I adore Christmas. I like the presents, the decorations, the two weeks of hardly seeing anybody… It’s all rather lovely. The first important step is acquiring a tree. Last year we were really late doing this because our kitchen was being refitted and it cut the whole sense of Christmassiness rather short. No such delays this year I’m happy to report
I took off at lunchtime today to find us the perfect wood lump to die in our living room over the next month. Beeston is cheerily packed with folk flogging firs so it only took me twenty minutes of cycling up and down the High Road humming and hawing to make up my mind. We only have a little house so we can’t get a giant beast of a Triffid, but nor do we want something incapable of carrying the weight of lights and tat we intend to drown it in.
Victory Over The Forest
There is a further restriction – it must be possible to strap it onto my bicycle. I cannot be bothered to drag the thing, and frankly it amuses me to tie it to my bike and then cycle home.
It’s a slightly risky prospect and draws both horrified and admiring looks from passersby. I can assure they and you that we did indeed get home safely and intact. She is now happily installed in our living room. It’s beginning to look a lot like Christmas.
Despite my previous fears about not having seen any pied wagtails, my tree-acquiring shenanigans caused me to almost run one of the tiny clockwork creatures over. I’m now seeing them as a precursor of Christmas cheer. It surprises some friends and acquaintances that I’m so enthused about the season. It has nothing whatsoever to do with the myths of Jesus, and far more to do with rather liking the dark wintry weather and having an excuse to batten the hatches and avoid almost all human contact for a fortnight. We will see some family folkses, but Christmas is about personal space, peace and freedom for me these days. And opening presents. Oh, and giving some too.
The whole of last week turned into a blur of activity, or late nights, or drinking – or something that stopped me getting anything done. I’ve finally reclaimed Monday evenings now that the MissImp Level 1 course is over, though I’m rather missing my Parky time. Instead I figured I’d get stuff done… nope.
Film: Free Birds
On Tuesday I “allowed” myself to be dragged to the cinema for Free Birds– a film which should have been awful but instead beat our expectations to a pulp and had us laughing all the way through. Good work potential-disaster-flick. It’s basically a remake of the excellent Chicken Run, but with time travel – and turkeys. I’m pleased to say I now finally know what American Thanksgiving is about. There’s a particularly good run of psychological assessment gags from the President’s daughter and I found the muscular buttock rivalry between the two big tough turkeys to be very entertaining. I am easily pleased.
On The Flipside
Wednesday evening took me and Martin out for David’s birthday – a trip to the Flipsidebrewery for a tour and some drinks. They make truly excellent beer and I can’t believe they’re only three years old! Drinks like Dusty Penny will always beat the other beers at the bar if available. It’s a great shame more pubs don’t stock ’em. The tour was fun and highly informative and very open to a wide range of questions from those about tax and the genetic variance of their proprietary yeast to who gets to test out the beers. We had a good time. Much of the tour reminded me of Dad’s cellar and the endless hours spent filling bottles and stamping the caps on before I was even able to drink the stuff. I’ve previously acquired one of their amazing mini-casks (8.8 pints) of ale and may seek to do so again…
Knickerbocker Glorious
I delight in compering this event – sure, I have to get up as if I were going to work but go to Derby instead and spent from 10-3 in the cold outdoors, but the people are ace and I’m allowed to say pretty much whatever I feel like. It’s very freeing turning up and doing the bits between the musical and spoken word acts. Plus it’s nearly Christmas and there are hundreds of weird things to point at like the zimmer frames on the ice rink and the terrifying Dark Crystal people (it must have a name – the folk in costumes where it looks like they’re about half the height of a human with their real face hidden in the massive pack on the back. These ones had monkey faces and curly leather shoes).
I got to enjoy The Tremeloux’s (Scott Thomas & Carl North), 1/3 of Karl & The Marx Brothers (Matt & Adam), Harriet and highly animated punk-poet Dwane Reads. We had a bit of extra time, so Dwane and I had several bouts of improvised beat poetry – grabbing a word from the audience and word-duking it out. We also told some stories, and I spun a nice tale about a man who used a leprechaun to plug a hole in his boat, then stole the little fellow’s gold. It was another brilliant day in Derby. I talked about super-exciting future activity with Matt and went off with my head in a spin.
Both The Tremeloux’s and Karl and The Marx Brothers have tracks on Furthest From The Sea‘s compilation album:
Jam show – a chance for anyone to get on stage, plus the MissImp annual awards ceremony. The Corner
8 Stoney Street
(off Broad Street)
Nottingham
7.30pm – £4
A sweet layered stack of free live Entertainment, an abundance of Acoustic Music, a generous measure of Performing Arts. Topped off with a liberal sprinkling of family friendly Comedy. I’m compering!
A bunch of us took a day off work so we could go on pilgrimage to the Lego Store at Meadowhall (near Sheffield – the source of ‘Sheffield’ steel and just poking into the North within Yorkshire, the most commonly abused or ignored ordinary British accent). It took no small amount of coordination, lies, confusion and hysterical giggling. No part of the day lacked incident. Even the train journey itself saw the tragic loss of my favourite hat with its collection of badges – someone somewhere is wearing my hat and I shall scalp it from them when we meet. Meadowhall itself is one those vast windowless labyrinths rammed with bumbling manimals. Without a guide I’m certain we would never have found the Lego Store (or without the handy maps we scooped up).
The Sheer Eye Bleeding Joy Of It All
I think I last visited a brick mecca when they still had a shop in Birmingham, but that was before the Lego frenzy took me over and it was merely of great interest rather than burning passion. Actually, the Birmingham store is where my Captain Pigheart hook and eyepatch came from, so I suppose I’ve been wearing my Lego heart on my eye and stump for a while now. The Lego Store in Meadowhall is like an oasis of bright colour and calm in the moronic melee of Meadowhall merriness. Cases filled with crafted objects of beauty, Lego themed everything including the ceiling, staff who are enthused and interested, wall to wall plastic glory!
We acquired many things… some of which will require further discussion – like the construction of our new Lego Palace Cinema set, which we’ll be attacking over Christmas. It’s fantastically satisfying to have a big box of Lego in a bag.
Deciding between the various big modular building sets was agonising. Before getting there I’d done myself a little spreadsheet to make an assessment of brick value (gotta rationalise it all somehow!) It turned out to be pretty useful for several of us. I hadn’t realised just how ‘premium’ the Star Wars stuff in particular is. I really want the Town Hall and Fire Brigade too. And the Pet Shop…
Set
Price
No. Bricks
Price per brick
Bricks per £
Fire brigade
99.99
2231
0.04
22
Town Hall
149.99
2766
0.05
18
Palace Cinema
119.99
2194
0.05
18
Pet Shop
119.99
2032
0.06
17
Grand emporium
132.99
2182
0.06
16
Tower of Orthanc
169.99
2359
0.07
14
Haunted House
149.99
2064
0.07
14
Ewok Village
199.99
1990
0.10
10
Jabba’s Sail Barge
99.99
850
0.12
9
Minifigure Playtime
Marilyn had made much of the make your own minifigure possibilities and I’m happy to say that between us all we spent several hours just rooting about for the coolest faces and accessories. I restrained myself and only built six… Here are the first trio.
Captain Agatha Counterpoint
The captain was cruelly bereaved on her wedding day when their ship came under gas attack from Aermand Feyr and Mister Hexx’s band of roving killers. She wears her wedding dress in memory of her husband. The briefcase she carries contains both his heart and an empty space for his killer’s heart. But fear not, she’s moving on with her life and revenge is just a small part of her overall plan for domination of space.
Ambrosius Pfefferkuchen
Hero of Becklear’s Last Stand, Ambrosius is Agatha Counterpoint’s trusted lieutenant and confidante. He cuts a rather dashing figure wherever he goes.
Cumberwine Shalley
A lifelong victim of ill fortune, carelessness and laziness, Cumberwine was rescued from a veteran’s prison hospital on the fringes of Gutton III. Despite the Captain’s fears, Cumberwine’s exquisite gastronomical senses outweigh his pair of prosthetic limbs and cutlery arm. In his heart he just wants to be hugged.
It is of course, mostly raining and drizzly. Well, I think it is. We didn’t see daylight today having gotten up late with mild hangover and faced away from the window until night fell once more. It has not been the most productive day but I don’t care. We had a little Christmas party in our tiny house last night and it was rather lovely. Boisterous without violence – a lot of alcohol was consumed, as was much cake. Marilyn made Key Lime Pie, Millionaire’s Shortbread and chocolate brownies. They are all wonderful things, plus she made an absurd quantity of the last two and we shall be sugared and fattened all week – hoo hoo!
It was also a chance to celebrate our finally painting our kitchen (it’s taken a mere twelve months to get round to it) and the shelves which have become horizontal after filling a corner for a little while (ahem). It’s particularly nice to have the shelves because we can put the Lego Star Wars Advent Calendar there and we used a shelf for displaying the Christmas Lego diorama I’ve been frantically hashing together this week. I’ll post some pics up later in the week. The Skipper RumI snapped up when it was really cheap in the supermarket proved to be utterly delicious, exactly like drinking thick demerara sugar.
A Wyrd Week Ahead
There’s only one week left to go until Christmas, or at least until I stop working for Christmas, and I’m really quite excited about it. There seems to be going out drinking for most nights this week too. It will be fun, but no doubt a mere foreshadowing of the organ hammering to come.
I’m also going to Colin’s inquest on Wednesday. It’s a formality which has to happen because he died outside England & Wales, so I think it’s mostly just a reading of the report from the procurator fiscal. It should be interesting at the very least, though likely an emotional experience. I hope it will bring a helpful catharsis for the family and another step towards life getting back to normal.
We’re finishing this week by seeing a friend who’s back from New Zealand for a couple of weeks and then getting up the next morning to compere the last Knickerbocker Glorious of the year! Hurray.
I’ve finally accepted that this fantasy series isn’t funny and self-deprecating like the Dresden series. Now that I have, I’m free to properly enjoy them – three books in and I’m invested in the characters, the plots and the wars. This one’s got a number of very good battle chapters. It’s the part of fantasy that sometimes lets books down, but I’m pleased to see strategy, politicking and interesting uses of the Furies themselves. It’s unclear exactly what the Furies are – elemental spirits which can be manipulated by the humans to heal, build, destroy and a hundred other fiendish uses. They are also vulnerable to salt… I’m looking forwards to burrowing further into the series.
I’ve seen this around for ages but never quite considered picking it up and reading it. In the end I’ve reclaimed the omnibus edition I bought for Colin a few years ago. It’s a satisfyingly chunky three-books-in-one and I’m making swift progress hacking through the pages like an orc with a battle axe. I used to love the Space Orks of Warhammer 40,000 and they’re my favourite nameless drones to be cut down in Lord of the Rings so I’m interested to read the story from their perspective. They don’t have any particular voice though and could easily just be a band of humans. I’m not blown away by it, but it’s ticking over nicely. With the broader storyline of rescuing the land and its magic from the humans and escaping servitude just starting to emerge I’m hopeful it will give us a more unique view of the orcs and their culture.
A sweet layered stack of free live Entertainment, an abundance of Acoustic Music, a generous measure of Performing Arts. Topped off with a liberal sprinkling of family friendly Comedy. I’m compering!
This little poem wasn’t intended to have any particular feeling in it, but in retrospect it feels quite sad. I’ve always felt the appeal of the old solipsist philosophies which seem to justify the thought that there’s only me and everything else just pops in and out of existence according to my presence. I rather like the idea of the universe following me around like a shadow.
The calendar, notably, does not act in accordance with my wishes. I’m surprised to find that it’s nearly two months since Colin’s funeral. Today I’m going to his inquest. It’s just a formality since he died outside England and Wales – all the way up in Scotland. As there’s no suspicion of foul play there was no rush for it to happen but it does feel a little odd for it to be so late, and just before Christmas. I don’t really know what we’re going to learn from today – some confirmation of what we already know. Mainly, I think, a degree of finality. I like knowing the ends of stories, and I need detail to make anything real in my mind.
Lost In The Electrical Void
Retrospectively then this poem aligns weirdly with today – Colin and I are already separated by nearly three months – those regular opportunities for shared experience, the darkly shaded area of our familial Venn diagram slowly drift further apart. That’s already a quarter of a year’s worth of time. I don’t have any belief in the afterlife, and its strange to consider someone’s absorption of the world stopping while mine continues. All that’s left of him are those memories left in our minds and the physical ephemera of a life left in his house.
I don’t believe that we will meet again, other than in the trivial notion of our atoms once more rejoining the frothing flood of the material world. Eventually we’ll continue to exist only in the minds of those who knew us both. Occasionally we’ll be merged in a shared remembrance; neural shades of ourselves having a drink in someone else’s head.
That’s not bad, it’s more than we frail creatures can hope for. It’s already amazing that in the constant storm of atomic particles flowing through our bodies into the environment and back again, that this whirlwind of forces can ever lend us the appearance of body and the transient beauty of the mind. It’s neither surprising nor alarming that we will be blown back into the void from which we sprang. It’s just a shame we don’t always hold our forms for longer.
One of the very best things about the Lego Store trip we took a couple of weeks ago was the rumoured pick-a-brick wall of joy and delight. Marilyn had been previously and brought me back one of their large soft-drink style containers of bricks. She did an ace job of packing the stuff in but I was pretty sure it would be possible to cram even more bricks into it. I don’t buy a lot of random bricks – I’m content to acquire most of my Lego through sets, but the mere sight of a wall of Lego left me quite dizzy.
Pick A Brick Joy
I’m assured by this helpful and delightfully insane post that the volume of it is about 1130ml. Some people have made extraordinary efforts to fit bricks in, but I just wanted a decent range of bricks that I don’t have that many of. The technique seems pretty obvious – tiny stuff right at the bottom and fill all the gaps.
I started with tiny red single round studs and worked up through red 2×2 plates, more of the gorgeous lime green 1x2s, slotted gold 1x2s and then other oddments I’m fond of. I never have enough flowers, or the green supports for them so I grabbed a few fistfuls, plus I’ve seen the bigger tropical palm leaves in other sets but I didn’t have any… in they went. I continually shook the bricks into place (I know stacking would maximise the potential but I just couldn’t face it).
Eventually I managed to cram the lid back on (had to ditch a couple of bricks) and had a full tub that didn’t even rattle when shaken. I was very proud. Once shaken out at home it made a satisfying smooshing sound like plastic water and I got to see all the bricks I’d stuffed in but forgotten about!
I love those corrugated white column bricks and the grey hinge pieces will come in handy. For good measure I also got some transparent blue cones, cream corner pieces and a couple of windscreens. It’s a nice assortment of things. Many of them have already come in handy in the Christmas/winter building. I had hoped for a bit more range in-store, but a lot of them were very tradition 3×2 or 2×4 bricks in primary colours which I just don’t use that much.
A Final Gift of Brick Love
We took away one cone of bricks, the Thanksgiving Feast set, twelve custom minifigures and the Palace Cinema set. All in all a pretty good haul. As a bonus, and possibly for the insane grins on our faces, the nice lady in the shop also gave us three free Christmas Pick A Brick boxes which we can take back and fill for free before the end of March. We just need to align our schedules…
Should you find yourself in Derby town centre shopping merrily for Christmas you’ll almost certainly need a break instead of killing people. Join us in the market place for Knickerbocker Glorious, entirely free entertainment between 11 and 3.
A sweet layered stack of free live Entertainment, an abundance of Acoustic Music, a generous measure of Performing Arts. Topped off with a liberal sprinkling of family friendly Comedy. I’m compering!
This Week’s Line Up:
Georgia Fowler
Flames Snakely
Hannah Howe
Dwane Reads
Ben Haynes
Captain Pigheart
Rose Devine
Christmas is surely not the season without getting utterly trashed. To that noble and spiritual end I have filled a cupboard in our garage with booze acquired from the trinity of alcohol cheapness that are Tesco, B and N Bargains and Home Bargains. I aim to drink at least one of each over this Christmas period (I can’t possibly drink them all – I reckon we’ve acquired enough on 4 for a fiver to last me until April). I’ve also got a load of whiskey but I may not reach the stuff once I’m lying on the floor…
Day One: The Strong Stuff
I really love dark beers (and really pale ales), especially stouts. There’s something in the richness that you can really roll around your mouth. Of course, they do tend to be quite strong as well which also suits me. I’ve long held that if it’s less than 5% then it’s basically a soft drink. Clearly I needed something of quality to withstand the cinematic pain of Universal Soldier: The Return and this was the first bottle to leap between my lips…
We spied these little beauties in Tesco a few weeks ago while they were in the 4 bottles for £5 (swiftly changed to 4 for £6 and most interesting lines dropped). It’s a cute little bottle – just 275ml and attractive enough to seize the eye with its red black and gold livery. According to the bottle they brew it but once a year (because it’s so special) in the same manner as it was once brewed for Catherine the Great in 1705.
First impression – “tastes amazing”: I’m eloquent when drinking me. I stand by it though – this is a very strong beer and has a rich textured taste of chocolate. I convinced myself to sip it judgementally rather than indulge in what I really wanted to do which was fill my mouth with that wonderful thick flavour. It also looks great, being completely black and impenetrable to light.
My only real regret is that the bottle is so small. Thank goodness I have more in the garage… If I’m smart I can allow it to continue maturing for up to thirteen years! I very much doubt they will mature for more than a week.
I am thrilled to have finally finished work for the festive season – it’s taken ages and no time at all to get here. I am pleased; I like Christmas, or more specifically I enjoy the prospect of quiet. It hasn’t happened yet…
It’s been a knackering couple of weeks running up towards Christmas. Partly that’s work, which has had a special frenzy about it for a while. Without going into specifics, the organisation is being forcibly separated into public and potentially private sectors along lines drawn by morons. The plans for it are terrifyingly inept and poorly thought out. And that’s just the high level view. When you get down to actual details you find a horrifying blend of ignorance, naivete, arbitrary decisions and absence of information. Some species of catastrophe is inevitable.
Improv and home have been much more fun, but have torn us out of doors most evenings. There have been a pleasing number of evenings spent drinking and chatting with close friends; it is a goodness. We’ve also finally got a new television (thanks Mum & Mike!) so we can start catching up on a month’s recorded TV and Christmas films.
This Week
Not much, other than Christmas really… I have great plans for Lego, reading and drinking the cupboard full of beer I have acquired. We shall see select humans, hug them and send them on their way again. I intend to publish a series of Christmas beer drinking reviews for your entertainment and my inebriation.
♥ Last Week’s Scribbles
Poem: Find Me– a little bleaker than I’d intended, and unintentionally triggering a mental run off.
Gig Report – Knickerbocker Glorious
I was really hoping to get straight into lie ins immediately, but I had to bound out of bed on Saturday at abnormal o’clock to ravage Derby with the Furthest From The Sea gang for Knickerbocker Glorious. Marvellous chaps and musical folks all round. I find my Saturdays spent with Jamie, Dave and Josh especially fun. They’re an excellent crew and we seem to have clicked rather nicely. We’ve had some fascinating gigs this year. Often it’s dealing with complete arseholes and whining randoms that makes it so special. I shall never forget the war of the badgers, the drunks and the hat people.
Last week we had a nice range of people I had not previously met on stage, including the rather lovely swing Christmas singing of Rose Devine.
We had another horrifyingly young and talented young singer, one Georgia Fowler:
And yet more charming guitar and voice skills from Hannah Howe:
[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mq0ZPCzPD4s&w=560&h=315]
To get the balance just right we also had Dwane Reads (a very fun on stage partner) and local comic and poet Flames Snakely. We had some fine banter and story, poetry and song invention on the fly.
I also just noticed that I’m on the Furthest From The Sea Artist page – how lovely, but then that’s the sort of folks they are. Next year is going to be immensely cool and exciting – Derby’s going to be the place for joy.
Film: The Muppet Christmas Carol
On Sunday morning, a time one might reasonably expect to be blissfully unconscious, saw us rise at a Satanic hour to see the Muppets strut their Dickens at Cineworld. Incredibly we also hauled two good friends out to see it as well. I was pre-verbal until after the film but I was able to snort and laugh throughout. It’s a surprisingly resilient film in which I still find new amusements. I very much enjoyed Michael Caine‘s incredible awkwardness when singing – it reminds me of my own pain when trying to loosen up enough to sing myself.
I’d forgotten how much I detest Robin in his needlessly over the top portrayal of Tiny Tim, but also how weird Gonzo/Charles’ proclamation that “Tiny Tim didn’t die” is. It certainly made us laugh… to the perplexity of the kids behind us. Other brilliant moments include the watermelons being stolen at the beginning, ice-skating penguins and the lobsters in the closing scene.
Events and Excitement
Well, Christmas – obviously… but after that:
Wednesday 8th January 2014
Pub Poetry – Open Mic Comic Lit
An evening of poetry karaoke – bring your stories, poems and songs just so long as they’re funny.
The Canalhouse
Canal Street
Nottingham
8.00pm – FREE
Jam show – a chance for anyone to get on stage, and a superb opportunity to get an idea of what Nottingham improv is all about. The Corner
8 Stoney Street
(off Broad Street)
Nottingham
7.30pm – £4
It was late Christmas Eve, when he came down my flue
He said to my babe, “How do you do”
He walked past the tree and he gave her the eye
He said, “baby, I’m gonna switch on y’ lights!”
I was lying fast asleep, I was already pissed
Safe in the knowledge, Santa didn’t exist
But I think someone’s been telling me lies
Now Santa’s eating my baby’s mince pies
His name was Santa in the big red suit
Santa in the big black boots
Coming round here with his bulging sack
We ain’t sayin a thing bout that
He came round here on his big white sleigh
He was trying to steal my baby away
They drank my whisky and they drank my wine
He took all my money it was the end of the line
With that false white beard and the big red nose
My baby she had nothing to lose
He found her switch and watched her lights glow
What he did next … only the Devil knows
His name was Santa in the big red suit
Santa in the big black boots
Coming round here with his bulging sack
…..Oh we ain’t sayin a thang bout that
Oh Santa’s stealin my gaaaaal
Oh Santa’s stealin my gaaaaal
Oh Santa’s stealin my gaaaaal
Oh Santa . . . . . . . . he’s stealin my gal!
She said, Santa “ What you got for my Son”
He said, “Never mind that” and he pulled out a gun
He shot my baby, now she’s gone away
He’s got her body on the back of his sleigh
He chain-sawed her up, and then he stopped for a beer
Then he fed those little pieces, to the hungry Reindeer
He’s a Psycho killer and he’s heading your way
Don’t ask him for a present, cos’ you might rue the day
CHORUS 2
He’s a homicidal killer in a big red suit
He took my baby’s body and a bag full o’ loot
Coming round here with his chain-saw and gun
…. Oh that’s his idea of a night full of fun
Cos Santa slayed my gaaaal
Oh Santa slayed my gaaaal!
Oh Santa slayed my gaaaal
Oh Santa . . . slayed my gal
Happy Christmas ….. !
The Future’s Bright, The Future’s Skiffle
It’s been a while since I’ve shared a stage with this amazing crew. I think we tag teamed briefly during the Furthest From The Sea Festival in June. No – I’m instantly lying, we were both on the bill for Little Wolf Parade‘s performance art show in the middle of Nottingham just a couple of months ago. Anyway – it’s been far too long since we did the Pirate Coves show in the Nottingham Comedy Festival back in 2012 (2011? I have no idea how time works). It is clearly of the highest importance to catch up properly in the New Year and do some cool and foolish stuff together again.
A nice pre-Christmas get together with my Dad and step-Mum for some Thai food (thanks to the amazing Yod Siam restaurant and their swift takeaway skills) has lead to the general destruction of my careful plans for a steady series of beer reviews. We’ve drunk five different beers this evening so I’m just going to have to deal with them all together or lose any hope of keeping up.
Day Two: Diversity Thy Name Is Beer
I may have mentioned that we’d well stocked the garage beer cupboard, so in preparation for parental arrival I randomly selected a group of my favourites and a couple of randoms. Inevitably we drank all of them, but wisely shared them by swapping pints at the third point. It’s a great way of trying a wide range fairly quickly. We had a very nice evening!
This accompanied my delightful chicken balls and green Thai curry. It’s proven an endlessly reliable rich drink and I’m pleased to discover that it also goes well with Thai food. It might not have the kick of the Russian Imperial Stout I was drinking yesterday, but this is a very enjoyable longer drink with strong chocolate flavours (as you’d hope) and is really quite quaffable. I may venture out this evening to find another one.
We found this a while ago on the bargain beer shelves of Beeston. It’s slightly richer (and stronger) than the Double Chocolate Stout and I think is probably the better beer overall. It’s thicker in the taste as it rolls around your mouth. It’s the beer that reminded me just how fond I am of stouts this year: many thanks Messrs Sadler. I’ve been happy to introduce folks to this one for a while now, though I’ve yet to have the pleasure of finding it anywhere on draft.
Deuchars Imperial Pale Ale – 5.2% 500ml, by Caledonian
Y’know those pubs that don’t have anything you really want to drink? Straightforward Deuchars IPA is one of the beers that I’ll take as a fall-back drink in those cases. I was quite excited when my other half stumbled across this Imperial version. In some way it harkens back to the days of empire when we had good strong beer all the time. It’s a much richer, rounded taste that stays in your mouth after swallowing. That’s a good thing in case you were wondering. It’s vastly superior to the vanilla IPA and I’d commend it to you.
Another random acquisition – spotted yesterday for 79p in B&N Bargains. I’ve always drunk Superbock when at Nando’s but had never especially noted the ‘bock’ part of the name. Finding another prompted me to finally look the things up properly… educational! This is a very tasty malty lager, rather dark in colour. It’s quite sweet and very smooth and I’m happily impressed. It also got a boozy nod of approval from both my beer-educated parents. I shall certainly be seeking more of this American bounty. Why can’t all the vile shitty lagers we make in this country taste like this? Are they just too good for the Walkabout scum?
St Peter’s Christmas Ale – 7.0% 500ml, by St Peter’s Brewery
I must confess to not having been thrilled by St Peter’s beers in the past, but I’m always suckered back in by the old-fashioned flask shaped bottles. Plus these were in the 4 for a fiver at Tesco… It’s a strong fruity beer that is definitely the best of their brews I’ve tasted so far. It has less of an alcohol tang than some of their other drinks – I think that’s what I didn’t always enjoy before; I’ve drunk plenty of equally strong beers that don’t have that sharp alcohol spike in them. But really I have nothing bad to say about this Christmas Ale – I may have another on Christmas day itself I enjoyed it so much.
I also had a bottle of Huber Bock while wrapping Christmas presents and watching Pitch Black last night. The sequels are so utterly terrible they almost, almost undermine how fun the original was:
May your bricks be festive and come in nicely wrapped boxes. Here are a few shots of the Christmas scene we put together (rather hastily) in the weeks before Christmas. It’s part wintrified Lone Ranger Colby Shootout, which is one of my very favourite sets ever for the delightful little buildings, colours and details. I’ve basically whitened just the roofs… All the buildings rotate because it’s on a shelf and I just adore the interiors too much. In the middle is the Festive Feast set we nabbed from the Lego Store and the disturbing discovery that Lego Friends heads fit perfectly on the turkey bodies.
Winter Village Toy Shoppe
Also we’ve got our version of the Lego Winter Village Toy Shop. We downloaded the instructions from Brickset and had a crack at it, figuring we probably had most of the bricks (if not all – sigh, the arrogance!) Turns out we didn’t have some critical bricks, notably in the roof building and window design.
It forced a great deal of improvisation, which had rather nice results… I’ll post some pictures up of the inside later, which I’ve tiled quite prettily. Below is how it’s “supposed” to look.
I love Christmas, and last year’s was very lovely indeed. We met our desired aim of spending short but intense periods with friends and family and having plenty of time to ourselves with the Marmalade Badger. It has of course sped by with remarkable speed. That’s most likely because we’ve become nocturnal once more and so are sleeping in until 11 or 12 each day. Oops. Never mind, I wanted to catch up on sleep, get some reading done, watch the odd bits of TV and laze around. Achieved!
I have many, many new books to read which I’m very excited about and I’ve been assembling Lego with a blissed out frenzy for days. New bracelets and cuffs adorn my wrists, I have discovered The Octonauts and enjoyed the faces of people opening presents. I also have a gorgeous double-headed dragon!
Bye Bye 2013
It’s been an odd year, filled with plenty of cool things in our improv world, writing and home. The end of the year was rather sad though, with Colin’s death colouring October to December with darker shades of charcoal. I don’t know how that balances out for an overall assessment of the year. I guess it doesn’t, because that whole ‘great year’ stuff annoys the crap out of me. I still don’t really get why we end the year a month into winter. It would be much neater (for me, and those living at similar latitudes) to end the year with February, then we’d get the nice four seasons in one. Silly calendars. It’s not an especially relevant time of the year for me; I see my birthday in August as being the end and beginning of the year. Luckily that gives me seven months to improve on the last few.
This Week
Well there are many more beers to review. I have a handful of notes, some of the bottles and a dim recollection of what I’ve drunk. I’ve got some stuff to post about Lego too, and a backlog of builds to photograph and share. I have also read some books. A lot of the last week is a blur of sleep. I did manage to write more last week than I have done for ages though, so maybe the old creative brain is repairing itself a bit.
We finally managed to replace our television after it fritzed out and became unwatchable. To my slight suprise the replacement BT Vision box had actually taped stuff from the middle of November for us. We have finally caught up with the rest of SHIELD before it took it’s unnecessary break mid-season to return sometime in 2014 (bastard channels). Thankfully it does seem to be improving at last, with more action, some personal revelations and the edge of conspiracies and plots just starting to show. I have hope once more.
TV: Doctor Who
As with Agents of SHIELD, no TV meant no watching of The Day of The Doctor. We caught up with it just before watching the Christmas special and I was just blown away. I adored John Hurt as the War Doctor. It was a story line I was thrilled to catch up with and it reminded me just how much fun David Tennant was as the Doctor, plus how enjoyable all the other multi-incarnation episodes have been. It’s the plotline I’ve been most intrigued by in the recent series and I’m happy to see it played out so well. The darkness of the story arcs is great – the genocide of two races made for a brilliant pre-Christmas vibe. I’ve just realised I missed the second of the minisodes that lead up to the big event (The Last Day) and so shall immerse myself in Doctor Who later on. Also, very cool to see the Zygons again! And Tom Baker! Granted, I don’t understand how we can see an aged version of a previous incarnation… but what do I know?
Obviously we had to see that before the watching the Christmas Day special. That was a proper tear jerker. I’m always saddened to see a Doctor go, and this time they really tugged at the heart strings by making all the characters suffer, especially the Doctor who’s added a good century or so onto his age. I think Matt Smith may well have become ‘my’ Doctor (it used to be Peter Davison). Still, I’m hopeful for Peter Capaldi who is a marvellous actor, even if I do want the sweary Scottish Doctor now. It’s something of a shame that they didn’t take the bolder but much needed step of switching the Doctor’s gender (and skin colour would be nice). It struck me as a perfect opportunity to do so. Sniff sniff.
Events and Excitement
Wednesday 8th January 2014
Pub Poetry – Open Mic Comic Lit
An evening of poetry karaoke – bring your stories, poems and songs just so long as they’re funny.
The Canalhouse
Canal Street
Nottingham
8.00pm – FREE
Jam show – a chance for anyone to get on stage, and a superb opportunity to get an idea of what Nottingham improv is all about. The Corner
8 Stoney Street
(off Broad Street)
Nottingham
7.30pm – £4
The first film I ever saw on anything larger than the (now) tiny television my parents had was Disney‘s The Jungle Book, at Bircotes swimming pool – or rather in a room fittingly full of monkey bars and ropes. It was great, and began a lifelong love of Disney films (enhanced no end by the astonishing stroke of genius that had Jungle Book characters recurring in Robin Hood). They made many splendid films before a sad decline. It was arrested briefly by the brilliant but apparently loathed The Emperor’s New Groove but it seemed to be just a minor boulder on the mudslide of invention.
Disney’s bouncing back! It may be an effect of putting John Lasseter in charge, recognising his influence on Pixar’s earliest and best films (I try to forget about Cars, which I find to be the worst thing Pixar ever did, to say nothing of its sequel or Disney spin-off). I’m not too fussed about the reason – I’m just pleased they’re recovering (though with Cars 2 and Brave, possibly at Pixar’s expense).
Weirdly that recovery comes with startlingly awful trailers. Tangled for example, I almost didn’t go to see because the trailer made it seem so abysmal. But I dragged myself out, hoping that Disney would have made a new Aladdin. They bettered it, especially with the horse-that-thinks-it’s-a-dog and chameleon partnership. Happily, they’ve done it again with Frozen. The trailer is appalling, making it seem dull and flat like the worst of their straight to DVD films. Olaf (the snowman) looks like the worst thing ever put in a cartoon and I determined to never suffer him on screen. The only thing that looked interesting was the ice and snow, and that’s not really enough to draw an audience in.
The Perfect Setting For Disney
Despite my Olaf-rage we did go to see it, on Christmas Eve with very low expectations. The screening was packed with children and parents taking pictures of their children and a reasonable amount of crying. Oddly it’s the perfect setting for Disney – an equal mix of delight and misery. The trailers were for more dreadful looking Tinkerbell films (game suggestion – swap the term ‘blue pixie dust’ for ‘meth’ while watching the trailer – it makes more sense) and the mind-blindingly awesome-looking The Lego Movie which left me in a state of considerable pre-film excitement.
Before Frozen they have a short – I was really hoping it would be with the horse from Tangled but instead it was a new Mickey Mouse ‘toon. It crushed my hopes for the main event. The cartoon is clever but reminded me how without merit, appeal or interest Mickey Mouse and his cohort are. They drag the black and white slapstick out into colour and 3D, presumably to wow the kiddies. but instead simply perplexed them. We heard a child in front of us ask a parent “Mum, why is this on?” It’s sad to report that the only laughs the cartoon got from the audience were when Pete is repeatedly stabbed, electrocuted and crushed by the sadistic mouse. In fairness that was after Pete abducted Minnie, with his lascivious tongue action and bulging eyes. Then there’s the bit where the lady cow (Clara?) lifts her skirts in alarm but raises her udders instead. It was just peculiar, really really peculiar…
Magic Icicle
Thankfully Frozen vastly exceeded my lowered hopes. The opening is strange, but effective – we see the ice cutters in the mountains hacking out cubes of ice (also introducing the hero Kristoff and his comic reindeer sidekick) which provides gorgeous dawn views of the mountains and a work shanty song about cuttting ice. That shifts to the two young princesses in a charming magical ice romp through their ballroom. An accident – an icy blow to the head leads to the decision to erase all memory of her sister’s (Elsa) magic from Anna’s mind. They are separated and grow apart until… their parents are summarily wiped out in a storm. It feels like a curious development in childrens’ films that parents are so frequently killed off – I’d have thought we could empathise with the main characters without them being bereaved. Oh well. With the parents gone the kingdom will be repoened to the public and secret-snow girl Elsa is to be queen. It all goes wrong very soon afterwards.
The particular highlights of Frozen for me were the beautiful ice and snow effects. It’s clear that the artists have spent months studying the process of freezing and replicate it to wondrous effect. The ice palace that Elsa builds is stunning, and the snow provides opportunities for unexpected and predictable comedy and alarm throughout. There are a number of chases through snow and ice and a very dramatic scene across the frozen harbour in an ice storm. Maybe this is what Disney have really learned from Pixar – the value of making the environment as real as possible. It certainly pays off here, with the creeping deadly ice frosting up the insides of buildings.
A Song Of Snow And Ice
The snow also brings us Olaf, the snowman. I hated him in the trailer, but he’s actually likeable and funny in the film. Oddly self-deprecating and cheerful he provides one of the best and funniest songs ‘In Summer’. It’s about how excited he is about the prospect of summer and doing whatever it is that frozen water does in the sun… There’s an innocence and sarcasm in the other characters’ responses to him that I rather enjoyed. He’s not quite as much fun as the relationship between Kristoff and his reindeer (and their “Reindeers Are Better Than People” song), and there’s no real reason for him to be in the film at all, but he still made me laugh.
Frozen has a full on West End / Broadway musical style to all of the songs which I found arresting. It helps that the leads are proper musical stars who can belt out a tune. I always find counterpoint style songs very affecting and there are several which punched me in the heart strings with hopes for freedom, independence and resisting conformity (“Let It Go”, the song accompanying the creation of Elsa’s palace is a great example). It’s the first soundtrack for a film that I’ve bought in ages, and I made sure I got the deluxe edition which includes unused songs, outtakes and acoustic versions so you can sing along!
Take Me Up The North Mountain
As I said, Frozen exceeded my expectations (possibly because the short lowered them so much) and I laughed and possibly even came close to tears at some points. Two lines in particular had us weeping, largely for the wrong reasons I concede: “I want you to take me up the North Mountain” (repeated twice for emphasis) and “*chuckle* I’ve been impaled”. I thought it was great and I’m looking forwards to enjoying the soundtrack for years.
There was never going to be enough time to build stuff before Christmas, so I’ve been making use of my holiday time instead. There was many Lego received (with gratitude and jaw splitting grins) so for most of the last week I’ve been enjoying ‘morning Lego’. It followed quite naturally on from the Lego Star Wars Advent Calendar, but with greater complexity and schinkling. We tend to get into epic length breakfast when I’m not at work, so I’ll often find myself still in pajamas with a box of Lego and croissants at about half past two. This is a good thing.
Advent Doors
Overall this year’s advent calendar was pretty good, though there’s a depressing focus on the prequels (or “fan films” as we’ve taken to calling them). So I only vaguely recognise most of the mini vehicles we’ve built. Despite that most of them are very neat little builds, with a couple of ridiculous exceptions – the lame seagull ship (at the back) being one of them. There were of course new versions of the Star Destroyer and Slave I, though the latter is just a slightly less interesting version of last year’s.
They’ll soon be stripped down for parts in any case because as usual there is a nice scattering of the dark reds, bright greens, lots of lovely tiles (including a load of 1×1 slopes which I cannot resist), nice multi-studded connector bricks and the unusual dark green bars. A very pleasing bonus of these advent calendars is the number of spare studs and slopes you get right through the month. Sure – this would be a crazy way to buy new Lego but it’s a bit like a Kinder egg, without the disappointment and gender bias.
Make Mine A Miniature Man
As ever the real joy was in the minifigures – 9 new figures in all. That does include yet another battle droid, and a more interestingly coloured fellow on caterpillar tracks (a cool use of the body which had never occurred to me) – I’m sure he’s instantly familiar to a seven year old. A new Clone Trooper, and a Biker Scout, plus an Endor Rebel with a good scowly face made me quite happy. There’s also a young Boba Fett (who will be mined for parts immediately), a weird-noggined Geonosian chap (I think), Christmas Jango Fett and the R5 droid I really wanted. I do like the obsession with supplying weapon racks for the minifigures though, and the Geonosian-style setup is a nice use of parts.
These are the minifigs I was looking for.
If you can pick the set up for a tenner there’s probably enough to keep you happy. I can barely resist the Star Wars calendar, but in retrospect the Lego City was a stronger set with far weirder builds (the astronaut with a wand for example). I was also tempted by the Lego Friends set, for the marvellous colours. Roll on next Christmas..!
So I must return to work tomorrow. This brings a sadness upon me. I haven’t done a huge amount with my fortnight off, but I suppose that was the idea. I’m not sure I’m ready to deal with other people- to talk to them, look at them… It sounds frightful. I’ve had a very restful break – a break not just from work but from all the stuff that happened before Christmas. It’s always hard to tell if we’re genuinely rested – I tend to sleep abominably in the run up to going back to work but with luck I’ll knock myself out on a cat or something. I have seen most of my family for at least a little while and have had much time with just my other half and our adorable cat.
Also, the joy of ‘lounge pants’ has been conferred upon me. They are Superman-styled and fuzzy; it’s like wearing an inside-out cat. They also attract Merly, so I have a furry purry lap. She’s been quite exhausted by the amount of lying down, sitting and stroking she’s received this Christmas – we have had a grand time.
There are no Christian superstitions that matter to me one jot, so it’s always disappointing to be taking down the festive decorations at the beginning of January. Thankfully it is now clear that our winter Lego diorama is a seasonal rather than Christmas setting, so that can stay. I usually keep at least one set of fairy lights through the year too. I like the pretty sparkles.
This Week
It is going to be a rather hectic week, so it’s possible I won’t even notice being back at work! Monday night is an evening of peace (and probably more Boardwalk Empire), but on Tuesday I see my improv for confidence client again (time to check on homework), Wednesday is Pub Poetry Nottingham, Thursday is Gorilla Burger, Friday is Pub Poetry Burton and on Saturday it’s a good friend’s birthday. That’s the way to do a first week back at work!
Somewhere in all of that I hope to squeeze some writing time… I’ve almost (finally) finished the next chapter of The Desert Crystals which has had a shameful absence these past few months. I’ve also photographed my Christmas Lego fun and just need to add some wordses and pictures and make them available to the loving eyes of the internet.
The catching up has continued and we watched all the episodes of The Mentalist that we’d missed in one exciting rush. That’s brought us to the mid-season finale (?) where (*spoilers*) Patrick Jane finally slays Red John. It was all rather satisfying, showing us Jane’s characteristic arrogance, good cheer and shockingly manipulative behaviour in full effect. It seemed a bit odd that the rest of the main cast were sidelined for most of the last two episodes, handcuffed in a car.
I’m also very much hoping they haven’t really killed off Bret Stiles, the charismatic cult leader of Visualise. It’s been a great recurring role for Malcolm McDowell as well as a fun jab at the Scientologists and other loons. I’m not sure where the show has left to go now that Red John is (apparently) dead… but this is only the halfway mark of the season, and I’m pretty sure there’s a season 6 after this too. Yay?
I’ve managed to get halfway through this thriller that was banned in China, but I’ve abandoned it. It’s very rare that I give up on a book but this one just feels as if it has nothing going for it. In principle it should be thrilling – lies and deception in China, government secrets and cover ups – a whole missing month and a change to the entire country’s mindset. But somehow it’s slow and tedious and it’s a genuine effort to get through a page of boring naive characters.
It may just be me, or maybe the translation but it feels leaden and completely lacks tension or intrigue – the things almost every review I can find of it tells me I should expect. I was reluctant to give up, but I needed to read something that would grip me. Maybe I’ll continue it one day.
This was what I picked up to read after giving up on The Fat Years and in terms of tension, writing and interest is its polar opposite. I’m cheerfully plowing through pages of horrible characters, killers in the woods and really really creepy children. It seems like a winner to me. I haven’t seen the film, and though I’ve heard it’s good (the original at any rate) the book is certainly excellent.
Events and Excitement
Wednesday 8th January 2014
Pub Poetry – Open Mic Comic Lit
An evening of poetry karaoke – bring your stories, poems and songs just so long as they’re funny.
The Canalhouse
Canal Street
Nottingham
8.00pm – FREE
Jam show – a chance for anyone to get on stage, and a superb opportunity to get an idea of what Nottingham improv is all about. The Corner
8 Stoney Street
(off Broad Street)
Nottingham
7.30pm – £4
It’s poetry and wordplay time! Join us tonight for beer, spoken word comedy and a limerick competition (legendary prizes) plus an evolving segment of improvising beat poetry (as seen at Knickerbocker Glorious of late!).
Fun, Free and Informal
Bring your own poems, short stories, songs – whatever you have, as long as it involves words and might be funny. If you don’t want to read your own, bring someone else’s. Or just listen, have a drink and a giggle and meet some new folk. This is one of my most favourite of events. We usually get a lovely mix of the strange, comic and wonderful words and wordsmiths. I will be compering/hosting and will probably read a pirate story or maybe some Shankanalia.
There’s no need to book a slot in advance to perform but feel free to contact me with any queries below.
Starts at 8pm with periods of reading, drinking and writing limericks. All jolly good fun. See you there!
We’ll have some poetry books lying around, so should the urge take you…
As I promised a little while ago, I’m finally posting some pictures of my version of Lego’s Winter Village Toy Shop . This is what Lego’s rather lovely set looks like. I didn’t really care about the tree, it was the toy shop itself that caught my eye.
Variation and Variety
The original Lego design calls for a number of specialist parts that I just don’t have – but there was no reason for that to stop me. Once I’d adjusted to the need to improvise I had a lovely time.
The bricks that caused special problems are the neat Technics curved half-beams used to create the main pitched roof. The build opposes two of them producing a neat attractive little roof. How hard could that be duplicate with other bricks…
Well since I didn’t have those I tried a few different variations and ultimately made the possibly terrible decision to prioritise the shape of the front of the roof. The best thing I had is this weird hinged beam brick (from Mindstorms?) that produced a whole series of new engineering challenges that resulted in a dramatically pointed roof. I could more or less match the angles produced but then had to build completely different roofs and a way of fixing it to the rest of the building. Ultimately though I think it looks lovely!
I also had a huge empty space to fill, and continued the pink/green tile choice I’d made inside for the floor and the window overhangs (since I didn’t have enough of the bricks with arches in even three different colours to follow the instructions) and added the three joined wheels. It feels playful and matches the spirit of the toy shop. I also stuck in a nice tile ‘Veni Vidi Vici’ from the Caesar minifigure – it filled the gap and looks nice!
I also didn’t have any of the nice framed windows as intended (I could have dismantled my Colby City Shootout but that would have caused even more problems later on…) so I chose a set of matching blue-tinted windows from various police sets. The narrow windows in the garret have panes from early ’90s train carriage windows.
How It All Turned Out
So yeah – that’s how it worked out. The roof is dramatically braced and I’ve had to reinforce it inside so it doesn’t tear itself apart! I have subsequently thought of dozens of ways to make it more easily.
I tossed in some extra gold to gussy the building up a bit, and added the snowman R2-D2 from 2011’s advent calendar.
I think the inside is much prettier than the Lego original – they used tan and brown for the flooring, but I thought bright colours would be much more fun!
Extra Bobs And Bits To Peek At
Other than the flooring (ground and garret) I’ve stuck quite closely to the interior design, only varying colours and adding some more toys depending on what I did or didn’t have. The aircon/TV/thing above our Abominable Toymaker (one of my favourite minifigs ever) is a placeholder for a white light-brick. The only ones I have are red which would have been creepy to say the least.
I added some textural variations to the snow-laden roofs to give it a snowier feel. Other than that I had to vary the side-window because of parts (again!) and so ended up with a display window including a toy turtle. I decided to rebuild the chimney entirely using my beloved ‘brick’ bricks: I like the jumbled effect.
Finally – the Toy Shop at home in our final festive winter village diorama using slightly adapted The Lone Ranger Lego sets, the Winter Feast set and a bunch of other random things! Naturally it got invaded by the steampunk gang. Oh, and all the buildings are on rotating bases for even more joy!
So, it turns out that going out for 4 of the five working nights of the first week back at work after Christmas is a little tiring. Thank fuck there’s only Saturday to go… that’s a good friend’s birthday film at the cinema followed by drinking and the usual tomfoolery. I’m taking the strange opaque bottle of Chinese grain alcohol I’ve taken from my uncle’s house. God knows what it really is; Marilyn’s translation gave us words, but not meaning. We’ll know on Sunday I suspect.
I have every intention of wearing my cosy slippers and trousers all day on Sunday.
Tuesday – Improv One To One
A return to the one-to-one improv for confidence coaching I’m doing. I’d have to confess that at first I was unsure that I could deliver something that would be genuinely be useful, inspiring and exciting. I’m thrilled to find that with every session that passes I’m even more excited and interested in it. It’s even better to find that my client is finding it delighting and challenging. Outside of a group setting improvisation feels very different, and at the same time its benefits seem even more obvious – gaining confidence and boosting self-esteem works when you completely commit to another person’s ability to create, perform and grow. I’ve never done anything so intimate in teaching and it’s very, very satisfying.
I did of course then cycle home in driving wind and rain. It’s a swift slap with the real world I suppose.
Wednesday – Pub Poetry
Pub Poetry returned to Nottingham. We’re damnably erratic but I can tell you upfront that we’ll be poetising on a Monday in May and in September as well this year. If the gods of calendar are good to us we’ll also dance in December.
We only had a dinky turnout, but as usual that pushes the attendees that bit further (gently, gently) to unexpected readings, laughter and enjoyment. I also picked up some book titles to seek out on Mr Kindle by our regular poet Mr Chris Pearson. I deeply love science fiction and look forwards to indulging in his novels.
This is the second time that we’ve had an Improvised Beat Poetry segment. Last time it was just me and Martin (he of the gorgeous words) but we got another four unsuspecting folks to stand and deliver. Since we had six I divided us into sets of three, acquiring a word of inspiration from the audience and then demanding a poem from each of the team. Wow, but it gets dark quickly! And interesting. With or without any particular metre this seems to plumb the creative depths of the psyche – a combination of the pressure and freedom I suppose, but it produced remarkable results. Improv always brings forth the unexpected, but it’s not always as well married to wit, imagination and colour. I was very impressed with what we produced – Martin, Orla, Martin (at the back), Richard, Lloydie and I. A range of styles, length, content. Oh gosh, just FUN.
Thursday – Gorilla Burger
Gorilla Burger – the first improv (proper) of the year for most of us. I was hosting and whipped up a whirlwind of two minute scenes. I was especially delighted with the turnout – I think there must have been about forty of us in total. We had the pleasure of inducting a chunk of the Furthest From The Sea posse from Derby into the improv mix. Adam, from Karl & The Marx Brothers hit the improv keyboards for the first time ever, pimping scenes into song and making a trio of astonishing Cell Block Tangos pop musically and comedically (thank you Heather & Joe!). It was a great night all round, and I happily took a back seat to compere from my desk (a desk – I got a desk) from where I could easily harangue, direct and end scenes with the sound of Teddy Bear the porcupine eating pumpkins. A kick ass night for one and all.
An especial delight came for me and Marilyn at the end of the night. We’d stayed out a bit late to see off Seth who is sadly moving back to the States (ace to see him, and we were really nice in not giving him a hated Shakespearean scene) so got home at about midnight. I swear, really swear we saw the faintest tongues of the Northern Lights – green infusions drifting across the sky. It was a beautiful clear night, and whether we really saw the faintest traces of the Northern Lights or not, we felt that we saw them. It was awe-inspiring and beautiful.
Friday – Pub Poetry
As you might imagine, the preceding evenings plus going to work during the day had left me a touch drained. Plus I’ve been waking up unnaturally early and suffering weird dreams (damn you amitriptyline, why do you fail me now?) which really doesn’t help do anything except make me feel crazy. Ho hum. Working at home helps a lot – I can sit in my velour Superman lounge pants with a Merly-Boo on my lap all day. I do get more done at home; it’s nice. I used my lunchtime to finally write about the Lego Winter Village Toy Shop we built before Christmas. It was nice.
In the evening I headed back to my Dad’s in Burton to attend the original Pub Poetry – Adrian Thompson’s fine and inspiring event at The Cottage Tavern with their delicious beers. Mmmm, Stout. Before that I’d headed up see my Dad and step-Mum. I was treated to a blood pressure and urine test. Yes, that should seem odd. I believe I’ve been mistaken for my brother… I am not diabetic and internally seem fine, yet my blood pressure is a trifle high. This is unsurprising – frankly, work can have aspects of cuntitude.
I escaped the nightmare of pseudo-medical awkwardness on my uncle’s bike. Not a great plan… I usually ride (a fairly beaten up) mountain bike, but this is a lightweight racer with incredibly thin wheels, drop handlebars with brakes to match and small pedals with straps for your feet. Oh, and the gears – I’ve no idea how they work. Best advice I can offer is to not try out a bicycle set up for someone else in the dark, down a steep hill and roads composed solely of potholes. And in the rain. It was a terrifying ride and I bravely ditched the bike at the station and walked to the pub.
A smallish turn out again (just a quiet week for poetry?) but nice to see some familiar faces. My Dad gave a good reading of Les Barker’s Amnesia which was rather satisfying. I offered up Captain Pigheart’s Triffic Adventure (a small tribute to John Wyndham’s masterpiece The Day of The Triffids), a spot of poetry to offend and horrify (Shanktart) and took the night in a somewhat darker direction at the end with Franklyn de Gashe’s Theatrical Entertainment. As it turns out, the latter is more upsetting than funny. Oh well, now I know. It’s still my favourite event to go to though, and I like being there with my Dad.
This Week
Ah bliss… only a couple of nights out this week! That may (possibly) mean I actually get some online stuff done – exciting.
Over the weekend I caught two amazing short films. As ever I’m about a million years behind the crest of the cool wave, but that means I shall land on the flapping suffocated corpses of all those who ride it well. Both are rather gruesome and gory and if you don’t like that sort of thing I can guarantee you won’t like these films at all. According to the cool people I know, these were both included in the Mayhem Horror Films Festival at the Broadway Cinema last year.
The title is instantly delighting and the rest of the film rises to it well. I love zombie movies and low budget high-gore action. This reminds me very much of Peter Jackson’s awesomely fun and gory first film Bad Taste as well as The Evil Dead. The tale is a simple one, offering the only sensible story behind Jesus’ raising of Lazarus from the dead. It is hugely over the top and the zombie violence is seemingly never-ending. It’s still rare to get a film that’s better than the book it’s based on, but Fist of Jesus nails it (to a cross). The fish-throwing, spine sword (a bit Nightwatch that), screaming and the final line all made this the best thing I watched all Saturday.
Technically this is a music video (admittedly for a banging drum and bass tune) but it far outstrips the track. I’m not sure, but this might be even more disturbing than Fist. Only you can judge. It’s brilliantly filmed, the combination of stop motion and high speed slow motion creates some vivid imagery… I especially love the ending. It’s always struck me as really weird that we encourage kids to play with soldiers – the inevitable result is them killing their toys off and it would be naive to think that in kids’ heads the dead ones just lie down and go to sleep when they’ve been stabbed or peppered with a machine gun. This is exactly how I saw it in my mind when we executed the Decepticons for crimes against humanity.
Very occasionally I get emails that I actually read, though I admit that I do read more emails than I do real paper post. It’s very liberating to shred your post without opening it. The folks at The Collectionary website sent me an email asking if I’d swap sharing some of my Lego Blog posts for their clickable logo as a widget. A reasonable deal, plus I’m a sucker for people being nice to me.
The Collectionary
Generally The Collectionary seems to be another ‘gathering of all things’ website, Lego being only one of the billions of groups and sets available to browse through. Quite a lot of the Lego posts are pictures of (gorgeous gorgeous Lego) eBay items for sale. I think the whole thing started off as a local sell ‘n’ buy page. The Facebook page name certainly looks like a flogging page. However, they also list a range of interesting Lego blogs and postings from across the web. From my point of view, it’s another place to put my beloved Lego stuff and revel in the Lego love and hopefully find some other cool stuff to enjoy. Check it out, if you like.
I hadn’t realised how much I’ve written about Lego… it seems to be quite a bit. Since I got back into Lego sometime last year I’ve found that it’s something I want to do more of. I write about the Lego I buy, the Lego I play with, build with, desire (but may not buy), as well as how Lego fits into my personal self-help mental-health needs and why it calms me.
His bunk had become his refuge. The childhood appeal of his hammock fort and the close darkness had reached out through the years and seized him. For all his mature years and gentlemanly ways, Guldwych Ryme still found himself huddled beneath the thin blanket. It was a poor shield from the world. Not thick enough to block the light that poured through the porthole between the opposing bunk and his own hiding place. Not thick enough to block out the sounds of the airship’s crew screaming as it plummeted from the sky. He supplemented the shadowing sheet by squeezing his eyes shut. Just as a child he had kept out the cold and angry fights between his parents he now closed out the shouting of skymates and the creak of wood and the ratcheting cracks of the wings sweeping up and down.
Captain Flame’s actions had profoundly shocked the rotund academic. In principle he knew that there were pirates and had read accounts of such in the Meridional newspapers. At least one colleague had reported losing valuable cargoes from far off cities and digs to accidents of the air (as the conservative language of the insurance houses had it), as well as the more common accident of nature – the beasts of the Northern Continent. Ryme’s heart raced and he sweated a thin grey dismay that left his clothes and blanket rank with the scent. He feared he might be having a heart attack, save that he had thought he might be having a heart attack for some hours now, since watching Flame put a bullet in the other ship’s captain.
The venture to challenge Rosenhatch Traverstorm and his ego-blushed expedition was feeling rather hasty as he lay curled in the cabin of a pirate ship. Not just hasty, but downright foolish. He could have just as easily booked passage on a larger vessel, though he’d have had to wait a few weeks for departure and still longer to arrive. The haste, he reminded himself, had been necessary, to ensure he could intercept the idiot before he got another exploration team killed. That didn’t feel quite as important as it had done yesterday. But he could have waited – even until Traverstorm had returned in order to denounce him (though whatever lives the maverick academic were to expend would have already been lost by then).
Ryme’s mind happened to be one of those for whom personal responsibility and blame slide smoothly from the self and pool insidiously on others. The nature of Flame’s crew and vessel had been obvious from the start – how many captains threaten a paying passenger before take off? Nonetheless, that had been Ryme’s first encounter with the bold and dangerous captain. But Eslie had been confident of the captain and The Sky Viper’s ability to put Ryme ahead of Traverstorm. Possibly Ryme’s trust in his colleague, Eslie Chem was less well founded that he had thought – had the man known he was booking passage with a band of outlaws and murderers? Surely the need for haste had not necessitated that they associate with such people.
But then, as Guldwych pondered further (accepting any line of reasoning in which he was not directly at fault), the nature of his relationship with Chem became a source of consternation in itself. For several years the man had provided a discreet, helpful and relatively inexpensive service… in regard of whatever need Ryme had had. Precisely how they had met, and become so entwined was lost in a fog of professorial handovers, favours, the subtle puncturing of reputations and loaded gifts. All Ryme could be sure of was that he had grown increasingly to depend on the slight fellow – seemingly omniscient, endlessly capable, always available. Yet Ryme had seen little of Eslie Chem (the only man he knew on the vessel) since they boarded, which was disconcerting in itself – the Viper was a small enough space for eight crew, the captain and two passengers to see more of each other than most people could handle.
Ryme wrestled with his mounting anxiety while outside Eslie Chem leaned against the cabin door, listening to Guldwych’s panting sighs and choked sobs. He drew a deep breath for himself and knocked hard on the wooden doorframe. Within, Ryme jerked upright under his blanket, only its thin cushion preventing another concussion against the upper bunk. He cautiously pulled the blanket down over his face until he resembled an anaemic grub emerging from its pupa. It was that sweating picture of dishevelment that greeted Chem as he poked his head around the door.
“Hello there Professor. How are you?”
Ryme’s desire to blame Chem for his current state fought with his need for a familiar face to talk to.
“Hello Eslie. Well, I don’t feel terribly good, if I’m to be entirely honest about it.”
Chem thought he looked appalling – as if Ryme had been the one shot in the chest. “Oh dear. The captain was concerned, as her passenger, that you might not be feeling well.”
Ryme shuddered violently. “Oh, well that’s kind of her to consider me-”
“Since of course, sickness while on board is a serious matter,” Eslie added with a careful frown, “Any hint of contagion is to be dealt with severely, and swiftly.”
If anything, Ryme contrived to look even paler and more sickly.
“The usual course of events Professor, begins with an inspection by the ship’s doctor. Obviously it’s a mate’s duty to prevent their airmates from falling ill.”
Ryme managed a weak “oh”.
“I’ll look in on you later then.” Chem managed to withhold a sneer as he closed the door behind him.
The portly academic sank back into his bunk, realising that it might not be the refuge he craved for much longer.
Just a few weeks after Christmas I’m already craving peace and quiet again. That’s probably the fault of the week before last which really was a rude re-emergence into the realm of humanity. Last week was a lot quieter, with just two slots of improv in the evenings and an almost empty workplace during the day. Bliss!
It meant I could actually get some writing done, which felt amazing. It’s possible I’ll even be returning to a decent and reliable writing schedule, and that would make me happy. I’ve still got plenty of Lego stuff to write about and the Desert Crystals is bubbling away in my head quite nicely.
Fairly quiet as I said. We had a small Fisticuffs session on Tuesday with just four of us. We messed around, laughed and did three longform pieces. It was the first improv I’d done since before Christmas (I was compering the Gorilla Burger and didn’t play much). There was something deeply reassuring about sinking back into the ritualised warm up and getting really well synchronised again.
First a Henrietta, which is a slight extension of The Henry (which I think Geoff brought back from Birmingham for us) or La Ronde in which a string of players are given locations from a fictional village (in this case ‘Little Shankling’ and a population – 492) aand they play out scenes in order. Martin and I began at the railway station, then me and Lloydie were on a street corner, he and Ben were at the duck pond then Ben and Martin were at the retirement home and then back to me and Martin at the railway station. We do two full loops of that strict structure before allowing characters from all four locations to interact. That extra freedom and self-editing the scenes seems to give it the opportunity to leap forwards and find a satisfying conclusion. They also feel like they’re more naturally attuned to narrative. I like that. This one concluded with ducks consuming a body.
After that we enjoyed a pair of montages, the first inspired by a round of improvised beat poetry. I can’t for the life of me now recall what the suggestions we used were, but they tookk us into some really weird and lovely scenes. Two in particular stood out – the burglar breaking into a flat but is interfered with by all the neighbours, and the deep friendship between the accused and the judge, and then everybody he meets on Death Row. Sweet.
James took the jam this week, bringing in sound effects, vocal foley and music to inspire and add to the scenes. It’s great fun, and potentially enormously disruptive. James kept reminding us (rightly) that it’s exactly the same as having another person in the scene – you have to accept their offers (which should also be receiving offers) and incorporate them into the ongoing scene. Ignoring them feels profoundly wrong.
I’ve been invited to perform with The Same Faces in Leicester on the first of February, so I’m looking forwards to that, although I haven’t met or seen any of them play before!
Faking and Credulity
It wasn’t always going to be such a peaceful week. I was booked in to complete a week of PRINCE2 training with several hours of reading and practice papers each night. In every respect I’m glad that I withdrew; there are numerous demanding tasks to complete at work, plus the wider overview of the havoc being wrought on our organisation over the next year (although, inevitably and pathetically the time scales for that have started to slip and slide already).
Additionally I’d made the mistake of getting into the course pre-reading which was making me angry. If you don’t know, PRINCE2 is the Cabinet Office branded project management method. Like all project management techniques it involves a combination of the blindingly obvious wrapped up in a dozen layers of reporting and bureaucracy. I imagine it’s generally no better or worse than the dozens of competitors. The pre-reading though , is mind-numbing and filled with circular reasoning (it’s good because it’s self-proven) and tonnes of classic logical ‘no true Scotsman’ fallacies (essentially, if a PRINCE2 project ever fails it’s because it wasn’t PRINCE2 enough).
It also quickly became clear how it is that public protests are simply ignored in government planning – the ‘dis-benefits’ of public whining is easily balanced by stating the (limited, government-oriented) benefits. Terrifying. Finding out that the course is also that classic example of Gove education – being talked at for a week and being instructed solely in how to pass a multiple-answer exam – was the nail in its own coffin for me.
I know I don’t learn well like that; my favoured learning experiences are those of learning by doing, experimentation and discussion. Learning and teaching improv has lead me to the conclusion (for now) that the only way to assess learning is by getting the student to teach someone else. It also didn’t help to realise that the massive projects we’ve been trying to implement, or been involved in implementing must also have been PRINCE2 projects – and they have been fucking terribly thought out and implemented. As ever the success of a project depends on the people involved, not just the application of a structure.
Events and Excitement
Friday 31st January
MissImp in Action – live improv comedy show
Thrilling all-action end of the month show sporting the best of MissImp inventing scenes and playing games.
The Glee Club
The Waterfront
Canal Street
Nottingham
8.30pm (doors open at 8pm) – £4.50 in advance/£6 on the door (£3 students/MissImp)
We made a terrible mistake in not turning off the television after the BBC3 double-bill of American Dad.
It was followed by the most dire of comedy variety programmes – Live At The Electric. Apparently Russell Kane is a stand-up comic. He isn’t very good. Despite the drunken baying of the television audience he comes across as an utterly charmless wanker. His whole opening routine was a lengthy and unfunny spiel about how women are his preferred audience because even if they don’t like him to begin with, they will by the end. By contrast, men who don’t appreciate him never will, because he might be gay (or looks like Nick Grimshaw; I doubt I could tell them apart myself). He has a curious reliance on his ‘metrosexual’ appearance and seems to enjoy implying that he might be gay – as if this is some novel formula for comedy. It’s not.
Kane’s programme, and particularly the awful skits he’s in are laced with unpleasant homophobic gags that seem only to fit with his dead eyes and perpetual sneer. It was very hard to not want him to die, and at that time of night I don’t have much will power left. The supporting acts that he comperes through the show came across terribly, possibly as a result of his dreadful compering. There was series of awkward mock-back-stage sets, a painful character act Chastity Butterworth and some forgettable stand-up. The only act I rather liked was the Twins Macabre, a well edited piece about a creepy pair of goth serial killers. I’d watch more of that, and joyously you can – on YouTube.
Incredibly we left the TV on after the suckfest above, possibly because it had destroyed our will to live. I’d seen the adverts on the beeb for Uncle (there are a stunning number of ads on the BBC these days) and was fairly amused by the ramshackle uncle bribing his nephew to abandon a football game. It seemed unlikely I would ever watch the programme though, and I suppose we should thank Live At The Electric for making everything else in the world bright and good.
I was very taken with Uncle. It begins with the eponymous fellow preparing to commit suicide before being asked to pick up his nephew from school by his sister. It’s a strightforward setup, and the rest of the episode follows this simple favour. I was very pleasantly surprised to find myself laughing and smiling along with it. I like the lead, Andy with his automatic lying, deep depression, and habit of speaking to Errol (his nephew) as if he were an adult. He’s a sad, troubled man played affectionately by that rarest of things on television – a stand up comedian who can act. All I know of Nick Helm is that he dragged one of my friends, Carl Jones (also a stand-up) onto stage during a show at The Fringe and spooned with him on a mattress for the rest of the routine. I found him very likeable and was touched by his performance.
The nephew, Errol is a classically peculiar teen – awkward and a loner. He is also played very well, and the relationship between them is tested and developed through a string of rather odd encounters with people in each of their lives.
I enjoyed it,. I really hope they have a music video in each episode too. I shall set the box to record it; I wouldn’t want to accidentally watch Live At The Electric again.
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Jam show – a chance for anyone to get on stage, plus the MissImp annual awards ceremony.
Finding Meaning In Everything
On Sunday morning, a time one might reasonably expect to be blissfully unconscious, saw us rise at a Satanic hour to see the Muppets strut their Dickens at 
I’ve managed to get halfway through this thriller that was banned in China, but I’ve abandoned it. It’s very rare that I give up on a book but this one just feels as if it has nothing going for it. In principle it should be thrilling – lies and deception in China, government secrets and cover ups – a whole missing month and a change to the entire country’s mindset. But somehow it’s slow and tedious and it’s a genuine effort to get through a page of boring naive characters.
This was what I picked up to read after giving up on The Fat Years and in terms of tension, writing and interest is its polar opposite. I’m cheerfully plowing through pages of horrible characters, killers in the woods and really really creepy children. It seems like a winner to me. I haven’t seen the film, and though I’ve heard it’s good (the original at any rate) the book is certainly excellent.
I also had a huge empty space to fill, and continued the pink/green tile choice I’d made inside for the floor and the window overhangs (since I didn’t have enough of the bricks with arches in even three different colours to follow the instructions) and added the three joined wheels. It feels playful and matches the spirit of the toy shop. I also stuck in a nice tile ‘Veni Vidi Vici’ from the Caesar minifigure – it filled the gap and looks nice!
The Criterion
