Life A couple of weeks ago I went into some shops and bought some clothes and also ordered a new jumper from Marks & Spencer’s. Always picky, I decided on the one colour, grey, which wasn’t actually in the shop at my size. I was told that the garment would be in the shop between Wednesday and Friday this week unless I heard otherwise. Sure enough at 10:03 am on Wednesday a message was left on our service. It’s still on there and here is a transcript:
“This is a message for (you, meaning me), I’m sorry to tell you we could deliv… Hello, this is a message for (you), this is Marks and Spencer’s, I’m sorry to say we could get your order today, thanks. Bye.”
The gist is there. No jumper. But not much else. I rang them back yesterday. What followed was something of a wake up call for someone like me who doesn't do a lot of clothes buying and assumed that like everything else in the modern world that things had moved on in the clothing retail industry. Here’s what I discovered:
(1) The jumper was indeed not in stock, with none in the warehouse, and no idea when more would be manufactured
(2) That, at least at M&S, an order can’t be kept open on the computer, so that when stock does come in I can be contacted, which means that ..
(3) … basically the order is cancelled and it's up to me the customer to go into the shop again and place a separate new order although ..
(4) … apparently there is a written diary and a reminder can be put in there, but it depends whether someone on the counter quote: ‘remembers to look in it on that day’
(5) That having checked her computer the nearest available jumper is in Leeds
(6) No they can’t transfer it to my local store. If I want it, they can post it out to me at £3.50 postage and packing
(7) There’s also one at the website. When I asked if they could transfer it from their warehouse to here I was told no ‘because we don’t have access to the internet'
(8) I checked the website. That colour isn’t even an option. Though oddly there is photo of a man wearing it. It doesn’t look half as good on him (blink).
I could completely understand if I’d made this phone call in the 80s or 90s – but in 2008? I’m assuming that the reason that this kind of stock transfer doesn’t happen is the expense of shifting a single item between stores and they’d much rather the cost burden was with the customer who wants the damn thing. But I can’t see how this is that different to an inter-library loan in a library, and there you have an extra expense of having to ship the item back its source.
Clearly I don’t know anything about how Marks and Spencer’s supply their stores, but I have to assume that a van takes the stock from a warehouse somewhere to the individual store and then an almost empty van returns to the warehouse for the next load (assuming there isn’t some kind of stock return). That kind of run must happen at least once a week, if not daily.
I’m amazed there isn’t a network in place whereby when a van turns up at a particular shop, customer requests from other stores in the chain are loaded up for the return journey to the warehouse and then loaded onto another van going to the shop it has been ordered from. I know this sounds like the kind of bizarre idea cooked up by a disgruntled customer in the aftermath of a unsatisfying phone call, but I'm genuinely surprised by all this (I'm generally surprised by most things, but still).
So I’m Asking Metafilter (and you too), do I have an over extended expectation of how distribution systems work in department stores?
sounds like one of S Club 7's old album filler tracks
The Sun falls victim to Robert Mugabe palace hoax
Epic fail, and not before time.
http://www.thinkb4youspeak.com/
Take that Katy Perry and Rose Tyler. Actually I do find the use of the phrase repugnant and good luck to these people in trying to do something about it, even if the ads don't quite work and come across as a poor skit from a late edition of The Fast Show. I much prefer lame, though that's also probably discriminating against lamers.
Interview: Neil Gaiman and Joss Whedon
Old (well two and half year old) but sweet interview with Neil and Joss from TIME Magazine from just before Serenity opened and ... a year or so later it did well on dvd.
BBC screws British bloggers (again)
I hate reading stories like this; how can every other source in the programme be crediting properly and not the people from Shiny Media (and yes, I've read the BBC statement in the comments which doesn't make sense to me).
Girls Aloud Game
I'm so old, that I remember when computer games were considered nerdy and Lucas Arts-style point and click adventures the nerdiest. It's 2008, kids are fighting over consoles called Wii and to increase the culture shock, at least for me, not too long ago the Girls Aloud PR team used one of this genre of games in a competition, with cartoon versions of the group trying to give some blokes a "makeover". WARNING: above link goes straight to the flash game with one of their tracks on a loop which, despite being quite good, you'd probably best turn off before it rots your brain. Though it can't rot your brain more than their latest single which sounds like one of S Club 7's old album filler tracks.
Very Short Introductions Quiz
If trying to find Cheryl a replacement for Ashley's not your thing, here's a pretty challenging quiz. By the time I'd finished, only the frontal lobe of the man's head was still there, though it was late and I was very tired. Obviously.
Epic fail, and not before time.
http://www.thinkb4youspeak.com/
Take that Katy Perry and Rose Tyler. Actually I do find the use of the phrase repugnant and good luck to these people in trying to do something about it, even if the ads don't quite work and come across as a poor skit from a late edition of The Fast Show. I much prefer lame, though that's also probably discriminating against lamers.
Interview: Neil Gaiman and Joss Whedon
Old (well two and half year old) but sweet interview with Neil and Joss from TIME Magazine from just before Serenity opened and ... a year or so later it did well on dvd.
BBC screws British bloggers (again)
I hate reading stories like this; how can every other source in the programme be crediting properly and not the people from Shiny Media (and yes, I've read the BBC statement in the comments which doesn't make sense to me).
Girls Aloud Game
I'm so old, that I remember when computer games were considered nerdy and Lucas Arts-style point and click adventures the nerdiest. It's 2008, kids are fighting over consoles called Wii and to increase the culture shock, at least for me, not too long ago the Girls Aloud PR team used one of this genre of games in a competition, with cartoon versions of the group trying to give some blokes a "makeover". WARNING: above link goes straight to the flash game with one of their tracks on a loop which, despite being quite good, you'd probably best turn off before it rots your brain. Though it can't rot your brain more than their latest single which sounds like one of S Club 7's old album filler tracks.
Very Short Introductions Quiz
If trying to find Cheryl a replacement for Ashley's not your thing, here's a pretty challenging quiz. By the time I'd finished, only the frontal lobe of the man's head was still there, though it was late and I was very tired. Obviously.
and generally doing the Democrats's job for them
City Shrinker
Ben Thomas, the creator, talks to Creative Review
I posted one of the videos to the tumblr. Now Thomas explains how their done with a raft of examples.
Shakira endorses Obama.
Though the format was bizarre, last night's debate pretty much confirmed everything we already know -- that McCain doesn't know what to do any more. He's spent much of the campaign slagging off his own party, taking pot shots at the policies that he previously supported, and generally doing the Democrats's job for them, under the pretence of being a 'maverick', not really explaining how he can be a force for change when the 'fundamentals' of that party would still be in charge should he come to power. That means that even in the circumstances of a controlled debate he can't help seeming stale and desperate while Obama is cool and dynamic. McCain looked nervous; strolling around the stage like a school boy public speaker not sure where to put his hands. He's lucky that the format did restrict room for redirects and proper debate; in a proper verbal fight, Barack would demolish him.
She was the face of 70s Hollywood, alongside Nicholson, Beatty and McQueen. Just don't ask Faye Dunaway about Roman Polanski.
Xan Brooks of The Guardian gets on the wrong side of Dunaway. I love the moment when she says: "My God, I turned down the Mail to do this!" As though they wouldn't ask that question either.
The Page That Has A New Favourite Manager
On the subject of journalists getting on the wrong side of interviewees... This is amazing and would the perfect raw material for an Edinburgh Fringe show. The Guardian have a recording of it being read by a computer, which sounds like HAL 9000 hectoring Stephen Hawking, a Speak and Spell and the old Ananova animated news reader.
Ben Thomas, the creator, talks to Creative Review
I posted one of the videos to the tumblr. Now Thomas explains how their done with a raft of examples.
Shakira endorses Obama.
Though the format was bizarre, last night's debate pretty much confirmed everything we already know -- that McCain doesn't know what to do any more. He's spent much of the campaign slagging off his own party, taking pot shots at the policies that he previously supported, and generally doing the Democrats's job for them, under the pretence of being a 'maverick', not really explaining how he can be a force for change when the 'fundamentals' of that party would still be in charge should he come to power. That means that even in the circumstances of a controlled debate he can't help seeming stale and desperate while Obama is cool and dynamic. McCain looked nervous; strolling around the stage like a school boy public speaker not sure where to put his hands. He's lucky that the format did restrict room for redirects and proper debate; in a proper verbal fight, Barack would demolish him.
She was the face of 70s Hollywood, alongside Nicholson, Beatty and McQueen. Just don't ask Faye Dunaway about Roman Polanski.
Xan Brooks of The Guardian gets on the wrong side of Dunaway. I love the moment when she says: "My God, I turned down the Mail to do this!" As though they wouldn't ask that question either.
The Page That Has A New Favourite Manager
On the subject of journalists getting on the wrong side of interviewees... This is amazing and would the perfect raw material for an Edinburgh Fringe show. The Guardian have a recording of it being read by a computer, which sounds like HAL 9000 hectoring Stephen Hawking, a Speak and Spell and the old Ananova animated news reader.
to keep me busy
About I'm adding my voice to the choir. Bloglines is broken. One of the central destinations for many people's interaction with the web is not updating many of its subscriptions within the hour specified in their FAQ if at all. It's also regularly halting in the middle of an operation or the website is inaccessible for long periods, even in the new beta mode. Watching Twitter over the past week, I'm not the only one who's getting grumpy with some bloggers receiving emails from readers wondering why they haven't been updated for a while and other saying they're reluctantly going to Google Reader.
I don't want to do that. I like Bloglines, I like its functionality when it functions and having tried others over the years I've kept coming back. It seems to be a problem with parsing (if that's the right word) some types of feed, and when it doesn't seem to like The Guardian (some feeds - music, film - not updated since Saturday) or The Daily Kos (some time last week), big websites with lots of updates, clearly something has gone wrong at the back end. But there's been no word from Bloglines themselves about any of this and their news page just talks about a scheduled maintenance at the end of September.
Thankfully, I've got the above to keep me busy instead, bought with my government 10p tax rebate. "Andrew Jackson, brought a big block of cheese..."
The Last Sontaran (Part Two)
TV If we’ve learnt anything this past few weeks, through The Writer’s Tale (my review) and the extras from The Trial of a Timelord boxset, it’s that Doctor Who isn’t easy. Eric Saward says as much at least twice in the documentaries, and the agonising that Russell T Davies went through at three in the morning whilst writing series four confirms it. People have fought battles over it, shouting to get their voice on screen, their impression of what they think the franchise is supposed to be like, making it all the more remarkable that anything of quality turns up on screen. To some, Who is seen as being as less complex a show to write than, for example, Battlestar Galactica, because it's for a family audience, usually has fairly linear plotting and only two main characters.
Actually that makes it even more difficult, because you really do have to care about tone and balance and getting a man who despises guns and violence (unless as a last resort) from one end of a story to another. Russell himself realised that the Bad Wolf Bay scene in Journey’s End was a mistake in hindsight and did what he could to suture the wound despite running out of time because of other commitments, just as Saward ended up hiring Pip & Jane Baker to write Terror of the Vervoids and in both cases the solutions, whilst not perfect were still far more interesting than anything else going on in television at their respective eras.
Rose’s choice is all the more heartbreaking because like many of us she does choose second best, not the person she really wanted, but someone as close as possible. You can agree with Open Air's mini-Chris Chibnall (first time for everything) that Vervoids is vaguely derivative of what’s gone before with a whodunnit aboard ship (not that it stopped Agatha Christie), but gives us a sixth Doctor acting like proper hero, a companion who’s proative and adventurous for the first time in ages, is the most all round entertaining story of that season and watching it the other night I couldn’t help thinking that it was The Caves of Androzani of Colin’s era, in that we finally saw what a sixth Doctor tale should be like. Why is this relevant to …
The Sarah Jane Adventures: The Last Sontaran: Part Two?
Because like those episodes scribbled in difficult circumstances, it had to write out a well loved character and her whole family in the opening story of a season, whilst offering much the same formula seen before in making it palatable for kids, as well as a sequel to a yarn from the mother series. Assuming Phil Ford did write all of this, setting aside your envy that he’s getting a chance to work in the inner circle, you can imagine him sitting in front of his electric typewriter with note book full of ideas, buzzing with potentially scenes and speeches and trying to put them down on paper in a coherent order including how to fit in a line about "small man syndrome" without it sound dodgy (he failed).
Perhaps as he's replacing the ribbon, he's pondering: "At what point do I disclose that Maria’s leaving? How to I give the titular character something to do in a story which needs to foreground the younger characters without constantly making her look like she’s holding something back? Where do I put the exposition scene explaining the plot? Where do I put the reveal of the probic vent as a solution to immobilising the Kaarg the Sontaran – do I wait until episode two? Who should I get to do it – would working out a way for Maria’s mum Chrissy however cute to do it be too reminiscent of the Donna scene in the other story and making her forget similar to Ms Noble’s non-demise? Would a final scene in which our remaining characters look into the sky imagining that Maria’s doing the same thing be too cheesy?"
You might agree or disagree with his choices, but given what he had to produce, you can’t criticise the writer for at least trying his best. The main story was about the only weakness, far more simplistic in design than most of last year’s stories. This is, we assume, is SJA’s equivalent of the romp, with plenty of running, being captured now and then and trying to outfox an alien using his own raw materials. On reflection, though Kaagh wasn’t by any stretch of the imagination (to quote Ford) "the best Sontaran that we've ever seen in the Doctor Who world", Anthony O'Donnell was certainly enjoying himself and like The Time Warrior’s stranded example, it was nice to have a member of that race who didn’t simply want to conquer Earth just because; his rational at least from a Sontaran’s point of view was perfectly sound, even to the point of almost quoting from the great Zaroff. Unlike Revenge of the Slitheen, his ultimate defeat didn’t offer any kind of moral question, or room to ponder speed with which Professor Skinner was brandishing a gun (am I reading too much into this?) (probably).
Still, there were plenty of great scenes such as Alan having to deal with the process of getting Mr Smith open and the computer’s reaction (helped by Alexander Armstrong finally giving a proper performance, always a problem last year) and the chases through the forest, Ford giving loads of ammunition to director Joss Agnew who seemed to enjoy the opportunities to pretend he was lensing a Vietnam war film, with that fantastic deep focus shot of a foregrounded Clyde hiding behind a tree, with Kaagh on the hunt in the background; it’s a beat which has appeared in numerous other places, but it shows the ambition of this series that it should appear here. That was all back up by a flamboyant musical score that was, or at least sounded, orchestral, giving the proceedings a scale which even the classic era of Who couldn’t muster.
Presumably by design we’ve not been clued in too much about Alan's big US job (no doubt so they can return later in the series, Sarah-Jane’s contact stateside) and Ford could have overwritten the scenes in which Maria revealed her emigration to her pals, but in the first episode he used to it to say something about Sarah-Jane (who suddenly realised what it must be like when a companion chooses to leave the Doctor) and here in which Luke was devastated as a piece of his universe wasn’t going to be there anymore. The girl’s final scene, driven off in the back of the car, was clearly a homage to a hundred similar moments in Neighbours, the taking one final look at the neighbourhood before being whisked off to Brisbane (or in this case the colonies, which is, in a way, the same thing).
And if all that sentimental final scene lacked was the theme song to the Don Bluth animation An American Tail (“And even though I know how very far apart we are / It helps to think we might be wishing on the same bright star”) (still makes me cry that) (I’m a softy) it understood that kids might need a buffer into the next adventure, a thinking period as Maria left the series (and giving us adults a nod to the period where Sarah-Jane hadn’t a clue where the Doctor might be).
The character will be missed, which is credit to Yasmin Paige who brought charisma to Maria which could have been inherently whiny and annoying; unlike some actresses her age, she was/is understated and real which is not something you see often in this genre of television. I hope she does well with her GCSE's. It's ultimately very cool that she's put her qualifications ahead of her career in this way, realising that acting isn't the most stable of professions and that its good to have something else on your CV, even if it means leaving a plumb role like this. Yes, she will be missed, along with the rest of the family who are necessarily going with her. Especially Chrissie. Predictably, since it might be her last, this was her best episode yet.
Next Week: "Leave the girl, it's the clown I want."
The Last Sultana
Elsewhere I've reviewed tonight's The Sarah Jane Adventures, and it was a far less torturous process than last week.
basically my Friday
Life Having gone back to work and the Wed-Sun week, today's basically my Friday. So I'm frazzled, so don't expect anything too creative from me. So I'll defer the right honourable ladies and gentlemen to the tumblr which has recently been updated with more "exciting" videos.
cold dead pair of eyes
Excerpts from the depositions of Madeleine Peyroux
Dance me to the end of love. The things you find on YouTube. More here. Has this been seen anywhere else?
Meanwhile, Natalie Imbruglia is still single.
On “The Time of My Life”
Following on from yesterday, here's a US review of one of the best Doctor Who Magazine comic strips of recent times, which was just as heartbreaking as the actual television programme's final minutes and indeed might have been as good an ending there too. I love this piece in particular because it's someone essentially discovering the magnificence of the DWM strip for the first time.
Sarah Palin Debate Flow Chart
Never mind the winking, didn't she have a cold dead pair of eyes? They reminded me the buttons which masqueraded as such in these leprechauns -- at no point was I convinced she really believed anything she was saying.
Street Hello Love: Please, Join Me In a Revolution People!
I love the concept, but the execution, especially around these parts, um no. But if only it was possible.
Prank Calls: Robin Cooper
From the writer of The Time Waster Letters.
Is it Meta or is It Crazy?
I wonder if this ever happened to Alanis Morissette.
Rain Man rising above the erotic
Just because -- that headline, really? "I'm not wearing any underwear. I'm definitely not wearing any underwear."
Nick and Norah's Infinite Playlist Strikes Sweet Chord
The trailer's too long which is never a great sign and the article's comparison with Dazed and Confused is misguided, but this looks like it could be a fairly decent teen rom-com in the tradition of Loser and Mystery Date. That's a good thing by the way.
Writers' rooms: Jonathan Bate
Editor of the RSC's Complete Works has a play about Shakespeare in the works.
The Moon that went up a Hill but came down a planet
"Every now and again I get an email from someone who tries to tell me that the moon orbits the Sun more than it orbits the Earth..."
Dance me to the end of love. The things you find on YouTube. More here. Has this been seen anywhere else?
Meanwhile, Natalie Imbruglia is still single.
On “The Time of My Life”
Following on from yesterday, here's a US review of one of the best Doctor Who Magazine comic strips of recent times, which was just as heartbreaking as the actual television programme's final minutes and indeed might have been as good an ending there too. I love this piece in particular because it's someone essentially discovering the magnificence of the DWM strip for the first time.
Sarah Palin Debate Flow Chart
Never mind the winking, didn't she have a cold dead pair of eyes? They reminded me the buttons which masqueraded as such in these leprechauns -- at no point was I convinced she really believed anything she was saying.
Street Hello Love: Please, Join Me In a Revolution People!
I love the concept, but the execution, especially around these parts, um no. But if only it was possible.
Prank Calls: Robin Cooper
From the writer of The Time Waster Letters.
Is it Meta or is It Crazy?
I wonder if this ever happened to Alanis Morissette.
Rain Man rising above the erotic
Just because -- that headline, really? "I'm not wearing any underwear. I'm definitely not wearing any underwear."
Nick and Norah's Infinite Playlist Strikes Sweet Chord
The trailer's too long which is never a great sign and the article's comparison with Dazed and Confused is misguided, but this looks like it could be a fairly decent teen rom-com in the tradition of Loser and Mystery Date. That's a good thing by the way.
Writers' rooms: Jonathan Bate
Editor of the RSC's Complete Works has a play about Shakespeare in the works.
The Moon that went up a Hill but came down a planet
"Every now and again I get an email from someone who tries to tell me that the moon orbits the Sun more than it orbits the Earth..."
badgering Davies
Books There have been few books greeted with so much anticipation in Doctor Who fan circles than The Writer’s Tale. A record of Russell T Davies’s email correspondence with friend and journalist Benjamin Cook during the writing and production of the fourth season of the revived series, it was rumoured that for the first time we, the royal ‘we’ meaning ‘we’ fans as opposed to the ‘not we’ meaning everyone else, would hear the gossip and secrets that under normal circumstances don’t come to light until years later during bitter interchanges in Doctor Who Magazine (more commonly DWM) when half the people involved are dead. Now that it has finally been published, none of us have truly been prepared for how honest and apparently uncensored the book is, and though much swearing and scandal have apparently been removed (presumably for legal reasons) at times it’s as though the reader has hacked into the writer/producer’s email account and is working their way through Davies’s ‘sent items’. It goes without saying that if you’re fan of the new series, it may be quite some time before we’re treated to such a detailed account of production, barring the DWM Special by historian Andrew Pixley.
I’d argue however that non-fans or people who simply watch the show on broadcast will find this equally entertaining, since away from the fannish trivia and scripting anecdotes it’s also a fractured biography of a very complex individual which explains why he’s walking away from his dream job at the end of next year. It seems to be killing him. Russell T Davies is arguably the most prominent producer and writer in the series history, and in an age when backstage creatives are often as famous as those who appear on screen, Davies is as likely to be interviewed just before a new series as the stars. The impression the viewer gets from his publicity appearances is of a bouncy extrovert with bags of energy, always smiling and that’s backed up by his contributions to the making of tv series Doctor Who Confidential and monthly column in DWM. Though the book doesn’t contradict that view, it fleshes out his personality, showing that even though in public he’s forever making grandiose claims about being a screenwriter who knows what he’s doing, in private like every writer he’s wracked with unsurety about his craft and abilities, never feeling as though he’s got things quite right, or that he’s got enough time.
He’s similar to 70s script editor Douglas Adams (who was writing Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy at the same time) in that respect – forever in here, Davies frets about deadlines, often letting them whoosh past him to the point that often what’s being filmed is, if not quite a first draft (he’s forever polishing), certainly something which is into the computer one day and at a script reading the next. There are times when he admits he simply can’t get a plot point straight even as the episode enters production even to the point of being phoned from the set by the director asking for guidance on how to interpret what’s been written. It’s that brutal frankness which is endearing but also potentially frustrating because his work is potentially suffering because despite his big ideas, he's constantly interrupted by of all of the other things he has to do each day; in one entry he describes a typical twenty-four hours and the list is frightening. It’s these longer entries which are the real draw for the ‘not we’, as celebrity gossip (Kylie! Catherine! Billie!) and writing mechanics give way to confessionals on how the process of publicity and the circus that surrounds the series is exasperating him and the more negative aspects of his persona come to the fore, snapping at friends, autopilot at launch parties, walking around Cardiff bay in the middle of the night wondering how he’s going to get the work done.
Which is why Ben Cook’s contribution shouldn’t be overlooked. He’s the reader’s way into Davies’s life, like the Doctor exploring an alien world, somehow managing to ask just the right questions to trigger a revelation or anecdote. They’ve clearly already built a friendship and rapport in the preceding few years (or longer – Doctor Who fans have their inner circle just like any sub-culture), so the writer is already relaxed, but there are times when Cook is almost badgering Davies until he explains himself properly on a given topic. It helps that they both have the same field of reference – you couldn’t imagine another journalist to get Davies to write so candidly (in a chapter called ‘Bastards’ – and this in a book about a family series!) about helping other members of the production team come to terms with the online fan reaction to their work (offering sympathy to them on the phone for hours) whilst at the same time noticing his own thoughtlessness in relation to dumping the script of an old friend even though they’d been working on it for a year, agonising over what that says about him.
At just over five hundred pages this might seem like a intimidating read, but large sections are filled with first drafts and revisions of three of his episodes as well as pertinent photographs, publicity shots and candids sometimes showing the programme makers at play. It’s well designed by former DWM editor Clayton Hickman, text even punctuated here and there by Davies’s own comic illustrations of rejected story ideas and moments from life. It’s not all Davies either; exchanges with the likes of designers and incoming producer Steven Moffat are included too as they desperately try not to tell each other too much about their stories whilst simultaneously making sure their not repeating themselves. You’ll notice that I’ve not talked much about the content of the book and that’s quite deliberate. The Writer’s Tale is best savoured with all of the surprises intact, the casting replacements, the changes in story and who said what to whom about what and whom and when. In other words, no spoilers. The book does climax with some hints of what’s to come in the upcoming Christmas special and like the best stories there is a surprise ending.
But like I said, no spoilers.
[The book has its own marvellous website, which includes extracts as well as .pdfs of all of the scripts written by Davies.]
Review 2008: "I'm Gonna Sit Right Down and Write Myself (or You) a Letter"
Dear Readers,
Hope you’re well and that you’re getting the correct weather for the time of year. These days, that kind of thing isn’t certain, but there were hale stones this evening in town and given the proximity to the festive season, that seems just right.
Which is also why I’m writing to you. If you’re a regular reader, you’ll know that each December I have a kind of review of the year. I say kind of, because as time has gone on, these “reviews” have had less and less to do with the preceding eleven months, and more variations on a theme.
Last year, we wrote about our home towns and the year before that I answered a range of burning questions. I try to make it so that every other year I write everything, and in the others you do. Well, it’s my turn this year though I’m going to need your help. Again.
This year I want to write some open letters, the twist being that you’re hopefully going to choose who I’m going to write them to and perhaps the subject. These can be as light weight or personal as you want and it could be to yourself or someone you know or someone famous or historic or – well you can use your imagination. If you can’t think of a topic I’ll pick one of my own.
I know this is early, but if John Lewis or Marks & Sparks can have their decorations and gifts on sale already, it’s probably a good idea to have a head start. You’ll be unsurprised to hear I’ve started my present buying too, though that was in the January sales so I’m not sure that counts.
Anyway, have a think about it and if you have any ideas, do email at feelinglistless@btopenworld.com or leave a comment.
Take care,
Stu.
PS And don’t forget, if you have a blog or some other website, leave a link so I can send some of my meagre traffic in your direction.
Hope you’re well and that you’re getting the correct weather for the time of year. These days, that kind of thing isn’t certain, but there were hale stones this evening in town and given the proximity to the festive season, that seems just right.
Which is also why I’m writing to you. If you’re a regular reader, you’ll know that each December I have a kind of review of the year. I say kind of, because as time has gone on, these “reviews” have had less and less to do with the preceding eleven months, and more variations on a theme.
Last year, we wrote about our home towns and the year before that I answered a range of burning questions. I try to make it so that every other year I write everything, and in the others you do. Well, it’s my turn this year though I’m going to need your help. Again.
This year I want to write some open letters, the twist being that you’re hopefully going to choose who I’m going to write them to and perhaps the subject. These can be as light weight or personal as you want and it could be to yourself or someone you know or someone famous or historic or – well you can use your imagination. If you can’t think of a topic I’ll pick one of my own.
I know this is early, but if John Lewis or Marks & Sparks can have their decorations and gifts on sale already, it’s probably a good idea to have a head start. You’ll be unsurprised to hear I’ve started my present buying too, though that was in the January sales so I’m not sure that counts.
Anyway, have a think about it and if you have any ideas, do email at feelinglistless@btopenworld.com or leave a comment.
Take care,
Stu.
PS And don’t forget, if you have a blog or some other website, leave a link so I can send some of my meagre traffic in your direction.
Music Local(ish) boy Rick Astley is up for Best Act Ever at the Mtv Europe Awards. Vote once, vote often, for Astley: http://ema.mtv.co.uk/vote/
some of whom have personalities
Opening Times
Nice idea. One stop shop for finding out if your local chain supermarket/warehouse of goodies is open at the stupid, bizarre, inhuman hours when you want to shop. And where they are.
Chartblog reviews Sugababes - 'Girls'
Gentle evisceration of what could be the worst single from the threesome so far. I''m disappointed too.
Daily Mail publisher to inoculate staff against bird flu
Somehow I can only imagine the Daily Mail speeding some mileage out of this.
I'm a sex worker – don't take away my livelihood
"I am an off-street sex worker. I don't live a Belle de Jour-type existence, but nor am I the trafficked/drug-addled/pimped victim the Big Brothel report would have you believe. The reality of my working life lies somewhere between the two."
Meanwhile, Belle is mentioning Understanding Organizations by Charles Handy ...
... which I spent a whole week reading in 1993 before going undergraduate. What I'm sure he forgot to mention was that organisations fundamentally don't work because their are people involved, some of whom have personalities.
So do you reckon it will rain today?
It did. Buckets and buckets.
Camp Rock? You're Not Kidding...
Much as I hate it when reviewers provide a synopsis instead of an opinion, sometimes it's just necessary.
"How do we tell this from everybody’s side?"
I might have mis-read this, and I've reread that section a couple of times, but Neil LeBute seems to be under the impression that Sam Jackson not Denzel was in Training Day.
15-Minute Tomato Sauce. Really.
Yes, really.
'De-gendered' toilets spark row
My old university, everyone. I think this may be my favourite two minutes of local tv news ever -- it's just a hairsbreadth away from being a Christopher Guest parody. Imagine welfare officer Jennie Killip played by Parker Posey: "I was just quoting you."
When Hardeep Met Les
Just in case you haven't heard this already. It is excruciating and proves that no matter how fluffy you think the interview is going to be, you have to do at least some research and not assume the interviewee will play ball if they suspect you're a moron. I'm surprised Hardeep gives his so long. I think the turning point is when ... oh you'll hear for yourself ...
Charles Platt on Akihabara, the Week Before the Massacre
This is the kind of thing which BoingBoing does so well; it's in the middle of being a Wired piece put has aspects of the kind of tableau you'd find in National Geographic. Given my tirade about fashion the other day, wouldn't this be more fun? The British equivalent would probably to go out dress as Arthur Dent (ie, in a dressing gown and pyjamas) and not have a convention to go to.
Beyond the Trouble, More Trouble
Elizabeth Wurtzel on David Wallace. They were the best of friends.
Wendy and Lisa prepare 'Heroes' score album
Watched the opening double bill tonight and thank goodness it's back on form. I won't spoil the second episode in case you missed it, but Kring & co have certainly got their mojo back. There are revelations in there which, even if they weren't planned ahead, show that their inspiration is working overtime, and the results are rather more exciting than the 'virus on the loose' plot which, according to the season two dvd box set, was originally planned before the writer's strike curtailed the last series. I just wish it was goofier, just now and then.
Model Sanctuary opens again at London Fashion Week
It's a safe house for catwalkers.
Another city, another event, another night alone in another hotel.
This is exactly what it's like being alone in a hotel in strange place. My approach is to simply be there as little as possible. I think those Japanese bed capsules would be perfect for me.
Products Placed: How Companies Pay Artists to Include Brands in Lyrics
"oh lord, won't you buy me a ...."
Exclusive: William Kristol Is Having Trouble Writing His Next Column About Sarah Palin
Gosh some of these articles are old -- but I'm still catching up with my reading after the great reorganisation. Along with Russell T Davies's The Writer's Tale (more on which some other time) this demonstrates that when things like this happen, it's not because I'm rubbish, it's just that sometimes it doesn't happen. Personally, I think the best criticism Kristol could offer, if that's his motive, would be to publish this as it stands, perhaps cutting back on the swearing depending on the journal's policy.
A little something to remind me…
Landmark confusion.
Immendorff: copies, fakes or authorised reproductions?
It's worth asking on the basis of this, what makes a great artist. The work or his life?
In Conversation: Woody Allen
I feel like I've linked to this piece before. I haven't have I? Either way it's about the director's love for New York to celebrate New York Magazine's 40th Birthday and somehow manages to drag up some insights I've never heard before. What he says about the overall degradation of cultural expectation is true and I think suggests why some of his later work has been under appreciated -- audiences are far less forgiving in some ways these days, but undiscerning in others.
Frida Kahlo @ Who Killed Bambi
Oh deer...
Sun sets on 'House That Ruth Built'
Yankee Stadium closes. What is happening to the world? This is.
Nice idea. One stop shop for finding out if your local chain supermarket/warehouse of goodies is open at the stupid, bizarre, inhuman hours when you want to shop. And where they are.
Chartblog reviews Sugababes - 'Girls'
Gentle evisceration of what could be the worst single from the threesome so far. I''m disappointed too.
Daily Mail publisher to inoculate staff against bird flu
Somehow I can only imagine the Daily Mail speeding some mileage out of this.
I'm a sex worker – don't take away my livelihood
"I am an off-street sex worker. I don't live a Belle de Jour-type existence, but nor am I the trafficked/drug-addled/pimped victim the Big Brothel report would have you believe. The reality of my working life lies somewhere between the two."
Meanwhile, Belle is mentioning Understanding Organizations by Charles Handy ...
... which I spent a whole week reading in 1993 before going undergraduate. What I'm sure he forgot to mention was that organisations fundamentally don't work because their are people involved, some of whom have personalities.
So do you reckon it will rain today?
It did. Buckets and buckets.
Camp Rock? You're Not Kidding...
Much as I hate it when reviewers provide a synopsis instead of an opinion, sometimes it's just necessary.
"How do we tell this from everybody’s side?"
I might have mis-read this, and I've reread that section a couple of times, but Neil LeBute seems to be under the impression that Sam Jackson not Denzel was in Training Day.
15-Minute Tomato Sauce. Really.
Yes, really.
'De-gendered' toilets spark row
My old university, everyone. I think this may be my favourite two minutes of local tv news ever -- it's just a hairsbreadth away from being a Christopher Guest parody. Imagine welfare officer Jennie Killip played by Parker Posey: "I was just quoting you."
When Hardeep Met Les
Just in case you haven't heard this already. It is excruciating and proves that no matter how fluffy you think the interview is going to be, you have to do at least some research and not assume the interviewee will play ball if they suspect you're a moron. I'm surprised Hardeep gives his so long. I think the turning point is when ... oh you'll hear for yourself ...
Charles Platt on Akihabara, the Week Before the Massacre
This is the kind of thing which BoingBoing does so well; it's in the middle of being a Wired piece put has aspects of the kind of tableau you'd find in National Geographic. Given my tirade about fashion the other day, wouldn't this be more fun? The British equivalent would probably to go out dress as Arthur Dent (ie, in a dressing gown and pyjamas) and not have a convention to go to.
Beyond the Trouble, More Trouble
Elizabeth Wurtzel on David Wallace. They were the best of friends.
Wendy and Lisa prepare 'Heroes' score album
Watched the opening double bill tonight and thank goodness it's back on form. I won't spoil the second episode in case you missed it, but Kring & co have certainly got their mojo back. There are revelations in there which, even if they weren't planned ahead, show that their inspiration is working overtime, and the results are rather more exciting than the 'virus on the loose' plot which, according to the season two dvd box set, was originally planned before the writer's strike curtailed the last series. I just wish it was goofier, just now and then.
Model Sanctuary opens again at London Fashion Week
It's a safe house for catwalkers.
Another city, another event, another night alone in another hotel.
This is exactly what it's like being alone in a hotel in strange place. My approach is to simply be there as little as possible. I think those Japanese bed capsules would be perfect for me.
Products Placed: How Companies Pay Artists to Include Brands in Lyrics
"oh lord, won't you buy me a ...."
Exclusive: William Kristol Is Having Trouble Writing His Next Column About Sarah Palin
Gosh some of these articles are old -- but I'm still catching up with my reading after the great reorganisation. Along with Russell T Davies's The Writer's Tale (more on which some other time) this demonstrates that when things like this happen, it's not because I'm rubbish, it's just that sometimes it doesn't happen. Personally, I think the best criticism Kristol could offer, if that's his motive, would be to publish this as it stands, perhaps cutting back on the swearing depending on the journal's policy.
A little something to remind me…
Landmark confusion.
Immendorff: copies, fakes or authorised reproductions?
It's worth asking on the basis of this, what makes a great artist. The work or his life?
In Conversation: Woody Allen
I feel like I've linked to this piece before. I haven't have I? Either way it's about the director's love for New York to celebrate New York Magazine's 40th Birthday and somehow manages to drag up some insights I've never heard before. What he says about the overall degradation of cultural expectation is true and I think suggests why some of his later work has been under appreciated -- audiences are far less forgiving in some ways these days, but undiscerning in others.
Frida Kahlo @ Who Killed Bambi
Oh deer...
Sun sets on 'House That Ruth Built'
Yankee Stadium closes. What is happening to the world? This is.
Life Props: Odeon London Road
The Odeon London Road closed last night because a new multiplex has been added to the Liverpool One development and for obvious reasons the chain didn't want to have two cinemas operating in the town. Originally opened in the 1930s as the Paramount and converted to five screens in the seventies by Oscar Deutsch's group, this was the last of the original big picture houses in the city. Tragically the building is to be demolished to make way for "a Tesco or a hotel or something" according to the box office clerk when I popped in last week to check. Though that is understandable -- a cinema has such a specific utility it's not easy to simply convert it to another purpose and perhaps it's best that than what's happened to the Odeon on Oxford Road in Manchester, a ghostly shell which stands abandoned. Oscar Deutsch entertains our nation. Except in Liverpool, he'll be doing it somewhere else.
Last time I visited was for Ocean's 13, a couple of years ago. The projection was horrible, the sound poor, the print quality dreadful. Someone sat that the back of the screen chatting on their mobile phone throughout. It was refurbished in the late nineties and split into ten screens, the art deco exterior replaced with the somehow already dated branding that's there now. Five largish screens split into a array of tiny ones, with screen ten offering a picture the size of an average plasma screen. It lost some its soul, the maroon walls and orange lighting replaced with cobalt blue walls. Comfier seating perhaps, but now it was a proper multiplex and though the new tagline bleated that Odeon were 'fanatical about film', this seemed like a factory for the things, a production line of presentation which seemed to also coincide with start of the drift downwards of the behaviour of the audiences.
Still, as I stood on London Road today watching a chippy boarding up the windows, I couldn't help but feel nostalgic. For ages, this was my cinema. True the ABC Lime Street had the wrap around screen experience and 051 at the bottom of Mount Pleasant showed 'proper films' (art house), but if I was in town, or had just finished work and needed a quick fix of cinema, this Odeon was just across the road, and I'd be there all night. Glancing across at my dvd collection, I'm amazed at the sheer number of films I experienced first here, from The Lion King to Rushmore via The English Patient, and bunch of others not released by Disney or a subsidiary. Even at school, I'd install myself there with my friend Tris on a Sunday afternoon in front of whatever film was on -- one week Father of the Bride 2 another Seven and spend the next hour talking about what we'd seen. This is where I saw Groundhog Day, on the night that I finished school. I usually tell people that it was the Hyde Park Picture House in Leeds that really sparked my interest in film. On reflection, it was probably here.
Updated 20/4/2011 The building has now been demolished.
The Last Sontaran (Part One)
FROM: STUART I BURNS TO: BEHIND THE SOFA READERS
MONDAY 29 SEPTEMBER 2008 21:16:57
TV The economy’s really broken this time isn’t it? It’s pretty difficult to write anything when everything is drifting into the shitter. Usual mudslinging between the Democrats and Republicans as to who did what to who and why, though Barack gave a wonderful speech afterwards, finally going to McCain’s jugular. More please.
I promised to write you as soon as each episode is aired and here we are. This one’s torture. I didn’t enjoy the episode as much as would have like to, which as you know is my kryptonite (well that and when its written by Steven Moffat). I think that since my personal midnight deadline is hoaving into view I’m best self-indulgently showing my working out.
I began by trying to put this new series of The Sarah Jane Adventures into context. I also wanted to work the title in using a similar style to last year’s reviews:
Is it possible to get Doctor Who fatigue and do I have it? I’ve asked this question before and it’s a horrible one especially for those of us who remember when the show was a laughing stock (© every bloody stand up comic who’s seen the candyman) and worse than that when the most we could hope for was a rolled up copy of Doctor Who Magazine and a novelisation. But sometimes, it’s true, I wonder if there’s simply too much of the stuff these days.
Too many novels, audio, dvds and television shows, too many action figures (no matter how cool it is to see Mr. Sin nestled next to a Slitheen in Forbidden Planet) and related tat. I buy the dvds religiously and the odd Big Finish story and of course read the novels so I can’t imagine what it must be like for those who buy everything, because those people must exist. We’ve already had to sit through Torchwood and genuinely enjoyed the fourth series of Doctor Who and now we’re faced with a whole series of …
The Sarah Jane Adventures
and you wonder if you can take it, if you can have too much of a good thing. And then you remember that the first story is called …
The Last Sontaran
… you just have to watch …
Part One
... at least, don’t you?
Yes, you do. I still don't understand the argument 'SJA's for kids so I won't be watching' which doesn't make much sense and hope fully this sequel will get them interested. I think the opening works perfectly well. There is a hell of a lot of new material around and though it has nothing to do with the episode, despite the main show not being on air it is going to be a momentous time for the blog. Editor Damon emailed us reviewers a list of what’s ahead and if you include the BBC7 series, there’s almost as much new Who coming up as you’d expect to find in the 70s – and that’s having already seen twenty-six episodes set in the same universe already this year. Now I realise I need to actually say whether I liked the episode or not. So next line:
I was a bit bored, to be honest.
If that seems unduly harsh, all things considered, I originally wrote:
God, I was bored.
Which is even more brutal. The Dow’s down 700 points. Fuck. When I started talking about this on Twitter earlier, someone said that there’d still be money if all the banks fail, we’ll have feudalism. Yeah, great. Twitter’s great. The MarsRover has just said that it’s snowing on Mars. So it’s not all bad. Anyway, having drowned everyone with that surprise, I knew I had to be a bit conciliatory. But only a bit:
Oh don’t get me wrong I know to some extent that it’s because my expectation of this series is capable of doing were raised by the best stories from last year, particularly Whatever Happened To Sarah Jane?. But between the predictable storytelling, stodgy exposition and disappointing characterisation it felt for all the world like the show some of us feared it had the capacity to be. And before you wonder, no this isn’t going to be a rerun of that trixy review of The Silence In The Library and I’m going to say suddenly, hooray, this was brilliant after all. F.A.B. R.T.D.! Nope.
I get really annoyed with myself when I write a line like that. As well as including the odd prop word, it refers back to something I’ve already written here, on the assumption that regular readers will get the reference. I try and justify it by saying it’s the blogging equivalent of mentioning an old storyline in drama, but really its desperation. I think it’s about here that I’m starting to get lost. And I've lost my sense of humour:
I know that part of this is to do with the downshift in complexity from the past series of the mother series, the return to a more simplistic running around on show here, so allied to ol’-Who in which the title more often than not provided a synopsis of the plot. There’s a wee bit more to this – the story being a direct sequel to the not universally liked Sontaran story from the previous season of the mother series – but subbing Sarah Jane and friends for a grey haired gent and his army pals and you’d pretty much have the first twenty-five minutes of a Pertwee story.
The difference is of course that whereas then, the brainwashed scientist would have been a government stooge, here he’s someone’s dad. Then, there would have been endless shots of Bessie flying through the countryside with cutaways to the Master asking all in sundry to obey him, whereas now we’re gripped by the angst of Maria, one of the best characters to hit the franchise, being shunted off to America and Luke stressing over Clyde disobeying Sarah Jane’s instructions not to venture into the forest (what is she his mother?).
I’ve already talked about this last year and also to an extent it’s stating the obvious. At this point I was desperately trying not to drift into synopsis; one of the problems I have with modern review is the tendency to simply tell the story of whatever’s under consideration when more often than not the reader is either thinking of going to see the thing in which case it’s being spoiled; on this occasion you’ve all seen it so what’s the point? Notice the length of the paragraphs so far. One of the other problems with the episode at least for this reviewer, is that there isn’t an awful lot to write about, especially since my imagination's on the blink too. Next, I try and explain what I didn’t like:
But the reveal of Maria’s expatriation simply lacked drama. Why disclose something like so early when we can spend the story or episode wondering why she’s being so sullen instead? I know that pre-broadcast spoilers, from Russell himself no less, explained why Yasmin Paige was only going to be in this first story, but considering what’s possible in the franchise, does the methodology have to be quite so perfunctory? Plus, the repartee between Clyde and Luke lacked zing, it wasn’t funny. It used to be funny, at least funnier than this. Sontarans look like potatoes. Huh-huh-huh.
What I don’t like about this is that its lacks something. It just seems relentlessly mean spirited and it’s not very specific, again because I don’t feel like there was much to say, I don’t really have an opinion. I’m getting desperate so I think I’ve decided to not like the episode much simply because to love it would to mean I’d have nowhere to go. So I say:
Phil Ford’s script simply didn’t swing. I think he was over compensating for the timeslot which is something I don’t remember happening last year. The Sontaran’s closing monologue seemed to go on forever, and though it was interesting to see Sarah’s reaction to discovering that in order to win the Doctor had to down a whole Sontaran brigade, and a mini-squee was necessary for the mention of the Rutans, there seemed to be a dramatic disconnect, despite the flashbacks. We’re back to watching the potential destruction of the planet based on data on a screen from a small room.
I don’t often like picking on individual writers, unless their surname is Chibnall, and over time it’s becoming apparent that in Cardiff, the name on the script doesn’t necessarily match the name of the person who wrote most of it. Plus, it looks like a large percentage of the episode budget was spent on the CG effects and I want to mention that but I can’t find anywhere to shoehorn it in. Now here’s the paragraph I always seem to end up writing, and I’m never happy with that either:
There were admittedly a few good lines (“But you’ve only just decorated.”) but if the episode worked at all it’s because of the regular elements. This is a great little cast and it’ll be a shame to see Yasmin go; like the best ensembles, even when the material isn’t all there, you’re simply happy to be watching them (see also season two of Heroes). This one was also very well directed by Joss Agnew, with lots of use of pov shots to create mystery and useful editing during the action sequences and the design worked to create depth with the facility having a perfect lived in look – this is very much a mom and pop facility.
The best reviews have an argument and some of mine do to. But I’m so desperate not to leave anything I did like out and for what I’m writing not to be so relentlessly negative that I throw a couple of the positives together in a block of text like this at the end. I should just stick to my guns, I know, and I’m seriously thinking of cutting this. Huh. They're saying that reason Sarah Palin's CBS interview was rubbish was because she was over prepared. I feel like that. I was so desperate here for my writing not to turn into a list, reduced to a flowery version of 'I liked the music' 'I didn't like the Sontaran' it has a tendency to become opinionless. At the end though I think I might win things back a bit:
In writing all this I feel like I’ve drowned someone’s kitten (especially after seeing the reaction at Outpost Gallifrey) and it could be that I have reached my Who limit and can’t see the fish for the chips (which should make watching The Trial of a Timelord boxset fun). This is only the opening episode though, and the first of the season, which as we’ve seen in The Writer’s Tale, is never an easy matter for a writer to get their head around. Now that everything’s been set up, next week’s episode could be a zinger, with much talk of probic vents and the kids using their random history homework to fight against the Sontaran. Let’s hope so.
At which point my inspiration truly imploded. We’ll not speak of this again.
Sometimes I wish I was a girl
Life I went clothes shopping today. I’m not particularly good at clothes. It’s like anything else – there’s a language to it, knowing what suites you, what the fashion is, what’s available, and unless you've studied, or immersed yourself ... I think I briefly understood for about two weeks in 1997 but soon lost it and now I tend to just wear a white t-shirt and jeans everywhere. To the point that if I wear anything else people notice. I know this isn’t a good thing by any stretch of the imagination, and there is a certain laziness involved, but it’s also because the very nice clothes always cost very nice prices and never really having had much money ever in life, I still baulk at the prices. I think it's genetic. Not even Hadley Freeman could convince me that £35 is a decent price for a jumper even though I know intellectually that everyone from the designer to the manufacturer to the people working in the shop and the shop’s landlord have to be paid.
Not having a clue what this season’s colour is, I decided it was blues and greens and bought long sleeve t-shirt and a light green jumper from department stores, plus ordered a grey jumper from M&S. I think they suite me. It’s that long since I have seen anything remotely like a colour on my torso I’m hazarding a guess that they do. They don't look horrible, which is a start. Walking about I tried to see what other men, my peers, were wearing and was placated by the fact that actually, none of them seemed to know what they were doing. Only now and then did anything seem to match, only now and then did I think – if only I had his style. Plus most people with my age and frame of mind would have been working in an office whilst I was out and about which means the comparisons I was making were generally with students who’re a whole decade younger than me and surely there’s a generational detachment?
It won’t end here. At the age of 34 (which I will be at the end of October) I should be more conscious of what I look like. Sometimes I wish I was a girl, if only because you seem to have a much bigger choice of what you can wear and in fact you can also wear man clothes if they suit you. With us its jeans or trousers, t-shirts or shirts, v-neck or crop and a jacket or coat. Perhaps a scarf. You can make yourselves look amazing even in winter. Glancing through the many shops I strolled through today, I saw clothes that I couldn’t imagine anyone wearing, with outrageous printing, jumpers with part of kind of fake t-shirt sewn around the neck hole and perfectly good jumper with fabric attachments added in places which will inevitably mean they'll be ripped off when passing a door handle. That's assuming they even fit my body shape, so closely does it mimic a brontosaurus. I'm probably incurable.
Not having a clue what this season’s colour is, I decided it was blues and greens and bought long sleeve t-shirt and a light green jumper from department stores, plus ordered a grey jumper from M&S. I think they suite me. It’s that long since I have seen anything remotely like a colour on my torso I’m hazarding a guess that they do. They don't look horrible, which is a start. Walking about I tried to see what other men, my peers, were wearing and was placated by the fact that actually, none of them seemed to know what they were doing. Only now and then did anything seem to match, only now and then did I think – if only I had his style. Plus most people with my age and frame of mind would have been working in an office whilst I was out and about which means the comparisons I was making were generally with students who’re a whole decade younger than me and surely there’s a generational detachment?
It won’t end here. At the age of 34 (which I will be at the end of October) I should be more conscious of what I look like. Sometimes I wish I was a girl, if only because you seem to have a much bigger choice of what you can wear and in fact you can also wear man clothes if they suit you. With us its jeans or trousers, t-shirts or shirts, v-neck or crop and a jacket or coat. Perhaps a scarf. You can make yourselves look amazing even in winter. Glancing through the many shops I strolled through today, I saw clothes that I couldn’t imagine anyone wearing, with outrageous printing, jumpers with part of kind of fake t-shirt sewn around the neck hole and perfectly good jumper with fabric attachments added in places which will inevitably mean they'll be ripped off when passing a door handle. That's assuming they even fit my body shape, so closely does it mimic a brontosaurus. I'm probably incurable.
I live my life like an international rock star.
I am Ministry of the Treasury of the Republic of America.
I lead a charmed life, full of travel, a life dictated by and dedicated to travel, and it will be this way for the rest of my life.
Sweden is by far the worst: I've yet to encounter a hotel there with tea- and coffee making facilities and ironing gear in the hotel room - and I've stayed in quite a few hotels there.
I know a good number of folks from the great State of Alaska, and they are thinking about a recall.
Rachel McAdams is an actress who can generally get me to watch just about anything — even a Rob Schneider movie.
Usually, in my other movies, I was the transgressive woman and they were not the transgressive directors. They were filming a transgressive woman without being transgressive themselves.
This was not the fairy tale I vaguely recalled from my childhood - the one with the mother who gives up her child, the vindictive witch, the powerless girl trapped high above the ground.
I lead a charmed life, full of travel, a life dictated by and dedicated to travel, and it will be this way for the rest of my life.
Sweden is by far the worst: I've yet to encounter a hotel there with tea- and coffee making facilities and ironing gear in the hotel room - and I've stayed in quite a few hotels there.
I know a good number of folks from the great State of Alaska, and they are thinking about a recall.
Rachel McAdams is an actress who can generally get me to watch just about anything — even a Rob Schneider movie.
Usually, in my other movies, I was the transgressive woman and they were not the transgressive directors. They were filming a transgressive woman without being transgressive themselves.
This was not the fairy tale I vaguely recalled from my childhood - the one with the mother who gives up her child, the vindictive witch, the powerless girl trapped high above the ground.
Which is shameful.
Film Turns out I've seen 399 of the Empire 500. Here, largely for my own memory is the list of movies I haven't seen:
Jailhouse Rock
In The Company Of Men
Princess Mononoke
Sweeney Todd: The Demon Barber Of Fleet Street
Superbad
The Son's Room
The Secret Life Of Walter Mitty
Flesh
Santa Sangre
Pirates Of The Caribbean: Dead Man's Chest
Into The Wild
Le Doulos
Juno
Ikiru
Indiana Jones And The Kingdom Of The Crystal Skull
Dumb And Dumber
Hairspray
Electra Glide In Blue
Danger: Diabolik
The Enigma Of Kaspar Hauser
A Man Escaped
Lords Of Dogtown
Iron Man
Greed
Killer of Sheep
The Great Silence
Ace In The Hole
Army Of Darkness
Pirates Of The Caribbean: The Curse Of The Black Pearl
Rocky
Airplane!
The Return
The Lady Eve
Napoléon
Un Chien Andalou
Unfaithfully Yours
Arthur
Zulu
The Gold Rush
The Passenger
High And Low
The Green Mile
Suspiria
The Best Years Of Our Lives
Sawdust And Tinsel
The Palm Beach Story
The Red Balloon
La Maman Et La Putain
Rocco And His Brothers
On The Town
Carlito’s Way
My Neighbour Totoro
The Bird With The Crystal Plumage
Pee-Wee’s Big Adventure
The Death Of Mr. Lazarescu
A Place In The Sun
Das Boot
The Black Cat
Le Quai Des Brumes
Ninotchka
First Blood
The Leopard
Darling
Downfall
Heimat
Howl’s Moving Castle
No Country For Old Men
Mother And Son
Sunday Bloody Sunday
Songs From The Second Floor
Army Of Shadows
The Misfits
The Killer
Bicycle Thieves
Paths Of Glory
The Big Country
Performance
Beyond The Valley Of The Dolls
To Kill A Mockingbird
Hellzapoppin
A Canterbury Tale
Viridiana
The Year Of Living Dangerously
The Innocents
Shampoo
Z
Blow Out
Cool Hand Luke
Los Olvidados
The Wages Of Fear
I Am Cuba
The Tree Of Wooden Clogs
A Man For All Seasons
Raising Arizona
Yojimbo
Spirit Of The Beehive
Harold And Maude
Come And See
Evil Dead 2
Andrei Rublev
Before you say -- not I haven't seen Cool Hand Luke or Harold and Maude or On The Town. Which is shameful.
Jailhouse Rock
In The Company Of Men
Princess Mononoke
Sweeney Todd: The Demon Barber Of Fleet Street
Superbad
The Son's Room
The Secret Life Of Walter Mitty
Flesh
Santa Sangre
Pirates Of The Caribbean: Dead Man's Chest
Into The Wild
Le Doulos
Juno
Ikiru
Indiana Jones And The Kingdom Of The Crystal Skull
Dumb And Dumber
Hairspray
Electra Glide In Blue
Danger: Diabolik
The Enigma Of Kaspar Hauser
A Man Escaped
Lords Of Dogtown
Iron Man
Greed
Killer of Sheep
The Great Silence
Ace In The Hole
Army Of Darkness
Pirates Of The Caribbean: The Curse Of The Black Pearl
Rocky
Airplane!
The Return
The Lady Eve
Napoléon
Un Chien Andalou
Unfaithfully Yours
Arthur
Zulu
The Gold Rush
The Passenger
High And Low
The Green Mile
Suspiria
The Best Years Of Our Lives
Sawdust And Tinsel
The Palm Beach Story
The Red Balloon
La Maman Et La Putain
Rocco And His Brothers
On The Town
Carlito’s Way
My Neighbour Totoro
The Bird With The Crystal Plumage
Pee-Wee’s Big Adventure
The Death Of Mr. Lazarescu
A Place In The Sun
Das Boot
The Black Cat
Le Quai Des Brumes
Ninotchka
First Blood
The Leopard
Darling
Downfall
Heimat
Howl’s Moving Castle
No Country For Old Men
Mother And Son
Sunday Bloody Sunday
Songs From The Second Floor
Army Of Shadows
The Misfits
The Killer
Bicycle Thieves
Paths Of Glory
The Big Country
Performance
Beyond The Valley Of The Dolls
To Kill A Mockingbird
Hellzapoppin
A Canterbury Tale
Viridiana
The Year Of Living Dangerously
The Innocents
Shampoo
Z
Blow Out
Cool Hand Luke
Los Olvidados
The Wages Of Fear
I Am Cuba
The Tree Of Wooden Clogs
A Man For All Seasons
Raising Arizona
Yojimbo
Spirit Of The Beehive
Harold And Maude
Come And See
Evil Dead 2
Andrei Rublev
Before you say -- not I haven't seen Cool Hand Luke or Harold and Maude or On The Town. Which is shameful.
Shining Darkness.
Books Considering he has a ship which can travel anywhere in existence at any time (give or take a timelock or two), never mind his fondness for Earth, the Doctor takes very few trips outside of the Milky Way. So it’s also ways a novelty when he pitches up in the Isop Galaxy or Andromeda as in Mark Michalowski’s Shining Darkness. It’s a bit like those episodes of Eastenders which venture outside the comfort zone of Walford, though in Doctor Who’s case it offers the writer even more scope to create a world, since the usual laws of society or physics needn’t necessarily apply. Except, as Michalowski’s book demonstrates, more often than not, it’s problems are all too often like our own, which is as it should be probably otherwise what’s the point?Wanting to show Donna a part of the universe even he’s not too aware of, The Doctor takes her for a visit to an Andromedran art gallery, but there’s not much time to decide if the work on offer beats this year’s Turner prize before they’ve each been misappropriated to the starships of two sides of a cat and mouse chase across the galaxy. The companion’s captors, The Cult of Shining Darkness, that galaxy’s equivalent of white supremacists are attempting to collect sections of some device to help in their fight against the mechanicals who as far as they're concerned are stealing their part of the universe from the 'organics'. Hot on their heals, the time lord hitches with the small band of fighters tasked with stopping them. It’s not the most complex of stories; both parties appear at various locations such as junk yards, fight over a thing then move on to the next one, battling to get the upper hand (cf, The Infinite Quest).
What makes it interesting and indeed a pleasure to read is Mark Michalowski. I’ve been very pleased with his comic strips in both DWM and DWA and enjoyed the cute overload that was his previous book in this range, Wetworld, and Shining Darkness offers a definite development in style, as the author very closely pastiches the kind of idiom of deviation and derivation usually perpetrated by Terry Pratchett and Douglas Adams, with moments in which the story takes a break whilst he offers some background to events outside of the character’s point of view all the better to increase the humour quotient and where all the Doctor and Donna can do is look on whilst the petty differences which permeate our society are extrapolated onto, for example, a couple of robotic assassins.
Which means that a story which in other hands would be a fairly fun if predictable romp is at times laugh out loud funny. Some of this is self referential – there are tips of the hat to (deep breath) the spiritually similar unfairly-maligned-still Graham Williams-produced trad era as well as early parts of the new series. Much of the time it’s just that the author is trying and succeeding in being clever and assuming that his audience is looking for something with more depth than many of these books offer. There’s an amazingly gutsy passage which I’ll not spoil for you which plunges headlong into the debate about the viability of organised religion as well as pointing out elsewhere that in fact everyone is ultimately racist and there’s not very much you can do about it.
Some might find the treatment of that last point to be a bit heavy handed – and in the middle of the book to an extent the Doctor turns into a kind of timelord Louis Theroux coming to terms with the bizarre value system of the cult and how they can't understand why man and machine would want to live in perfect harmony. The supporting characters too are fairly functional with the cult pinioned on a familiar Pertwee villian trope of the bureaucrat with shaky beliefs and standards relying on someone who has both and neither being chased by Lost In Space’s Will Robinson and Robot (though the latter undoubtedly has a drier-wit). But Mark's overall wit and portrayal of the Doctor and Donna keep you reading as he perfectly captures their performances, particularly Catherine Tate, modulating the shrillness with the smarts, and demonstrating that when the history of this era of the show is written down, she’ll be considered one of the best companions, the Ginger Goddess indeed. And you’ll have to read it to find out what that means. Delightful.
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