town, was once centre of a now-vanished blanket industry. It's very pretty but it's Douglas Hurd's old constituency (and now David Cameron's base of operations) which makes it probably the safest Tory seat in Britain. This should give you a clue as to how dangerous, edgy and exciting it was to grow up there - particularly when, as in my case, your father is a well known local policeman. Some people are born square, others become squares while others have squareness thrust upon them.
I was educated at Henry Box school in Witney. Henry Box was a 17th century grocer who, my sister proudly pointed out in the Witney Gazette, has recently made it into the Oxford Dictionary of National Biography. Just imagine the otherworldly chagrin of all those other 17th century grocers who missed the grade this time around!
My school was a comprehensive with some grammar school pretensions/hangovers. I had pretty uneventful school days and I was lucky in that I was classed as not being bright enough to be "someone to watch" (i.e. Oxford or Cambridge Material) but not dumb enough to be "someone to ignore". Wielding dandruff , a lack of sporting ability and a full range of teenage personal hygiene issues as a form of protective camouflage I was never popular - but courting popularity is not something I've ever approved of.
Art was traditionally my strongest subject and in I always intended to become an artist but after disastrous GCSE Art results (damn my lack of preparatory sketches) I realised that I wasn't going to make it in the art world. I therefore decided that I would study History of Art at University instead.
At the time I told myself my choice of course was down to a desire to broaden my mind, learn a little about our visual culture and bring art to the masses (my mother had imbued me with a gentle form of socialism). As I look back now I realise that it was at least partially because such courses are traditionally full of women.
More soon (whether you like it or not).
Wednesday 21 February 2007
Play your curds right
Oh dear oh dear oh dear,
Haven't really been able to blog for a few weeks as we've have had an influx of in-laws.
(To be honest that last statement is a bit of a misnomer - Tallulah and I are not currently in a state of matrimony - the best we can pretend to is being in a state of disarray - and so have no "in-laws" as such. I guess that makes Tallulah's parents my "outlaws".... but you just _try_ getting her father to wear green tights, sheesh).
Elder statesmen in green hosiery aside we have had two visits of relatives from the Scottish side of our relationship and that pretty much puts the computer (in the spare room) off limits. You just try tapping away into the night while two respectable people try to sleep merely feet away.
Just imagine the fuss if I woke one of them up to ask how to spell the word "heinous".
Anyway, I've have spent a large proportion of the previous weeks composing the following ode to the new love of my life. Yes it's true - I have transferred my affections to another as I could no longer stomach our relationship - replete as it was with salty goodness.
I am, of course, talking about my rejection of Marmite in favour of Lemon curd as my spread of preference when breaking my fast.
I haven't had lemon curd for years. Sure, I toyed with some of the other curds - Cherry curd in particular was young and enthusiastic, but her youthful lack of experience left me wanting someone who could touch me in ways I never thought possible.
Lemon curd has been around the block and, as we all know, with maturity comes a willingness to experiment.
So, until I become bored with her and wander off to preserves new (perhaps I'll sample peanut butter's spread-next-door charms again) Lemon curd is my preserve of choice.
I enclose the following ode:
Lemon Curd, Lemon Curd
Lemon Curd
Why not comment on this blog by telling me your favourite preserve-related anecdotes or poetry inspired by your favourite spread.
The most interesting entry will win absolutely nowt.
Haven't really been able to blog for a few weeks as we've have had an influx of in-laws.
(To be honest that last statement is a bit of a misnomer - Tallulah and I are not currently in a state of matrimony - the best we can pretend to is being in a state of disarray - and so have no "in-laws" as such. I guess that makes Tallulah's parents my "outlaws".... but you just _try_ getting her father to wear green tights, sheesh).
Elder statesmen in green hosiery aside we have had two visits of relatives from the Scottish side of our relationship and that pretty much puts the computer (in the spare room) off limits. You just try tapping away into the night while two respectable people try to sleep merely feet away.
Just imagine the fuss if I woke one of them up to ask how to spell the word "heinous".
Anyway, I've have spent a large proportion of the previous weeks composing the following ode to the new love of my life. Yes it's true - I have transferred my affections to another as I could no longer stomach our relationship - replete as it was with salty goodness.
I am, of course, talking about my rejection of Marmite in favour of Lemon curd as my spread of preference when breaking my fast.
I haven't had lemon curd for years. Sure, I toyed with some of the other curds - Cherry curd in particular was young and enthusiastic, but her youthful lack of experience left me wanting someone who could touch me in ways I never thought possible.
Lemon curd has been around the block and, as we all know, with maturity comes a willingness to experiment.
So, until I become bored with her and wander off to preserves new (perhaps I'll sample peanut butter's spread-next-door charms again) Lemon curd is my preserve of choice.
I enclose the following ode:
Lemon Curd, Lemon Curd
You give me such delight
Lemon Curd. Lemon Curd
With your tasty bite
You make marmalade look quaint
You make jam look absurd
You make jam look absurd
Lemon Curd, Lemon Curd
Lemon Curd
Why not comment on this blog by telling me your favourite preserve-related anecdotes or poetry inspired by your favourite spread.
The most interesting entry will win absolutely nowt.
Tuesday 30 January 2007
Reality Bytes
Well shucks and gosh - isn't it a long time since I last posted?
I wish that I had an excuse for this.
I could claim to have been busy - but I've not been particularly busy.
I could claim to have been working on building up my army of atomic-powered badgers for the day when I intend to wreak badger-flavoured mayhem - but that would be absurd (or perhaps that's what I want you to think).
The truth is that inspiration has been lacking - and life has taken on a post-Xmas 'meh' feeling. Even the thrills of augmenting burrowing mammals with tactical thermonuclear weaponry begin to pale.
January is an odd month - it starts off with all the bells and whistles of New Year, but when you're past all that you are left with the sinking feeling that you only really have Burn's Night before the prospect of a stale chocolate egg in a couple of months time.
Luckily Tallulah and I have our anniversary in March! Hurrah!
Anyway, I've spent the last month or so as I spent most of last summer - studiously trying to avoid watching Big Brother.
It seemed to be a particularly difficult task this time around as, thanks to the shameful behaviour of some really rather ignorant and hateful housemates, Big Brother - or rather it's celebrity incarnation - seemed to have colonised current affairs programmes as well.
I won't comment on recent events except to admit that I succumbed in a small way recently and watched one of the housemates (you know the one) on her eviction interview. I wanted to see how the programme makers would handle such a situation and I was reasonably satisfied to see that she was closely questioned and forced to see herself making the comments and the reaction they had provoked.
Many have commented on the irony that the career of the individual in question was 'made' by the programme and this career now appears to have been broken by it too. Even more ironically the reverse is true - her third series antics made the programme's reputation (such as it was) and now appears to have damaged it severely.
Big Brother is an odd TV programme - the Marmite of televisual broadcasting. You either love it or hate it - in fact I'd go so far as to say that people either seem to love it or react to the very mention of the show as if someone had pulled down their pants and defecated in front of them. Some people also proudly announce the fact (quite loudly) that they've never seen more than a snippet of it - often before you've asked them.
I, on the other hand, have no time for such shameless TV snobbery and admit to having been a past Big Brother fan. I loved the experimental format of series one, tired of series two, rekindled my affair with series three, and then got addicted to series four (when, briefly, a student from my old university looked likely to win). As a result decided to gradually wean myself off the show until I reached the point where I didn't see any of series seven AT ALL.
I wish that I could say that I stopped watching it because I felt it was a tasteless programme, that it took up too much time, that the programme had been turned into a money-spinner or that it had become cruel and arbitrary in it's attempts to grab ratings. All these comments are true - but that's not why I stopped watching.
Truthfully - and it's a rather sad truth - the reason that I stopped watching the show is that I felt that the mere fact that I admitted to watching it led people to make judgements about me. It became a bit of a joke and I became so tired of the shocked "You can't really mean you watch that? - you're reasonably intelligent" response that I gave up trying to argue the point. The fact that I used to watch series one with my late father meant that the "Only stupid people watch the show" argument didn't go down well with me either. It seemed easier to 'go with the flow' and drop my not-so-secret shame.
Stopping watching Big Brother remains the only time that I've ever altered my behaviour or modified my taste to 'fit in' with the prevaling mood. While I'm glad, in retrospect, that I jumped ship before the programme really began plumbing the depths I still see my decision as a betrayal of my personal principles and one I'm (frankly) embarrassed to admit to.
A lot of people seem to think that 'Big Brother' is the worst thing to have happened to television - part of an unspoken theory that merely showing it on Channel 4 has lowered BBC's house prices. It is apparently the nadir of British televisual entertainment and the herald of a coming apocalypse and all of these opinions become harder to deny after the recent debacle. After all, the programme makers could have - and should have - stepped in sooner to deal with those involved in the comments.
Personally, I now think that Big Brother was a once-entertaining television show that's now getting increasingly desperate and nearing the end of it's life. The choice of abrasive housemates and an increasingly manipulative Big Brother means that the programme seems to have become the show it was always depicted as being in the tabloid newspapers - it's just unfortunate to reflect that there are people who don't realise it was ever anything else.
Therefore, I feel, another summer of avoidance beckons...
I wish that I had an excuse for this.
I could claim to have been busy - but I've not been particularly busy.
I could claim to have been working on building up my army of atomic-powered badgers for the day when I intend to wreak badger-flavoured mayhem - but that would be absurd (or perhaps that's what I want you to think).
The truth is that inspiration has been lacking - and life has taken on a post-Xmas 'meh' feeling. Even the thrills of augmenting burrowing mammals with tactical thermonuclear weaponry begin to pale.
January is an odd month - it starts off with all the bells and whistles of New Year, but when you're past all that you are left with the sinking feeling that you only really have Burn's Night before the prospect of a stale chocolate egg in a couple of months time.
Luckily Tallulah and I have our anniversary in March! Hurrah!
Anyway, I've spent the last month or so as I spent most of last summer - studiously trying to avoid watching Big Brother.
It seemed to be a particularly difficult task this time around as, thanks to the shameful behaviour of some really rather ignorant and hateful housemates, Big Brother - or rather it's celebrity incarnation - seemed to have colonised current affairs programmes as well.
I won't comment on recent events except to admit that I succumbed in a small way recently and watched one of the housemates (you know the one) on her eviction interview. I wanted to see how the programme makers would handle such a situation and I was reasonably satisfied to see that she was closely questioned and forced to see herself making the comments and the reaction they had provoked.
Many have commented on the irony that the career of the individual in question was 'made' by the programme and this career now appears to have been broken by it too. Even more ironically the reverse is true - her third series antics made the programme's reputation (such as it was) and now appears to have damaged it severely.
Big Brother is an odd TV programme - the Marmite of televisual broadcasting. You either love it or hate it - in fact I'd go so far as to say that people either seem to love it or react to the very mention of the show as if someone had pulled down their pants and defecated in front of them. Some people also proudly announce the fact (quite loudly) that they've never seen more than a snippet of it - often before you've asked them.
I, on the other hand, have no time for such shameless TV snobbery and admit to having been a past Big Brother fan. I loved the experimental format of series one, tired of series two, rekindled my affair with series three, and then got addicted to series four (when, briefly, a student from my old university looked likely to win). As a result decided to gradually wean myself off the show until I reached the point where I didn't see any of series seven AT ALL.
I wish that I could say that I stopped watching it because I felt it was a tasteless programme, that it took up too much time, that the programme had been turned into a money-spinner or that it had become cruel and arbitrary in it's attempts to grab ratings. All these comments are true - but that's not why I stopped watching.
Truthfully - and it's a rather sad truth - the reason that I stopped watching the show is that I felt that the mere fact that I admitted to watching it led people to make judgements about me. It became a bit of a joke and I became so tired of the shocked "You can't really mean you watch that? - you're reasonably intelligent" response that I gave up trying to argue the point. The fact that I used to watch series one with my late father meant that the "Only stupid people watch the show" argument didn't go down well with me either. It seemed easier to 'go with the flow' and drop my not-so-secret shame.
Stopping watching Big Brother remains the only time that I've ever altered my behaviour or modified my taste to 'fit in' with the prevaling mood. While I'm glad, in retrospect, that I jumped ship before the programme really began plumbing the depths I still see my decision as a betrayal of my personal principles and one I'm (frankly) embarrassed to admit to.
A lot of people seem to think that 'Big Brother' is the worst thing to have happened to television - part of an unspoken theory that merely showing it on Channel 4 has lowered BBC's house prices. It is apparently the nadir of British televisual entertainment and the herald of a coming apocalypse and all of these opinions become harder to deny after the recent debacle. After all, the programme makers could have - and should have - stepped in sooner to deal with those involved in the comments.
Personally, I now think that Big Brother was a once-entertaining television show that's now getting increasingly desperate and nearing the end of it's life. The choice of abrasive housemates and an increasingly manipulative Big Brother means that the programme seems to have become the show it was always depicted as being in the tabloid newspapers - it's just unfortunate to reflect that there are people who don't realise it was ever anything else.
Therefore, I feel, another summer of avoidance beckons...
Tuesday 16 January 2007
The links effect
Just a quick note in order to draw the attention of the inattentive amongst you to the crop of freshly garnered links currently adhered to the left of this blog.
"What!" you cry to yourself in astonishment and alarm "there are other blogs beside 'The Geek Shall Inherit the Earth? Do any of the others fulfil our needs in terms of weak puns and poorly-informed rants in the same way you do?"
Well no, actually - but some of them are rather good!
FRIED GREEN TOMATOES is the blog of the light of my life/my long-suffering partner (delete as applicable) Tallulah. Am I worried that she's named her blog after a film about a woman who goes crazy with an axe? - YOU BET I AM.
What you can learn there: How to wear fabulous shoes while coping with a partner who thinks posting photographs of Dalek bubble-bath containers on the Internet is a worthwhile way to spend an evening.
MANTUA MAKER is the blog of a friend of mine who is (quite frankly) the font of all textile and soft furnishing knowledge. In fact she's rather TOO fond of textiles - don't leave her alone with your scatter cushions unless they are old enough to know sin!!!
What you can learn there: The latest in textile and craft design PLUS 101 uses for a codpiece!!!
GRUBLOG is the blog of aforementioned friend who (in this blog) turns aside from the path of textiles and chronicles her own personal gastronomic journey. (i.e. it's about food).
What you can learn there: How to eat well (and co-ordinate your meals successfully with the tablecloth).
See you there soon!
"What!" you cry to yourself in astonishment and alarm "there are other blogs beside 'The Geek Shall Inherit the Earth? Do any of the others fulfil our needs in terms of weak puns and poorly-informed rants in the same way you do?"
Well no, actually - but some of them are rather good!
FRIED GREEN TOMATOES is the blog of the light of my life/my long-suffering partner (delete as applicable) Tallulah. Am I worried that she's named her blog after a film about a woman who goes crazy with an axe? - YOU BET I AM.
What you can learn there: How to wear fabulous shoes while coping with a partner who thinks posting photographs of Dalek bubble-bath containers on the Internet is a worthwhile way to spend an evening.
MANTUA MAKER is the blog of a friend of mine who is (quite frankly) the font of all textile and soft furnishing knowledge. In fact she's rather TOO fond of textiles - don't leave her alone with your scatter cushions unless they are old enough to know sin!!!
What you can learn there: The latest in textile and craft design PLUS 101 uses for a codpiece!!!
GRUBLOG is the blog of aforementioned friend who (in this blog) turns aside from the path of textiles and chronicles her own personal gastronomic journey. (i.e. it's about food).
What you can learn there: How to eat well (and co-ordinate your meals successfully with the tablecloth).
See you there soon!
Tuesday 9 January 2007
Blessed are the geek - Review of 2006
It seems as though my extended absence from the blogosphere has led to rejection from my beloved warm (but insecure) untidy audience and the usual flood of comments has slowed to a trickle, to a drip and then stopped.
It would appear that my "Idiot's guide to blogging" was correct in it's assertion that if you leave off your blog for more than a few days your loyal fans will desert you quicker than Chesney Hawkes' fans deserted their idol.
(It has been calculated - scientifically, by REAL scientists - that the shortest length of time measurable by any device is a millisecond [a thousandth of a second]. The next shortest measurable length of time was Chesney Hawkes' pop career. It would have been shorter, but a woman in Solihull was a bit tardy in winding-up the fanclub).
I'm told that the reason why such Blogs become moribund (apart from a tendancy to have a random 'go' at obscure 80s popstars) is that people get bored waiting for posts and drift off to pastures new...
In an effort to stem the tide I thought i'd do something a bit different and give you my potted review of highlights (and lowlights - assuming that there are such things as lowlights) of the year 2006....
Firstly, the highlights....
HIGHLIGHT 1. BLOGGING
I had to choose this, obviously. The opportunity to write one's hopes and dreams (as well as one's weak puns and facile observations) on the internet where they are read by precisely no-one is just too go0d to be true...
...plus, it keeps me off the streets. God knows what i'd be doing otherwise.
HIGHLIGHT 2. TOASTED CHEESE SCONES AT 'TEBAY' MOTORWAY SERVICES
Okay, I know that this is obscure - but 'Tebay' services is an important stop between Manchester and Scotland and their cheese scones taste really, really good. The coffee shop was closed when we visited there one time, and Tallulah and I nearly cried (then we found some in the restaurant and there was much joy).
PLUS if I mention them on my blog I might get some free!
Damn, just remembered I'm anonymous.
HIGHLIGHT 3. THE FILM 'THE PRESTIGE'
In a year when film quality seemed to be at an all time low (Actually, I quite like 'bad' movies so perhaps i'd better say "at an all-time mediocre") this one was a bit of a pleasant surprise. An adaptation of a Christopher Priest's novel about feuding Victorian stage magicians, it was intelligent enough to show you the plot twists relatively early on as a way of distracting you from the OTHER plot twists....
...and any film audacious enough to cast David Bowie as Nikolai Tesla (and get away with it) gets my vote.
HIGHLIGHT 4. THE CONTINUING SUCCESS OF DOCTOR WHO
What was that? - The sound of a science fiction series getting critical acclaim from 'cool' people who wouldn't even admit to watching a sci-fi show two years ago? The sound of a science fiction series being a huge ratings success? The sound of a sizeable adult audience shamelessly tuning in to what is ostensibly a kid's show?
Have I wandered into a parallel universe?
(See lowlight 4 however)
HIGHLIGHT 5. THE SONG 'MONSTER' BY 'THE AUTOMATIC'
The noughties (i.e. from 2000 onwards) have so far been remarkably short on hum-able indie anthems. This is the most recent one I can remember - and it's fiendishly got into my brain!
(Having said that it's realtively easy to get into my brain - I spent most of yesterday humming the theme tune to 'Thundercats')
All together now - "What's that coming over the hill?......Hmm Hmm Hm Hmmmmmm"
And lowlights....
LOWLIGHT 1. I-POD INSTRUCTION MANUALS
I've had to contend with two of these in the past year (neither pods were mine, sadly) and I can report IKEA finally has competition in terms of wilfully obscure instruction booklets. The I-pod were designed by a genius - the instructions were, however, written by his 5 year old son using a crayon and his own snot.
LOWLIGHT 2. THE WORLD CUP
Normally this would _not_ really be a lowlight - in the same way that Middlesborough is _not_ really a lowlight. In both cases one knows where it can be encountered and thus one can avoid it quite easily.
No, the reason why the world cup is a lowlight is that Tallulah and I had the misfortune to be in Dublin during the last week of the aforementioned sporting tournament. I foolishly thought that the fact that we were in the capital city of a country that wasn't even competing would protect us from exposure but no, it was impossible to escape it's clutches or (more importantly) sink a quiet pint of guinness.
LOWLIGHT 3. THE FILM 'NACHO LIBRE'
It's probably unfair to single this out as a lowlight because there were much worse films released during 2006.
The first reason i've picked this film is that this (unlike the aforementioned worse films) I paid money to see it, hoping for a Napolean Dynamite style minor hit.
The second reason is that it didn't even live up to my low expectations.
LOWLIGHT 4. THE LENGTH OF TIME ACTORS STAY ON DOCTOR WHO
First Christopher Ecclestone, then Billie Piper and now David Tennant - despite it's huge success no-one appears to be able to keep with the show for longer than two series.
I wouldn't mind, but they always say that "they feel it's time to move on" - at least be honest and say "It paid the bills and got me noticed but i'm leaving now as I want to be taken seriously as an actor by my pretentious friends who laugh at my sci-fi schenanigans and who won't appear in anything that doesn't involve emotional anguish, class-struggle or ruffs".
LOWLIGHT 5. CHANNEL 4 LOSING SERIES 3 OF 'LOST' TO SKY
Roughly equivalent to SKY going round to the houses of every terrestrial viewer's house and ripping the last three chapters out of all their un-read books.
Still, at least we're spared the annoying gits in the '118 118' adverts.
There we are - any suggested additions or subtractions can be offered by the magical medium of the 'comment' facility. Go on, you know you want to...
It would appear that my "Idiot's guide to blogging" was correct in it's assertion that if you leave off your blog for more than a few days your loyal fans will desert you quicker than Chesney Hawkes' fans deserted their idol.
(It has been calculated - scientifically, by REAL scientists - that the shortest length of time measurable by any device is a millisecond [a thousandth of a second]. The next shortest measurable length of time was Chesney Hawkes' pop career. It would have been shorter, but a woman in Solihull was a bit tardy in winding-up the fanclub).
I'm told that the reason why such Blogs become moribund (apart from a tendancy to have a random 'go' at obscure 80s popstars) is that people get bored waiting for posts and drift off to pastures new...
In an effort to stem the tide I thought i'd do something a bit different and give you my potted review of highlights (and lowlights - assuming that there are such things as lowlights) of the year 2006....
Firstly, the highlights....
HIGHLIGHT 1. BLOGGING
I had to choose this, obviously. The opportunity to write one's hopes and dreams (as well as one's weak puns and facile observations) on the internet where they are read by precisely no-one is just too go0d to be true...
...plus, it keeps me off the streets. God knows what i'd be doing otherwise.
HIGHLIGHT 2. TOASTED CHEESE SCONES AT 'TEBAY' MOTORWAY SERVICES
Okay, I know that this is obscure - but 'Tebay' services is an important stop between Manchester and Scotland and their cheese scones taste really, really good. The coffee shop was closed when we visited there one time, and Tallulah and I nearly cried (then we found some in the restaurant and there was much joy).
PLUS if I mention them on my blog I might get some free!
Damn, just remembered I'm anonymous.
HIGHLIGHT 3. THE FILM 'THE PRESTIGE'
In a year when film quality seemed to be at an all time low (Actually, I quite like 'bad' movies so perhaps i'd better say "at an all-time mediocre") this one was a bit of a pleasant surprise. An adaptation of a Christopher Priest's novel about feuding Victorian stage magicians, it was intelligent enough to show you the plot twists relatively early on as a way of distracting you from the OTHER plot twists....
...and any film audacious enough to cast David Bowie as Nikolai Tesla (and get away with it) gets my vote.
HIGHLIGHT 4. THE CONTINUING SUCCESS OF DOCTOR WHO
What was that? - The sound of a science fiction series getting critical acclaim from 'cool' people who wouldn't even admit to watching a sci-fi show two years ago? The sound of a science fiction series being a huge ratings success? The sound of a sizeable adult audience shamelessly tuning in to what is ostensibly a kid's show?
Have I wandered into a parallel universe?
(See lowlight 4 however)
HIGHLIGHT 5. THE SONG 'MONSTER' BY 'THE AUTOMATIC'
The noughties (i.e. from 2000 onwards) have so far been remarkably short on hum-able indie anthems. This is the most recent one I can remember - and it's fiendishly got into my brain!
(Having said that it's realtively easy to get into my brain - I spent most of yesterday humming the theme tune to 'Thundercats')
All together now - "What's that coming over the hill?......Hmm Hmm Hm Hmmmmmm"
And lowlights....
LOWLIGHT 1. I-POD INSTRUCTION MANUALS
I've had to contend with two of these in the past year (neither pods were mine, sadly) and I can report IKEA finally has competition in terms of wilfully obscure instruction booklets. The I-pod were designed by a genius - the instructions were, however, written by his 5 year old son using a crayon and his own snot.
LOWLIGHT 2. THE WORLD CUP
Normally this would _not_ really be a lowlight - in the same way that Middlesborough is _not_ really a lowlight. In both cases one knows where it can be encountered and thus one can avoid it quite easily.
No, the reason why the world cup is a lowlight is that Tallulah and I had the misfortune to be in Dublin during the last week of the aforementioned sporting tournament. I foolishly thought that the fact that we were in the capital city of a country that wasn't even competing would protect us from exposure but no, it was impossible to escape it's clutches or (more importantly) sink a quiet pint of guinness.
LOWLIGHT 3. THE FILM 'NACHO LIBRE'
It's probably unfair to single this out as a lowlight because there were much worse films released during 2006.
The first reason i've picked this film is that this (unlike the aforementioned worse films) I paid money to see it, hoping for a Napolean Dynamite style minor hit.
The second reason is that it didn't even live up to my low expectations.
LOWLIGHT 4. THE LENGTH OF TIME ACTORS STAY ON DOCTOR WHO
First Christopher Ecclestone, then Billie Piper and now David Tennant - despite it's huge success no-one appears to be able to keep with the show for longer than two series.
I wouldn't mind, but they always say that "they feel it's time to move on" - at least be honest and say "It paid the bills and got me noticed but i'm leaving now as I want to be taken seriously as an actor by my pretentious friends who laugh at my sci-fi schenanigans and who won't appear in anything that doesn't involve emotional anguish, class-struggle or ruffs".
LOWLIGHT 5. CHANNEL 4 LOSING SERIES 3 OF 'LOST' TO SKY
Roughly equivalent to SKY going round to the houses of every terrestrial viewer's house and ripping the last three chapters out of all their un-read books.
Still, at least we're spared the annoying gits in the '118 118' adverts.
There we are - any suggested additions or subtractions can be offered by the magical medium of the 'comment' facility. Go on, you know you want to...
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