Lego Blog: Minifigure Madness

Posted on 1 May 201314 January 2020 By Captain Pigheart

Wrooargh The Bricks Of Change

Minifigs, minifigures, Lego men (and women). They are an amazing complement to the sheer joy that the bricks can bring. They have improved over the years too. I’m sure when I was little there were only two faces (smiling and not smiling), nowt but yellow in the physog department and accessories were either walkie-talkies (still ace) or things that might be guns.

The recent blind bag series that Lego have brought out (we’re up to series 10 now) have made my obsession with Lego acceptable to my partner, who is now in a bag-squeezing frenzy to find Medusa. We don’t dick around by buying tonnes of them – blind bags are an abomination and a vile exploitation of enthusiasm. Screw them – just spend a bit of time in the supermarket fondling the packets.

I’ve acquired a decent little collection of minifigs over the last few years, plus a handful from the decade before (in which Lego purchases were an escape from crippling depression and guided by alcohol). I thought it might be nice to ramble about a handful of favourites. I’ve mostly left out the newer bagged minifigures because I reckon they get enough exposure.

Joy

Fabuland Heffalump

Does anyone else remember Fabuland? It was the Duplo animal headed weirdness of the early-mid ’80s. My mum found this chap for me in the wreckage of my youth. I don’t know why he doesn’t have eyes. There is the suggestion of them though. Perhaps in the darkness of boxes skin grew over his eyes… I’m sure that’s it. I loved these guys. I also have the crow figure but he’s so badly scratched I can’t show him here for fear of affrighting you.

Space man, I just want to fly away (or something)

The little blue dude here is from a Lego Space jumper I had, he’s got a plastic press stud on his back and came unstuck constantly. Terrible idea for clothing. I had tonnes (maybe four) of these guys and always loved the zip on the suit. It’s nice to see how far spacemen have come in Lego. Next to him is the recent hot pink spacelady. New faces, detail jobs on full front, back and legs. Awesome face, good hair and a quite different helmet.

Aliens

These chaps didn’t seem to hang about for long, but I adore their faces and the chest images. The interestingly shaped helmets, some of which were transparent have remained some of the coolest things that Lego ever made. They came with a rather nice flying saucer that I must rebuild one of these days.

Increasing Awesomeness

Lego accessories, paint jobs and hats have come a very long way. We’re almost seeing some gender balance in the recent minifigure series. The Bee Lady is one of several brilliant costumed figures Lego have put out (I used the Godzilla costume here). The hat is rubber, like the new Yoda heads and a few other hair accessories (see the Friends below). She also has wings. Wings. Gorgeous all round.

A Nice Bit of Skirt

The new ‘skirt’ pieces for lady figures has made them easily identifiable in blind bags, but it also makes the model rather lovely too. The Wicked Witch of The West is very satisfying, and has a nice broom. The other figure here is a vampire hunter – the lovely garlic clove and ripped clothes add texture and freshness to all of these figures. Her hair is also rubber and has a crossbow bolt in it. She was one of the first figures I saw with two faces – both with a scar.

Just More of Everything

The Ewoks were the first figures I saw with the short legs now in general use for Hobbit, leprechauns and so on. The Ewok paintjob and detail has improved from their first appearance as well. Logray is much cooler than unidentifiable forest shadow. It’s almost like Lego were slow to realise how much everyone would love the Star Wars range. I believe they know now.

Hats On, Hats Off

The Green Goblin and the Apeman Costume show the details improving over the years, along with a sense of humour. The sweaty little ape costumed fellow is a winner, with nice paunch on the front and a splendid helmet. The Green Goblin is from a few years ago and you can see that in the moulded but unpainted helmet. He’s got a great face and armour though (and the back of his head is painted).

Lego Chima – the new Fabuland?

I’ve only got a few of the Chima dudes, but I pulled in when I realised the faces were helmets and they had dual expressions underneath. Everything about these guys is brilliant – detail all over them, plus the faces, masks and they often cool things like wings and weapons you have to assemble. The faces are a bit odd. The croc dudes are genuinely scary and the lion’s eyes worry me.

Lego Friends Reunited

I blogged about Lego Friends last week. I’m still keen, especially once I realised that although the heads can’t be swapped, the hats and hair can be… I could do this literally all day:

The Desert Crystals – Part Six: The Sweet Night Air

Posted on 2 May 201321 October 2019 By Captain Pigheart

Part 6 – The Sweet Night Air

Lord Emmaline Corshorn’s airship The Dove’s Eye raced through the night sky, propellers forcing her forward, in hot pursuit of the creature that had torn the nightwatch mate, Jacob Bublesnatch, from the cockpit while they were thousands of feet in the air. The airship had reached unheard of heights – no one knew what might dwell in such a rarefied and chilly band of the atmosphere. The deck was jammed with men – the full complement of crew and passengers gaping at the sight that offered itself to their curiosity.

To those standing agog on deck it seemed as if a black twisting mass were being vomited upon the airship. In reality it was just the caves of a vast floating cliffside disgorging its armada of winged and clawed monsters upon the airship. That didn’t help with the panic. The presence of the Sky Mountain had already shaken the nerves of a superstitious crew, and the frothing flock of teeth and claws heading their way might have inspired a marine crew to abandon ship. But it was a long way down and aeronauts are of sterner stuff.

Still, the crew dallied; agape and with shaking fingers they muttered, shouted and wailed. Their passengers, by way of contrast were engaged in an escalating argument about the nature of the beasts:

“They clearly have wings of skin – see how their shape is so clearly lined by the moon. Therefore they must be mammalian. How else could they retain their body heat?” demanded Rosenhatch Traverstorm.

“Well, first I’d dispute your assertion by the distance over which you judge them. A closer inspection will doubtless reveal their reptilian nature. Furthermore-” Harvey’s critique was interrupted by a bellow from their captain.

“Man your posts for battle!” cried Lord Emmaline, “Jasparz to the armaments – arm the crew.” His words cut through the nervous confusion, his crew swiftly moved to their places and began handing out the airships weapons. He grimly laid his own pistol on the sill of the cockpit and hardened his grip on the wheel.

The creatures flew directly for the speeding airship. To Traverstorm it seemed like just moments before they met. His eyes were fixed on the incursion, spotting and identifying characteristics, comparing them with his encyclopaedic knowledge of beasts known and rumoured. He cursed under his breath as the first of the swarm approached. Their wings were arranged in pairs, with two pairs of black leathery wings beating in alternate rhythm. Beneath and between the wing beats hung long distended bodies, like the tortured thorax and abdomen of a Gorilla Beetle; hanging off them a thrashing mass of jointed tentaculate limbs, viciously clawed, reaching out for the crew. The face… the head seemed nothing but teeth, slavering lips drawn back taut leaving a ring of fangs to thrust forward, ridged larval tongue lashing out – tasting the air.

Traverstorm hunkered down, telescope in hand, between a pair of burly crew toting rifles and gave them a wide-eyed look, “I’d shoot first if I were you.”

The first wave of winged monsters came within reach of the guns; tattered wings and holed bodies spiralled downwards. The crew were admirable shots, but the flock was undeterred. Thicker and heavier they swarmed the airship. Rifle and pistols discharged, killed, were reloaded and found yet more targets. Presumably drawn by the presence of the men on deck, it took the creatures a few waves before they noticed the balloon hanging above the ship. Dozens of them peeled off from the attack to rush, claws extended at the vulnerable bag of gas. The crew kept their shots away from the balloon. Jasparz, the man who had handed out the armaments watched the beasts begin to alight on the ropes and network that bound the airship together. He waited far longer than Traverstorm was comfortable with before finally calling to the captain,

“Now, sir!”

Lord Emmaline grimaced and flipped open a panel on his console, then flicked the pair of switches beneath. A terrific surge of electricity roared through the cables winding about the balloon, and through the sky beasts clinging to them. They convulsed, then dropped steaming out of the air.

“That should deter them. Keep it up lads.”

The crew continued to fire into the horde, but they were relentless. The first of the beasts gripped the rail of the airship and seized a mate by the face. He fired directly into the creature’s body and it fell back, hauling him over the side. His safety rope snapped out, swinging the hapless man under the airship. His mates moved swiftly to reel him back in, but their action left a gap in the line; the creatures filled it. They swarmed into the space, over the bodies of the men engaged in rescuing their friend. Abruptly they were on deck and behind the crew – as well as in front.

Men began to fall under the clawed onslaught and the crew turned to vicious knives and axes for close quarters combat. A violent stuttering roar filled the air and the wave of crawling stabbing monsters exploded in gouts of gore and chitinous flesh. The crew cowered under the slashing rage of the sound, as their foes were cut to ribbons and hurled from the airship. The roar paused, as did the steady chink of brassy shells that bounced off the deck and out into the void. Harvey had rejoined the crew, a massive spinning cluster of barrels bound to his segmented armour. Firing controls were gripped firmly in his foremost appendages and he clacked his mandibles in satisfaction .

“Apologies for the delay gentlemen, this takes some time to strap on,” the centipede stalked up to the centre of the foredeck and let loose with another pounding salvo into the encroaching pack of demons.

“Captain,” cried Traverstorm, clinging to the glassless hole of the cockpit, “we’ll never hold them off here – they can attack on all sides and their numbers seem undiminished.”

“Once more, my gratitude for your keen observation overwhelms my natural irritation at being instructed in the how best to apply saliva to an egg,” Traverstorm had the grace to at least blush, “that is precisely why we are going there-” the captain thrust his arm forwards. Traverstorm followed his finger. It lead to a vast cave that loomed before them. In the heat of battle Traverstorm had barely noticed that they were still heading for the sky mountain. They were now merely a hundred feet from the cliff – it stretched high above and below them, as if they were falling to earth.

“But captain, we have no idea what lies within!”

“We know what’s out here and we can’t survive it for much longer. In there they will be unable to surround us,” he turned from Traverstorm and bellowed to the crew, “Clear the decks! Prepare yourselves!”

The cave mouth yawned over them and they were swallowed, deck, rigging and balloon all.

Next Week: Part 7 – This Hellish Hole

The Desert Crystals – Part Five: The Obsidian Eyrie (captainpigheart.com)
The Desert Crystals: part 4 The Frothing Horror (captainpigheart.com)
The Desert Crystals: part 3 The Edge of Night (captainpigheart.com)
The Desert Crystals: part 2 (captainpigheart.com)
The Desert Crystals: part 1 (captainpigheart.com)

Beer Review: Three Zero Alcohol Beers

Posted on 3 May 201311 January 2020 By Captain Pigheart

Optimism: The Glass Is Half Empty, But It Can Be Refilled

Not content with finding a few good non-alcoholic beers I was convinced that someone else must do a good one – there’s no way I could have found a winner so fast (Erdinger). Well, I did. Yay me. I’ve found three more alternatives (and no I’m not drinking fruit juice) to proper beer. This is my last week of not drinking alcohol and I cannot wait for whiskey and real beer again.

Holsten Pils Zero Alcohol Beer

Imagine my relief when I found pubs in Nottingham with an alternative to Beck’s Blue! This seems to be the only other regular alternative. It’s not bad, and they have it in my Thursday regular The Cock And Hoop. Like most bottled pub beer it comes in a 330ml bottle, which I find a pitiful quantity. I realise that groups of men wearing identical checked shirts regard this as the natural accessory to looking like an identikit over-the-hill twat in town. However, for the rest of us who normally drink from glasses and don’t have a bandy legged swagger, this is a disappointing amount to be charged almost as much as a pint of decent ale for.

The price/volume is all I’ve got to complain about when pressing this to my lips. It tastes fine – like most of the poorer pilsners it doesn’t taste of a great deal, but it is quite refreshing. I’m happy to chug a couple in the pub. The next day though – wow. I have never had hangovers like the headaches I seem to get after this stuff. Might just be me, so I’d be interested in hearing if others get zero-alc hangovers. Kind of annoying…
Rating: Highland Cattle

Bitburger Drive Alcohol Free Beer

I’ve been asking for recommendations during this period of self-imposed torture. Remarkably most people offered Beck’s Blue (I now disregard every opinion they put forward) or Bitburger Drive. I finally tracked this one down in the Kean’s Head. Delightfully the barman provided a range of fancy glassware to make me feel better about drinking it.

I like ordinary Bitburger, it’s clean and refreshing. This ‘driving’ version is also a smooth drink, but has a bewildering dehydrating property. I swear this stuff was wicking away the moisture from my mouth even as I drank it. Incredible. If they put Bitburger Drive in sports t-shirts they would actually work. It gives me a slight dilemma, because it did taste fine (like the Holsten Pils) but I was coughing and had to get a glass of water to go with it. Very odd.
Rating: Camel

Kopparberg Alcohol Free Cider

I know what you’re thinking – that’s not beer. And you are correct. It certainly is not beer. It was the only alternative to the deathbrew Blue at a Wetherspoons and I was feeling experimental. I don’t often drink cider, not after the 12% white cider my Dad brewed when I was a teen, but I figured this would be like Appletise or something. It’s a 500ml bottle so looks sensible in a pint glass and I felt like I fitted in again. It was lovely until I tasted it.

My first impression was that Willy Wonka had produced a drink to kill small children with diabetes. So sugary that my teeth instantly hurt. It has no flavour other than sweetness. If you got a brick of Haribo sweets and threw them at your own face it might replicate the drinking sensation. That’s not fair – it’s more like Swizzels and Matlow’s Double Dipper in drink form. I drank it with a straw.

Sadly I had to abandon this one about halfway down the glass as I couldn’t taste the food I was eating and the sweetness gave me a headache. The aftertaste, reminiscent of Lemon Tango used as mouthwash, stayed with me through half a packet of gum and toothbrushing. Impressive. I don’t know what Kopparberg is usually like so I can’t speculate about how badly, or accurately they’ve converted it.
Rating: Sugar Glider

Beer Review: Four Zero Alcohol Beers (captainpigheart.com)

This week, Monday 6th May 2013

Posted on 6 May 2013 By Captain Pigheart

Summertime and Living Is Queasy

The weeks flash by like crudely animated horses in a Kinder Egg zoetrope. Consequently I can barely recall what I’ve been doing… it was a quiet week in the evenings at any rate and a modicum of progress has been made. A modicum ain’t much no matter how you quantise it. I’m going to assume I did loads and that the sheer weight of effort has overwhelmed my primitive memory.

This has been my last zero alcohol week too… I am disturbed to find that there are a few of those beers that I really do like. The last one I came across was Bavaria 0.0%. It’s delicious. Even better it’s sold at the insane, face-slapping-awake price of £1.50 for 6 330ml cans. That’s cheaper than any other soft drink I can think of. It’s about to become my regular non-beer drink for the summer. Seriously that price blows my mind. It has a creamy smooth texture which I suppose is most like cream soda. I’m sitting in the cinema with two of them set to accompany Iron Man 3…

♥ This week’s scribbles

Tuesday Autofiction: Accusation and Prejudice

Context and judgement afflict us all, how should we make decisions?

Wednesday Live Storytelling: A Story from MissImp in Action

When I get to monologise on stage it gets weird, quickly.

Thursday The Desert Crystals – Part Seven: This Hellish Hole

Darkness has swallowed the crew of The Dove’s Eye

Friday Film Review: Olympus Has Fallen

It’s Die Hard in the White House!

Updates on my thrilling life

Writing

I’m chasing myself to keep up at the moment. The mornings are a time of blind gaping until shower and coffee are absorbed. Maybe I need to get up earlier… Hmm. But yeah, I spent last week catching up. I didn’t write The Desert Crystals Part 6 until Wednesday evening. I just didn’t manage to start it earlier. I suspect it might be a bit weaker than some of the other chapters. I will do better! Once I’d found the time it wasn’t a struggle to write, which remains encouraging and enjoyable. I fancy the prospect of this becoming a very long running series, though that might make it tricky to catch up with should someone come into it half way through. Sorry!

They say you should write what you know. I’ve never decided if that limits or exposes you – I think it can be both. Clearly what I write about are not events that I have or could have experienced, but I do try to write my characters in ways that I can conceive of. Their feelings are sometimes mine, and their reactions and responses are, as in improv, things that I can imagine doing or saying. Whether another person can know that this this is the case, or guess it from what’s given in stories and these autobiographical bits is unclear to me.

Last week’s scribbles

Tuesday Shankata – Layers of Hatred Accrued Poetically Just a few more angry rantings for you.

Wednesday Lego Lego Blog: Minifigure Madness A little delve into my Lego heap and some playing with hair.

Thursday The Desert Crystals – Part Six: The Sweet Night Air The beasts in the night!

Friday Beer Review: Three Zero Alcohol Beers Perhaps the final three no alcohol beers I shall ever drink…

Lego

I really enjoyed getting my minifigs out last week (if you know what I mean) and taking pictures of them. Oddly I don’t recall playing with Lego as a child in the same way as I would with Star Wars, Action Force and Transformers toys. It was the building and disassembly I enjoyed. So I think that hour with swapping heads and hair was more than I used to play even back then.

I’ve been taking a travelling case of Lego to work with me for the last week – see the awesome gold Ferrero Rocher box in the picture. It makes for for a very relaxing half hour’s play at lunchtime. I’m not great at relaxing, but the sound the Lego makes as I turn tht case over sparks a flame of joy in my heart. I’m focussing on miniaturisation due to time constraints using a heap of Lego Friends stuff and Lego Chima.

I also watched a couple of Feminist Frequency podcasts recommended by a fellow Lego enthusiast about Lego’s messed up gender segregation. Really interesting and right on the mark. Check ’em out:

Improv Comedy

No Fisticuffs this week, which was a sadness but a blessed night off too. I ran last week’s improv jam though and tried to fuse what Parky and Lloydie have been focussing on for the last month into something new and cool. My aim was sychronisation of minds, that elusive group mind concept which is tough enough to get with people you know well and a step harder with near-strangers. So it was to be an intimate, intensive affair. I was therefore thrilled when we got abruptly shifted out of our regular space (some art installation thing) and into The City Gallery – a tiny venue. Then twenty people turned up. I could have compromised my plan, I chose not to, except for dropping a warm up game that required three times the space for half as many people.

We played a series of familiar exercises. First a form of rope, in pairs identifying the key groundings for a scene – names, activity, place and feelings. There was a lovely energy and the setups were simple, funny and concise. Next came justification and agreement. I borrowed Jules Munn’s simple “that’s because” exercise, in which every exchange begins with justifying what had just been said. These get hysterical and ridiculous quite quickly. I found mine returned repeatedly to hippy attitudes in the ’60s Odd. Finally we moved on to inspiration, patterns and games: word association in pairs again but spread out through the room. The cycle begins with a statement and the association follows that, responding both to the word that you hear and holdng the initial statement in the back of your mind. Tricky, but it produced a lot of laughter and really interesting patterns and wheels of ideas.

Those exercises and the habits of grounding, justification and inspiration lead into three person sets of scenes. Each set was preceded by a quote from one of three books I’d brought. The trio would then word associate (focussing on each other) until they felt ready to begin the first scene. The three scenes were mostly fairly short, but they all got to the point and were set up quickly and smartly. Whatever we did seemed to work!

Come And Learn…

Mebbe you’d like to improvise too? Well, Parky and I shall be running the next MissImp improv beginners course starting on 13th May for 6 weeks. If you’re interested, and you should be – check out the details here: http://missimp.co.uk/improv-comedy-training-in-nottingham/improv-comedy-courses-in-nottingham/

Media Intake

Books

I finished the second of Terrence Zavecz’ Cretaceous Station novels, Hunter’s Moon. I didn’t enjoy it as much as the first, but I still enjoyed the dinosaurs (feathery!) and the lists of scientific articles at the end of each chapter to back up his research. I moved on to a collection of short stories. Still chewing my way through them. I’ll get back to you when I’ve finished it.

Events and Excitement

Gorilla Burger – Thursday 9th May

7.30pm at The Corner, Nottingham.
Improv for everyone – on stage!

MissImp in Action – Friday 31st May

8.30pm at The Glee Club, Nottingham.
High energy improvised comedy show.

Weeks That Have Come Before

This week, Monday 18th March 2013 (captainpigheart.com)
This week, Monday 22nd April 2013 (captainpigheart.com)
This week, Monday 29th April 2013 (captainpigheart.com)

Autofiction: Interpretation

Posted on 7 May 201311 December 2022 By Captain Pigheart

This Is Not A Work Related Post

Just wanted to be clear about that. Apparently it’s important. Perhaps to be even clearer, this is a fictionalised account of the sort of thing that might happen to a person. When I reach out for a name, perhaps when I can’t quite remember someone’s name, or when I allocate a default, it’s usually Dave for a man and Julia for a girl. I don’t really know why. Maybe in my head they are everyman names – certainly they’re fairly common, but more importantly they don’t conjure any specific connotations for me. That makes them useful, I can project what I fancy for characterisation when on stage and since they are average-type names I find them empathetic and sympathetic – they are just like everyone else.

Of course, that doesn’t stop other people from having different assumptions. It’s possible that a reader or audience member might think that I thought all Daves were insane skin harvesters or that all Julias enjoyed knitting during stockbroker meetings. They might even assume that since they themselves share a common name that this is in fact a judgement upon them, and respond to it as if they themselves were the focus of the scene. The question, I guess, is which of these opinions is the more important or accurate, and whether we ought to grant the audience member the right to make those assumptions?

Impractical Criticism

I fondly remember the enjoyable pointlessness of GCSE and A Level English Literature in which we were told about the various interpretations there are of characters and themes in Shakespeare, Chaucer, Webster, Austen and many others. We were encouraged to root into those works and dredge up whatever connotations and assumptions we could justify, using the flimsiest or most complex interpretations we could. While we could easily present a case of racism (or whatever) against the author we could equally easily cry post-modern bollockisms and reinterpret the work in the light of the death of a fishing village in Portugal.

Were any of those ideas true? We found evidence, sure, and chose to interpret it along a set of assumptions. Were they what the author intended? We had no way of knowing as the author had not been thoughtful enough to provide a full justification of their work. Even if they had, we were still encouraged to disregard it, interpret their own explanation in the context of the war, the incipient homoeroticism of the age, a letter inn a newspaper that criticised their love of daffodils. So the author’s intent became the least important aspect of their work.

Their Shoes Are The Wrong Size

I personally think that is total bollocks. Sure, you can partly understand a piece of prose in the context that it was written, but ultimately unless you can get into the author’s head (which you can’t) or ask them about it (you probably can’t because they’re usually safely dead before we rip into them), you either like or dislike the piece of art. That’s it. “I like this book because it reminds me of a sheep in a river”. Fine. But “the sheep, stranded in the river represents Nazism stranded at the end of WWII in the faster flowing ideological tide of communism” is just a load of wank.

Incredible Credulity

It gets worse of course. If one abstracts a sentence or two from its natural context and submits it, anonymously (for fear of prejudicing the reading, one can only assume), to some critical body with powers to act upon the content of the phrase – what would we expect to happen? Undated, timeless, free of context and reference – what is the sensible course to take with such a quote? In GCSE history we were taught to analyse the sources of information. Highly prized was the motive in supplying information. Anonymity makes something impossible to check for accuracy (was the phrase written by the named author?), context. Anonymity itself makes the item suspect. Especially if it is possible, or even likely that a remark taken out of context and handed to a prejudiced observer, might seem to imply a criticism or abuse.

Judge. You Must Judge. At Once.

On receipt of such an item what should that reader do? Ignore it? Well, someone has taken the time to draw one’s attention to it. We shall assume the earnestness of that someone – that they are merely trying to be helpful. Without context it would be difficult to judge malice, surely. So this ‘thing’ – with no context, history or evidence of its source, what can we do but assume, assume like banshees shrieking in the wind. It is obvious therefore that the cited phrase is in breach of some agreement, that the unnamed, unreferenced person or organisation that we assume (from the hidden prejudices of our our mind) is in someway ourself, or the organisation that we represent. Therefore the phrase is offensive, and the author (of whom we yet have no proof) must be both blamed and reprimanded.

Our first move must be to censor (admittedly without cause or certainty), to enforce our rules (which we may not have yet read through, to be certain that the quoted offence does indeed transgress those rules, and to thereby attain the moral highground), and to reprimand the individual identified by an anonymous source for an action whose date, context and existence are as yet undetermined.

It doesn’t sound like a great plan does it?

A Polly Oggy

Is it just barely possible that we might have acted inappropriately in our presumption of guilt, of thoughtless credulity at the offered evidence, of ignorance of our own rules, of prejudice in our assumptions about the intentions and meanings of another’s thoughts expressed in ambiguous and non-referential terms. Might we even be considered foolish for such an action, for colluding with the (more likely) malicious intent behind such an action as lifting a phrase out of context and sending it anonymously to one with the power to punish the author (apparently without proof or investigation), for harrassing, bullying and attempting to impinge on the freedom of an individual to express themselves without fear of censure or censorship when they do in fact comply entirely with the rules we failed to check before acting blindly?

Yeah, maybe. Hope that person isn’t really pissed off…

This is a fictional account of something that might have happened somewhen to somebody.

Author and context (americanpomo.wordpress.com)
Ambiguity. Saying One Thing, Meaning A Lot More. (thirtypoemsidontwanttoread.wordpress.com)

Live Storytelling: A Story from MissImp in Action

Posted on 8 May 2013 By Captain Pigheart

Use Your Braaaaaaiiin

I like making stuff up. Sometimes it’s with pen and paper (keys and metal?), sometimes it’s just with an audience. I find both to be much the same. One of the differences is that if I’m on stage I can’t just wander off and make a cup of tea or play Plants vs Zombies for an hour. Well, I could, but I’d have to justify it pretty hard. I like the live stuff – there’s no possibility of editing it unless I think about the story as I go along, and it’s probably quite clear that I don’t think ahead. What does work is setting the scene. Once I’ve done that I can come back to it again and again. As with everything we begin with words and add more. Remembering what has happened so far is important on stage because I can’t flick back through the story so far for names and places (I fail at one of those in this story!), partly because repetition is important for reinforcing a theme and reminding the audience (and me) what is happening.

Word Lies

I’m not a very visually-oriented person; when I imagine I don’t see pictures often, I mainly see the words I’d use to describe it. Some words seem weighted – “dawn” is one, and it was the first word that popped into my head at the start of the monologue below. From that all sorts of nonsense is drawn forth. The style of monologues we often do during MissImp in Action are what we call ‘insert word’ stories. The audience are given magazines and when pointed to during the story they provide us with a few random words or phrases, we have to seamlessly fuse them into the story. I use them to twist and tilt the stories – I like to use those phrases to justify or explain. That inevitably leads to some mental contortions as the plot changes completely. It’s fun.

Sad In The Rain

Hope you enjoy the story:

[youtube http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JtaWrg_VU7o&w=420&h=315]

MissImp in Action is performed on the last Friday of every month at The Glee Club in Nottingham by MissImp, Nottingham’s improv group.

The Desert Crystals – Part Seven: This Hellish Hole

Posted on 9 May 201321 October 2019 By Captain Pigheart

Part 7 – This Hellish Hole

The night reached out and bit the airship out of the world. The moon’s radiance cut off immediately and even the ship lamps seemed to gutter with the shock. They returned hesitantly, and held a weaker luminance than before. Although Rosenhatch Traverstorm trusted the captain to know the dimensions of his vessel the hole had appeared all too small. He and the crew had all cringed as the captain unerringly steered the huge balloon and gondola into the cave. To his credit he had already reversed the velocity engines while they were some way out and they drifted gently into the waiting maw.

The terrific swarm of clawing monsters that bedevilled their flight were vivid silhouettes against the glowing exterior. The pistoliers and riflemen continued to gun them down; their centipede companion braced his forelimbs against the rail and directed the rotating barrels of his enormous battery gun towards their enemies, exploding them into tatters. The tremendous roar of Harvey’s carapace mounted machine gun slowed and reduced to irregular shouting. The cannon whined to a halt and the crew’s individual pistol shots were distinct once again. They too tapered off till the crew stood quiet and still on deck. The creatures had withdrawn as the airship drifted further from the outside world. The cave mouth had shrunk dramatically – as Traverstorm proved to himself, raising his hand outstretched in front of him. He abandoned the view, leaving half of the crew maintaining their vigilance at the rear, to join the rest peering into the absolute blackness ahead.

The dark was peerless. Nothing was visible. The lanterns shrank from the gloom, which was irritating as that only made the darkness more complete. Nonetheless Traverstorm squinted, in the vain hope that some light might be forthcoming from deep within the sky cliff. Harvey’s heavy tread announced his presence, the repeating monster on his back causing him to sway more than usual.

“Perhaps they are afraid of the dark,” he joked, jocularly jabbing Traverstorm with his right mandible.

“Hmm,” murmured his friend,” I do wonder if we ought to be…”

Jasparz, the captain’s aide, joined them at the rail. “Lord Emmaline requests your counsel gentlemen.” The crew took an automatic step or two backwards as Harvey’s repeating cannon lurched over them, even though the crank handle hung untouched to his side.

Lord Emmaline was busy lighting a cigar. The glowing tip added a fraction more light to the darkness.

“Good instincts Lord Emmaline,” commented Traverstorm, accepting one of the captain’s cigars (which he himself had brought aboard), “we seem to be safe from them for now.”

“Unless they’re now massing within, preparing to come upon us from all directions,”

“We’re not likely to see them coming,” Harvey chipped in, “but this place is curious. It has the most unusual emanations.” His final pair of legs, which pointed directly behind him quivered and twitched gently.

“Harvey’s kind are highly sensitive to vibration,” Traverstorm offered in response to Lord Emmaline’s quirked brow, “his sensitivity is remarkable, and in circumstances such as these will doubtless prove of greater value than our poor sight.”

“The walls, the whole substance of this unusual aerial structure is positively vibrant. Why, it feels as if the whole rock is alive.”

“A roost perhaps? A vast eyrie, like the ghastly shite-spattered cliffs of Grimdown – only within the hollows rather than on the cliff itself. This must be the resting and probably breeding space for the species. Where else could they fly to? This may be the only object of its sort in the sky. A rare species – indigent solely to this bizarre honeycombed mountain…” Traverstorm’s eyes glazed over as the evolutionary possibilities of the curious cliff bedazzled him.

Lord Emmaline was not so blinded and whilst the explorer pondered he stuffed his pistol into its holster and directed Jasparz to maintain their present cautious course.

“Fix the lamps at fullest extension lads,” he called out through his clenched cigar.

The crew unfolded the hidden booms, stretching an extra set of lights out as far as they would go. They seemed even dimmer out there, but the combined radiance produced a faint reflection off the sides of the cavern, just barely enough to be sure they were not on an immediate collision course. With the oppressive darkness held at bay Lord Emmaline grew conscious of the dank heat that surrounded them as surely as the dark.

“So now what?” asked Traverstorm.

“While I was briefly torn between remaining here or reversing our route and facing that endless horde once more, I believe we ought to follow our intent – to find young Jacob Bublesnatch and rescue him from this hellish hole.”

“Splendid. Harvey here believes he can use his sensitivity to the queer vibrations to at least partly map out the warren that we’re presently plumbing.”

Indeed, the giant centipede had unrolled a large sheet of paper and was even now deftly manipulating a pair of charcoal pencils to plot out the network of tunnels. Beside the sketch he added florid tables of personal symbolism depicting depth of vibration, intensity and irregularities he could detect.

“We shall shortly come upon a vertical passage which looks to lead further into the heart of this place. Given the lack of denizens thus far I’d speculate that they cluster tightly as far from the outer reaches as possible. There we might well discover our missing night watch mate.”

“Excellent,” declared their captain, “I want two men on top of the main frame in five minutes. Take your safeties and pistols. Contact us as soon as you reach the top,” the crew exchanged worried looks and a series of surreptitious ‘rock-paper-scissors’ were soon underway. Lord Emmaline turned back to Harvey and Traverstorm, “there’s a platform above the bag’s frame. I’ll have them spot for us from up there.” A pair of men bounded up the rigging and vanished into the gloom.

“I do hope they took lights with them,” remarked Traverstorm.

“They’ll be fine. Capable fellows,” Lord Emmaline’s response seemed dreadfully glib when with a scream, one of the two men plummeted past the railing and into the depths, “perhaps a little hasty with the knots though.”

Next Week: Part 8 – Running Blind

The Desert Crystals – Part Six: The Sweet Night Air (captainpigheart.com)
The Desert Crystals – Part Five: The Obsidian Eyrie (captainpigheart.com)
The Desert Crystals: part 4 The Frothing Horror (captainpigheart.com)
The Desert Crystals: part 3 The Edge of Night (captainpigheart.com)
The Desert Crystals: part 2 (captainpigheart.com)
The Desert Crystals: part 1 (captainpigheart.com)

Film Review: Olympus Has Fallen (2013)

Posted on 10 May 2013 By Captain Pigheart

I love the Die Hard films, except for the most recent one because it was terrible, dull and contained none of the traditional wrong place, good man doing what has to be done themes (they actually list those in Die Hard 4, perhaps that’s why they thought they couldn’t do them anymore). Why am I on about Die Hard? Because Olympus Has Fallen is a Die Hard movie. Since we saw the trailer we’ve been calling it Die Hard in the White House. It makes the film even more fun.
Our main dude (Gerard Butler) is an ex-Secret Service presidential bodyguard who becomes ‘ex’ after saving the president (Aaron Eckhardt) but not his wife from an icy death. All very unfortunate, but told concisely and well enough that you begin to give a damn about the characters. Fortunately he now works at the Treasury next door to the White House. This will come in handy.
Terrorists! Koreans! Hurray. American gung ho movies are at their most amusing when picking on their Oriental foes (almost as good as having Brit bad guys). It’s so full of hatred and relish in their ultimate defeat. It’s fun to cheer on the bad guys too. Especially in this as they are vastly more competent, prepared and likeable. We are delighted by the vision of a plane strafing Washington DC with machine gun fire (though it’s oddly bloodless, especailly compared with what comes later), a coach load of tourists pulling guns out and shooting the utterly inept Secret Service guys, cops and anyone else nearby. Their insurgency is swift, slick and increasingly bloody. There are lots of head shots to enjoy.
Thank goodness we have Gerard Butler. He’s able to sneak in the back, shooting folk in the head, during the takeover of the White House. He’s gruff, tough and best mates with the president’s kid. There’s no particular need to dwell on the rest of the story – the bad guys are holding the president hostage in his bunker, nuclear weapons, techno-blinkie-thing of doom etc. The action is fast and fun – as I said before, it gets pretty bloody and there is also the sort of beating up of women that Hollywood films are really keen on at the moment. All that aside the action is well choreographed and grim. Butler gets some amusing quips in, as does the baddie played by a glacial Rick Yune. It plaays out predictably and no doubt receives applause in the US cinema.
Personally I never get tired of seeing the White House blown to pieces, and that’s in this a lot. I’m sure it’s supposed to be gritty realism, but the main message is how incompetent the president’s top staff and everyone in the military except for that Scottish guy who used to be mostly naked and oiled. Oh no, that’s 300. Oh well. What I was most consistently amused by were the accurate and critical comments of American foreign policy and selfish wealthy attitudes. These come up several times and are just laughed off. There are also the usual terrible decisions of their military commanders, and the general wickedness of America’s enemies.
There are a whole series of perplexing judgments, not least the decision to withdraw the Seventh Fleet and pull out of South Korea. The USA’s responsibilities apparently end with preserving the life of their figurehead. That same commander in chief tells his colleagues to give up their super secret codes without a fight and praises them for their strength. Weird. It’s very entertaining bollocks and I chuckled along happily throughout. Watch it, enjoy.

[youtube http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eWnt2exFm1o&w=560&h=315]

Film Review: Wreck-It Ralph (captainpigheart.com)
Film Review: Hansel & Gretel – Witch Hunters (captainpigheart.com)
Film Review: The Nanny (1965) (captainpigheart.com)
Film Review: Welcome To The Punch (2013) (captainpigheart.com)

Register for the MissImp Improv Beginners Course Now!

Posted on 11 May 2013 By Captain Pigheart

Join up today and learn to improvise!

This week, Monday 13th May 2013

Posted on 13 May 2013 By Captain Pigheart

I Tawt I Taw A Busy Cat

My mistake – now I am busy! Last week was filled with the stressful misunderstandings that employment seems intended for. As such – not a lot of fun. Boo and tits to that. Next week looks to be far more full of activity, in addition to whatever diurnal nonsense transpires. I start teaching the next MissImp Improv Beginners course on Monday (with m’pal Parky) which will be ace but does further compress the week’s free time. I shall maintain my schedule!

What with all that marvellousness I’m saddened to say that I am already returning to a largely zero alcohol existence in order to remain sane and healthy. I am disappointed by this, not least because I adore the bottle of Singleton I opened this week. Oh well, at least the Bavaria 0.0% alternative I’ve settled on is only 25p per can…

[youtube http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zhgCDLmMuqI&w=560&h=315]

Something that did sadden me this week was news of Ray Harryhausen’s death. It’s rare that I use the word tragedy, but that’s how his death feels. Although I have not one skill in common with the great man, his films have always inspired me and when I think of monsters, they are his.

♥ This week’s scribbles

Tuesday Shankicide: Shivving with Death Poetry

Back to a few poems of gentle frustration.

Wednesday Lego Blog: Lunchtime Building

Some people relax at work by going outside; I have a travelling Lego case.

Thursday The Desert Crystals – Part Eight: Running Blind

Darkness has swallowed the crew of The Dove’s Eye

Friday Film Review: Iron Man 3 (2013)

Ron’s back! And he has friends as well as splendid new enemies.

Updates on my thrilling life

Writing

I like a good old rant and normally I turn to Shankanalia to achieve that, but the week before last some stuff happened that really crawled up my urethra. What I found pleasing about ranting in this case was how diverse the subject felt. Before I knew it I’d banged out a thousand words on the stuff – hence last Tuesday’s sort-of-essay on Interpretation. I’m concerned that continuing to find space even for the little writing I’m doing at the moment is going to get harder – how do other people keep it up?! (And why is there no interrobang key on my keyboard?)

This week I hope to steer The Desert Crystals more or less back on course. This nasty skywards turn was never part of the story! I guess that’s why people plan ahead. My stories always feel to me much more like the stuff I do on stage with MissImp.

Last week’s scribbles

Tuesday Autofiction: Accusation and Prejudice Context and judgement afflict us all, how should we make decisions?

Wednesday Live Storytelling: A Story from MissImp in Action When I get to monologise on stage it gets weird, quickly.

Thursday The Desert Crystals – Part Seven: This Hellish Hole Darkness has swallowed the crew of The Dove’s Eye.

Friday Film Review: Olympus Has Fallen (2013) It’s Die Hard in the White House!

Lego

As I mentioned last week I’ve been mostly fingering my bricks at lunchtime. Well, that and having a jolly good re-sort over the weekend when I found another suitable box. Categorising your Lego really does bring out the OCD in a person.It’s insanely satisfying to sift through the boxes, removing colours and shapes to whatever insane demands your organising brain screams at you. I go mainly by colour, or utility of colour. I’m very fond of woodland stuff, so greens and browns all get mixed in together. Blacks and greys (all 20 shades) get separated out, as do white and tan. I also segregate little fiddly bits that I think might come in useful, and when I’m building that can become rather full. Primary colours I use least of all and am least fond of so they get heaped up together.

I have much more time for the pastel stuff of Lego Friends, but I don’t have enough to justify a separate box. What shall I do?! Oh, there’s a missing box as well – I keep oddments of minifig accessories, transparent parts and well, things I like in another box. I’m limited to what I can stuff under the sofas, although a worrying amount is currently in models at present. And Jabba’s Palace and a LoTR set remain unopened upstairs…

Improv Comedy

Due to rage last week I missed Fisticuffs – probably for the best as I wasn’t fit for company. We did have Gorilla Burger though which seemed to go well. It’s evidence of my broken mind that I couldn’t tell whether it was going well at the time. I am now better. Excitingly we begin the Improv Beginners course this week. We have a dinky group of 7 so far, and it would be nice to get 8 or 9 but if not, those delightful 7 will have a lot of attention lavished on them. Woop. I’ve taught lots of introductory workshops and endless weekly jams but I’ve never had this particular intensity of time with a group. I’m looking forwards to it.