Irony Boy sent me the link to this video, which goes to show how having too much time on your hands ain't necessarily a bad thing. I particularly like Lego Chewie's entrance.
Tuesday, July 24, 2007
The parable of the bridge
In the depths of the valley, the tribe of little people lived under the bridge.
It was comfortable under there – nice and dry, with water nearby. Everybody pretty much agreed life under the bridge was almost perfect. In fact, no one could imagine what life was like away from the safety and the shelter of the bridge.
One or two members of the tribe had wandered out. The ones who came back said it was horrible out there. They’d felt lost and alone, ended up dirty and worn out, and so had come back to the safety of life under the bridge. Now they could wash themselves clean, rest, and recover from their ordeals in the loving company of their tribe family.
Some little people who wandered away never came back. The elders of the tribe muttered darkly that the wanderers had died, or gotten so lost they could never return. They issued dire warnings to anyone who even thought about leaving the safety of the bridge. “Be careful!” they said. “The bridge is what we know. The bridge is the only place where you can be safe. The bridge is the perfect place for us to live.”
Generations passed and, with each new generation, the younger members of the tribe would grow accustomed to the warnings of the elders, and start to wander out from under the bridge in curiosity. The elders’ warnings grew direr. They spoke of hideous monsters waiting to devour any who ventured away from the safety of the bridge. They spoke of torments and ravenings, of the madness and misery that awaited any who ventured away from the safety of the bridge.
The tribe of little people grew afraid to even think of leaving the safety of the bridge. If any thought such an unthinkable thing, they were loath to admit to it, and the very few who admitted to it were hushed by their family and clan members. Soon it was taboo to even admit there was a world other than under the bridge.
But there was one young member of the tribe, called Sprog. He wasn’t the tallest warrior, or fastest runner, or the cleverest artisan. His teachers used to call him the daydreamer, because he always seemed to be thinking about something he wasn’t supposed to be thinking about.
One day Sprog went to see the elders. Standing in their Circle he addressed his supplication to Vinder, the wisest and most wizened of the tribal elders. “Excuse me, elder,” said Sprog politely. It took Vinder a while to realise Sprog was talking to him because he was profoundly deaf. Eventually he said ‘Eh? What d’you want, lad?”
“I want to ask a question,” said Sprog.
“Go ahead,” said Vinder.
“We live under this bridge,” began Sprog. “And you elders tell us this is all we know, and this is the place where we’re safe and so we must never leave it…”
“Yes,” said Vinder.
“But, I’ve been thinking. When we build a bridge across one of the little streams, we walk across it. So, if this is a bridge like our bridges, it wasn’t built for living under, it was built for walking across.”
The elders were silent for a very long time.
It was comfortable under there – nice and dry, with water nearby. Everybody pretty much agreed life under the bridge was almost perfect. In fact, no one could imagine what life was like away from the safety and the shelter of the bridge.
One or two members of the tribe had wandered out. The ones who came back said it was horrible out there. They’d felt lost and alone, ended up dirty and worn out, and so had come back to the safety of life under the bridge. Now they could wash themselves clean, rest, and recover from their ordeals in the loving company of their tribe family.
Some little people who wandered away never came back. The elders of the tribe muttered darkly that the wanderers had died, or gotten so lost they could never return. They issued dire warnings to anyone who even thought about leaving the safety of the bridge. “Be careful!” they said. “The bridge is what we know. The bridge is the only place where you can be safe. The bridge is the perfect place for us to live.”
Generations passed and, with each new generation, the younger members of the tribe would grow accustomed to the warnings of the elders, and start to wander out from under the bridge in curiosity. The elders’ warnings grew direr. They spoke of hideous monsters waiting to devour any who ventured away from the safety of the bridge. They spoke of torments and ravenings, of the madness and misery that awaited any who ventured away from the safety of the bridge.
The tribe of little people grew afraid to even think of leaving the safety of the bridge. If any thought such an unthinkable thing, they were loath to admit to it, and the very few who admitted to it were hushed by their family and clan members. Soon it was taboo to even admit there was a world other than under the bridge.
But there was one young member of the tribe, called Sprog. He wasn’t the tallest warrior, or fastest runner, or the cleverest artisan. His teachers used to call him the daydreamer, because he always seemed to be thinking about something he wasn’t supposed to be thinking about.
One day Sprog went to see the elders. Standing in their Circle he addressed his supplication to Vinder, the wisest and most wizened of the tribal elders. “Excuse me, elder,” said Sprog politely. It took Vinder a while to realise Sprog was talking to him because he was profoundly deaf. Eventually he said ‘Eh? What d’you want, lad?”
“I want to ask a question,” said Sprog.
“Go ahead,” said Vinder.
“We live under this bridge,” began Sprog. “And you elders tell us this is all we know, and this is the place where we’re safe and so we must never leave it…”
“Yes,” said Vinder.
“But, I’ve been thinking. When we build a bridge across one of the little streams, we walk across it. So, if this is a bridge like our bridges, it wasn’t built for living under, it was built for walking across.”
The elders were silent for a very long time.
Monday, July 23, 2007
Just as good the second time around
Went to see Transformers again tonight - on another free ticket. I was expecting 'second screening syndrome' where you see the continuity gaps, spot wider plot holes etc. I'm happy to say the film went even more quickly and I was carried along with it. This is also one of the few films where the score would probably be worth buying - I really noticed the heroic music pumping at key points in the film.
The only problem now is my car doesn't seem as cool any more. Cathy chided me the other day when I said that, pointing out my alloyed up Golf is still a nice car. But it's not a robot. Sigh.
If you haven't hocked your first born yet to buy a ticket, you'll have to wait til the general release on Friday. Still, gives you a couple of days to get some bids on the kids on eBay.
The only problem now is my car doesn't seem as cool any more. Cathy chided me the other day when I said that, pointing out my alloyed up Golf is still a nice car. But it's not a robot. Sigh.
If you haven't hocked your first born yet to buy a ticket, you'll have to wait til the general release on Friday. Still, gives you a couple of days to get some bids on the kids on eBay.
Friday, July 20, 2007
Transformers
Wow!
I kept nudging Cathy throughout with comments like "It's Bumblebee, it's Bumblebee!" or "It's Optimus Prime!" And she kept telling me to shut up and stop being such a saddo. At the end I turned to Cathy and said: "I think this just might be my new favourite film!" She said: "Seriously?" Perhaps it's more of a boy thing.
In case you loved Transformers as a kid and are afraid the big screen version is going to stuff things up, don't worry. Everything you could want is in there, including in-jokes ("They must be Japanese!"), amazing special effects, humour, decent acting (despite slightly corny scripting), heroism, explosions, screeching tyres, and good triumphing over evil.
Or to put it another way: it's full of cool cars and then they become robots. What more could you want?
Plus they've left the ending open for a sequel. On the basis of the first one, I'm already excited at the prospect of seeing more.
Go and see it. Seriously - get thee to a cinema!
Jongudmund's rating: 10/10
I kept nudging Cathy throughout with comments like "It's Bumblebee, it's Bumblebee!" or "It's Optimus Prime!" And she kept telling me to shut up and stop being such a saddo. At the end I turned to Cathy and said: "I think this just might be my new favourite film!" She said: "Seriously?" Perhaps it's more of a boy thing.
In case you loved Transformers as a kid and are afraid the big screen version is going to stuff things up, don't worry. Everything you could want is in there, including in-jokes ("They must be Japanese!"), amazing special effects, humour, decent acting (despite slightly corny scripting), heroism, explosions, screeching tyres, and good triumphing over evil.
Or to put it another way: it's full of cool cars and then they become robots. What more could you want?
Plus they've left the ending open for a sequel. On the basis of the first one, I'm already excited at the prospect of seeing more.
Go and see it. Seriously - get thee to a cinema!
Jongudmund's rating: 10/10
Tuesday, July 17, 2007
Shrek 3
Saw this a while ago, but haven't got round to reviewing it til now.
Well, what can you say about a third instalment of a film series that won't be said anywhere else? As a film it's OK. Not a patch on the original but with a few good laughs And when I say few I mean few. One sequence, where a fearful dad-to-be Shrek feverishly dreams he's being assaulted by zillions of ogre baby shreks is funny for the first few seconds, then it gets boring.
The problem with Shrek 3 is that you know the characters and so this feels a bit like one of those circular letters which arrive in Christmas cards from people you haven't heard from since last Christmas. You can read them and find out what's happening in their lives, but realistically, if you don't read them your life won't be any poorer.
Jongudmund's rating: 6/10
Well, what can you say about a third instalment of a film series that won't be said anywhere else? As a film it's OK. Not a patch on the original but with a few good laughs And when I say few I mean few. One sequence, where a fearful dad-to-be Shrek feverishly dreams he's being assaulted by zillions of ogre baby shreks is funny for the first few seconds, then it gets boring.
The problem with Shrek 3 is that you know the characters and so this feels a bit like one of those circular letters which arrive in Christmas cards from people you haven't heard from since last Christmas. You can read them and find out what's happening in their lives, but realistically, if you don't read them your life won't be any poorer.
Jongudmund's rating: 6/10
Saturday, July 14, 2007
The season starts early
I was one of the 3,000+ who turned up at Shrewsbury's new stadium to watch Town take on the A-Line Allstars. Because it was their first match at the new ground they couldn't fill it to capacity anyway for safety reasons, but they were hoping for 6,000. Although the first thing you learn in economics a-level is that price determines demand. £12 to see a collection of fading pros and Macclesfield Town trainees is perhaps a bit steep.
Still we could marvel in Gianfranco Zola's silky skills as he deftly swept the ball around League 2 defenders. It looked as if he'd somehow magnetised it to follow his foot obediently, and he could easily be the best player playing at our level if we could somehow tempt him out of retirement. Besides Zola, who is arguably the most skillfull footballer ever to grace Gay Meadow, Graeme Le Saux, Gustavo Poyet, Gianluca Festa and 48-year old Mickey Thomas added a bit of fun and star quality to the occasion. Ex-town legends Mickey Brown, Steve Cross and Tony Kelly also made it onto the pitch.
For those interested in results, Town won 4-0, with two of the goals scored by triallists my die-hard brother had never heard of. But who knows, they just might become household names in Shrewsbury by this time next year.
You can see photos in my Facebook photo album.
Still we could marvel in Gianfranco Zola's silky skills as he deftly swept the ball around League 2 defenders. It looked as if he'd somehow magnetised it to follow his foot obediently, and he could easily be the best player playing at our level if we could somehow tempt him out of retirement. Besides Zola, who is arguably the most skillfull footballer ever to grace Gay Meadow, Graeme Le Saux, Gustavo Poyet, Gianluca Festa and 48-year old Mickey Thomas added a bit of fun and star quality to the occasion. Ex-town legends Mickey Brown, Steve Cross and Tony Kelly also made it onto the pitch.
For those interested in results, Town won 4-0, with two of the goals scored by triallists my die-hard brother had never heard of. But who knows, they just might become household names in Shrewsbury by this time next year.
You can see photos in my Facebook photo album.
Monday, July 09, 2007
Hold on... I've heard that before
Driving into work this morning I heard the new Razorlight single called 'Hold On'. I'm pretty sure I could knock together a 'concept CD' of songs called 'Hold On'. There's a track on Good Charlotte's first album called it, and Jet did an amazing song on the Spiderman 2 soundtrack (for the bit where Spidey doubts himself and has to wrestle with his inner demons). Back in the day I had an Apollo 440 single with a b-side called Hold On (2 What U Got). By way of contrast, there was even a Christian song which leant it's name to a Vineyard collection.
So, that's 5 before I even start looking. Anyone know any more off the top of their heads?
So, that's 5 before I even start looking. Anyone know any more off the top of their heads?
Friday, July 06, 2007
Writers and editors
The next issue of the magazine is pretty much done from a writing point of view. Now it’s in for editing – a hugely important part of the process. I used to hate having copy I’d written neatened up by an editor, but over time you kind of get immune to it. And recently I’ve been reflecting on how it’s very useful to have someone cast a critical eye over what you write and make sure it’s tidied up.
It’s easy to spot the moment when a writer, or other creative, stops listening to the editor and begins to believe his or her own hype. Here are a few examples…
Example #1 JK Rowling
I risk the ire of Clare for daring to comment on the great JK, but truth to tell her books were better when they were edited to a readable length. But after ‘the Prisoner of Azkaban’, Rowling went stratospheric and no editor was going to tell her ‘look, love, you’ve got to cut this down a bit.’ Cue ‘Goblet of Fire’, which seemed to go on and on and had one of the most ridiculously unlikely twists at the end involving a character who was actually someone else in disguise.
Then the films came out and Harry Potter was suddenly accessible to the majority non-reading population. And JK Rowling decided at this point that she could write epics.
But she can’t.
At least, not if ‘Order of the Phoenix’ is anything to go by. A good editor would have cut about a third to a half of the 500+ pages, got rid of the side stories which added nothing to the basic tale, and produced a good book as a result. Instead all the lickle kiddies had to wade through pages of turgid filler to get to the good stuff. It was so bad I haven’t read book 6 and won’t be reading book 7 either.
Example #2 Oasis
Oasis’ first album remains one of the pinnacles of British rock. It’s got everything – soaring, powerful guitar riffs, Liam’s rock and roll snarl, clever lyrics, all wrapped up in a bundle of decent songs.
But then the Britpop bubble expanded, with Oasis at the centre. I didn’t personally like their second album as much, although it did contain the still-hummable Wonderwall, and one or two other classics. But they were more into slagging off their rivals, saying offensive things in NME, partying and sacking drummers by this point. With nobody around to rein them in, because they were Oasis and weren’t going to be told what to do by anyone, they were able to set their artistic sides free. And what have they done since? Absolutely naff all.
Example #3 George Lucas
Let’s not get into the ‘how did the prequels go so wrong’ discussion here. But let’s ask the question, why does George Lucas feel the need to go back and rework his original films? Not only did he stick a load of stupid animals into the Mos Eisley scenes for cheap laughs in Star Wars, he completely cheesed up the end of Jedi, and hashed up Sy Snootles’ best musical number ever with an annoying new character called Yuzzum.
Then to add insult to injury, in the special edition DVD set he replaced Jeremy Bulloch’s voice in Empire Strikes Back with the antipodean twang of the guy who played Jango Fett in Attack of the Clones.
But of course, Lucas is never one to miss a marketing trick. So, just when you thought you’d bought your last set of Star Wars DVDs, he releases a new set which contain the original versions as well as the ‘remastered’ (insert your own suitable description here) versions. Then he has the cheek to say "I don’t know why anyone would want to watch the original versions…" Because they’re better, George, that’s why. Now why don’t you go and get funky with the original cut of Howard the Duck or Willow.
Example #4 Peter Jackson
You take Lord of the Rings’, one of the most loved books ever written in the English Language. You manage to turn it into three films, which amazingly please the die-hard fans of the book and your average cinema-goer. Now the world is your oyster. You could do pretty much anything you want to.
You go and re-make King Kong…
It’s easy to spot the moment when a writer, or other creative, stops listening to the editor and begins to believe his or her own hype. Here are a few examples…
Example #1 JK Rowling
I risk the ire of Clare for daring to comment on the great JK, but truth to tell her books were better when they were edited to a readable length. But after ‘the Prisoner of Azkaban’, Rowling went stratospheric and no editor was going to tell her ‘look, love, you’ve got to cut this down a bit.’ Cue ‘Goblet of Fire’, which seemed to go on and on and had one of the most ridiculously unlikely twists at the end involving a character who was actually someone else in disguise.
Then the films came out and Harry Potter was suddenly accessible to the majority non-reading population. And JK Rowling decided at this point that she could write epics.
But she can’t.
At least, not if ‘Order of the Phoenix’ is anything to go by. A good editor would have cut about a third to a half of the 500+ pages, got rid of the side stories which added nothing to the basic tale, and produced a good book as a result. Instead all the lickle kiddies had to wade through pages of turgid filler to get to the good stuff. It was so bad I haven’t read book 6 and won’t be reading book 7 either.
Example #2 Oasis
Oasis’ first album remains one of the pinnacles of British rock. It’s got everything – soaring, powerful guitar riffs, Liam’s rock and roll snarl, clever lyrics, all wrapped up in a bundle of decent songs.
But then the Britpop bubble expanded, with Oasis at the centre. I didn’t personally like their second album as much, although it did contain the still-hummable Wonderwall, and one or two other classics. But they were more into slagging off their rivals, saying offensive things in NME, partying and sacking drummers by this point. With nobody around to rein them in, because they were Oasis and weren’t going to be told what to do by anyone, they were able to set their artistic sides free. And what have they done since? Absolutely naff all.
Example #3 George Lucas
Let’s not get into the ‘how did the prequels go so wrong’ discussion here. But let’s ask the question, why does George Lucas feel the need to go back and rework his original films? Not only did he stick a load of stupid animals into the Mos Eisley scenes for cheap laughs in Star Wars, he completely cheesed up the end of Jedi, and hashed up Sy Snootles’ best musical number ever with an annoying new character called Yuzzum.
Then to add insult to injury, in the special edition DVD set he replaced Jeremy Bulloch’s voice in Empire Strikes Back with the antipodean twang of the guy who played Jango Fett in Attack of the Clones.
But of course, Lucas is never one to miss a marketing trick. So, just when you thought you’d bought your last set of Star Wars DVDs, he releases a new set which contain the original versions as well as the ‘remastered’ (insert your own suitable description here) versions. Then he has the cheek to say "I don’t know why anyone would want to watch the original versions…" Because they’re better, George, that’s why. Now why don’t you go and get funky with the original cut of Howard the Duck or Willow.
Example #4 Peter Jackson
You take Lord of the Rings’, one of the most loved books ever written in the English Language. You manage to turn it into three films, which amazingly please the die-hard fans of the book and your average cinema-goer. Now the world is your oyster. You could do pretty much anything you want to.
You go and re-make King Kong…
Wednesday, July 04, 2007
Sunday, July 01, 2007
Neighbourinos
Recently Cath and I were sitting outside our friends' new house waiting for them to come back. And while we did so we were flicking through a pile of hymn books, like you do. In this case, it was to try and find nice hymns for a wedding.
One of the books - 'World Praise' of the Mission Praise ilk - had an international section which meant a number of very popular songs and hymns were published in English, Spanish and German. Being a cultured internationalist, and uniquely gifted singer to boot, I was soon regaling my wife with well-known songs in German. True, I have no idea how to pronounce German words, but we had the car windows open and I couldn't pass up the opportunity to make a good impression on our friends' new neighbours by singing hymns in German very loudly. Who knows there may have been a German speaker within earshot who heard my singing and fell to their knees in prayer and supplication begging God to make it stop.
And, just so readers of this blog don't feel left out, here's one of the songs. See if you can guess what it is...
Der Himmel zeugt
von der Herrlichkeit des Herrn der Herr'n.
Wer ist ihm gleich,
dem einzig Auferstandenen?
In Ewigkeit bist du
das Lamm auf Gottes Thron!
Ich beuge meine Knie
und bete an den Sohn.
One of the books - 'World Praise' of the Mission Praise ilk - had an international section which meant a number of very popular songs and hymns were published in English, Spanish and German. Being a cultured internationalist, and uniquely gifted singer to boot, I was soon regaling my wife with well-known songs in German. True, I have no idea how to pronounce German words, but we had the car windows open and I couldn't pass up the opportunity to make a good impression on our friends' new neighbours by singing hymns in German very loudly. Who knows there may have been a German speaker within earshot who heard my singing and fell to their knees in prayer and supplication begging God to make it stop.
And, just so readers of this blog don't feel left out, here's one of the songs. See if you can guess what it is...
Der Himmel zeugt
von der Herrlichkeit des Herrn der Herr'n.
Wer ist ihm gleich,
dem einzig Auferstandenen?
In Ewigkeit bist du
das Lamm auf Gottes Thron!
Ich beuge meine Knie
und bete an den Sohn.
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