Twuh-tuttin, Sir Terence, Norwegian Wood and Good Things That Are Hiding in 2009

On this, the last day of the year (if you follow the calendar of Gregor), I have very little energy to disseminate herein.

I have spent the post-primary-gifting-period slowly working my way through a batch of stand-up, books and music from before I was born.

I have been enjoying the works of TV's Richard Herring, namely 'That Was Then, This Is Now', and waiting for my other Richard Herring based purchases to arrive.  I have been informed this will take several weeks however, due to glue-based mishaps in the production of DVDs.  This is not a huge problem however, as when it is necessary I can muster the patience of a thing which is significantly more patient than I am when I am my usual, unaltered state of patience.

**I have backtracked up this blog because I have just received the post, which included Richard Herring's 'Bye Bye Balham', Stewart Lee's '90's Comedian', 'The Picture of Dorian Gray' (Oscar Wilde), 'The Great Gatsby' (F Scott Fitzgerald) and 'The Heart of Darkness' (Joseph Conrad).  It seems then that I have ended 2008 as a spendthrift, and I will look to temper this in the coming year.**

Randomly clicking through the webbosphere sometimes offers up little nuggets of joyous information which are truly outstanding to experience.  One such nugget is this coverage of the new year honours list.  Usually I tend to find that Britain's new Knights are previously unknown to me, and I was pleasantly surprised to find Terry Pratchett in the list (SIR Terence, if you please)(His name is Terence)(It is seriously, look it up).  Sir Terry is definitely the coolest Knight ever, and I certainly think more Knights should don a cowboy hat at every opportunity.  A man able to shrug off a disease as an 'embuggerance' sits very comfortably in my hall of heroes (the one off of the MediEvil game, yeah, the one with the talking statues and magical weapons and stuff, that's the one).

Another author who resides in my literary Valhalla (though he isn't dead - and neither is Terry Pratchett)(in retrospect, that was a bad analogy) is Haruki Murakami, who I discovered in the summer (that is to say his books.  I wasn't on an archaeological dig where authors past and present had been submerged in semi-caustic tar and where I then would have to dig them out using only newspaper folded into a cone.)(I would however, be tempted into such an occasion).

Having read 'Dance Dance Dance', which gripped me as a book due to the vibrant realism of it's characters and situation, which often melded seamlessly into surrealism, I was looking forward immensely to reading 'Norwegian Wood', and it didn't disappoint.  The surrealism which gripped me in 'Dance Dance Dance' is opted out of 'Norwegian Wood', Murakami paints the real world uncannily accurately in this novel, to my tastes at least.  I feel that he really has a knack for teasing the remarkable from the ordinary, and his narrative, which could easily pass for a real-life account, masterfully draws the profound from the mundane.

**Or maybe I'm just indulging my mancrush for the work of Haruki Murakami.  Certainly reading this book has influenced both my music and reading tastes, inasmuch as I have listened to the Beatles, and purchased 'The Great Gatsby' (for £2! Who knew you could buy anything for two pounds anymore? Apart from anyone who was at Woolworths in it's final moments).

Finally then I'd like to summarise a few things that I am looking forward to in 2009 that I am already aware of.  These things are largely comedy based, and some are quite solipsistic, so unless you are interested in a) Live stand-up Comedy in the Cardiff area or b) my life, then you may not really be interested in this concluding paragraph.  However, you are here now, so you may as well finish reading it.  Go on, you curmudgeonly sort.

Right, now that they're gone, I am looking forward to Stewart Lee in his new comedy vehicle, namely, Stewart Lee's Comedy Vehicle (a title which is the product of some good sturdy linear thinking), Richard Herring's 'The Headmaster's Son' in Cardiff (if linking that here means there's no tickets for me I will be righteously miffed) and cheap shows again at the Glee.  From a far more personal angle then I am looking forward to the end of university (my tenure there, not the end of the idea of university), Canada (of going on holiday there, not just general glee at the thought of Canada) and also of scraping funds together in order to make 2009 the first year of my attending the Edinburgh Festival, which I hold as the Holy Grail of events.

That said, I hope that no matter what 2008 held for you, 2009 yields twice the delight.  Happy New Year.

Joyous Season, Friends Like These and a bit of Humph

To begin, allow me to wish you a Joyous Season.

If, however, you are reading this outside of christmastime, or indeed any joyous season, then please hold that greeting in reserve, and bring it out to mull over and keep you warm on any given joyous season that may occur to you in the future.

I have enjoyed Christmas Day this year, though it wasn't spent in a wholly traditional manner.

Having proceeded with the tried and tested 'Present Opening > Christmas Dinner > Family Time' setup, (it went well, as only christmas day can (or can't)), I proceeded to steamroller my way through Danny Wallace's 'Friends Like These'.

Having finished the book, and having enjoyed it immensely, I am now in direct conflict with my own eyes, which have decided that due to spending hours reading, they are due a bit of rest.  However, it is my belief that they are needed somewhat in order to complete this rather haphazard effort at a blog.

'Friends Like These' is an awesome read; human, endearing and funny, an excting and interesting attempt to stave off perceived the beige, drab normality of adulthood.  At least, that's my reading of it.  I certainly took heart from it's insightful and ultimately upbeat message.  I fully intend on filling my mental engine room with Danny Wallace's literary coal in the near future (though that makes it sound as though I am literally going to set his books on fire and just watch the flames flicker majestically, which isn't what I'm attempting to portray.  No.  I intend to read them).

I also recently came into contact with a televised episode of 'I'm Sorry I Haven't a Clue', which I have only sporadically caught during my very few years of listening to radio shows, though each time I did listen to it, it was a delight.  Unsurprisingly then, the BBC 4 recording was no exception, providing a solid half hour of constant chuckling, which was quite painful, since I was striving to remain silent for the sake of the people sleeping in the house (every single person bar me.  And it was their house).  Upon viewing the tribute message at the end of the show, I was distressed to discover that the veteran, powerhouse of a Chairman, Humphrey Lyttelton, had passed away earlier this year (2008).

I was then pleasantly surprised to discover a documentary about the very man playing the same night.  I have no particular like or dislike of documentaries, but I found this one hugely wonderful, and the amount of both respect and love bestowed upon Humphrey Lyttelton by so many individuals, from quite disparate walks of life, was both surprising and incredibly moving.

I was also quite shocked at my own lack of knowledge, inasmuch as I was utterly unaware of the great man's musical background.  Discovering that an individual, who's work I thought I was aware of, is in fact far more famous for something altogether different was both wonderful and at the same time unsettling.

To be completely honest, I am slightly disappointed that I am not able to make an incisive point at the end of this, since I feel that both 'Friends Like These' and the selected life and works of Humphrey Lyttelton, compacted conveniently into an hour's worth of television, should have left me able to explain, or at least convey generally, the sort of feelings that they have evoked in me.

However, I find myself unable to express more than a feeble: 'I want to do good' sentiment.  Which is sort of like me kneeling at the feet of every human being that ever touched another human being positively, with the hollowed out cadaver of a giant kipper on my head, then rubbing the rotting guts of said kipper, which I was storing in my closed fists, into the shins of every single one individual.

In the absence of a meaningful message, I can only offer an intellectual IOU (an Ay-Ay Ow You) and the promise that eventually, if I am able to last half as long on this planet as Humphrey Lyttelton, I will say something, which may, in poor lighting conditions and in the right disguise, be able to pass for a meaningful message.  For now, I can only hope that we all do some good.  After all, it is the season for it.  Not that you should need a reason.  But it is the season for it.  Ho ho ho.

Gormandising

I was planning on sitting back, last night, and enjoying some comedy that I'd recorded using the magical technology of Sky Plus, but due to busy fingers on the yellow button I managed to delete the programs I was planning on watching. So now that I was without my fill of 'Comedy Store' it was necessary for me to traverse the land of actual scheduled programming, which I did with trepidation.

Luckily for me, the good people of Paramount were playing 'Dave Gorman's Googlewhack Adventure'(also available as a book), which I hadn't seen before, though I vaguely remembered seeing 'Are You Dave Gorman?' on television many years ago. It was brilliant, an interesting and manic journey. If you can watch that show and not be gripped by it, you are a robot. Dave Gorman manages to be an everyman figure and a maniac at the same time, a combination that had me invested in the story every step of the way.

I will certainly be keeping a keen eye for any new stuff from Mr. Gorman in the future.

The' Googlewhack Adventure' led me, inevitably I suppose, to attempt a Googlewhack. For those not familiar with the fine art of Googlewhacking, it comprises of putting two words into Google that come out with only one result.

Surprisingly, it took me a very short time to get one. The two words were 'Inclement Interrabang'. I realise by writing this I may have killed the Googlewhack, but I don't care, it's mine, so there.

I'd like to help Googlewhackers out a little by putting slightly odd words in my blog, but I can't tell how far this is an unctuous desire, and if I go bumptiously gallivanting in a hoyden manner I might draw indictment upon this blog, which will lessen the salience and the efficacy of my writings, and will reduce all of this to a melange of blather.

I think I'll end this now before this all becomes moribund.

(Perhaps that's why Academic writing has so much pomp and ceremony, they are just trying to help Googlewhackers).

******************

EDIT 04 July 2009

******************

After re-clicking the link to the Googlewhack I have discovered that it is indeed still a Googlewhack at this point. Hilariously (?) it is however a link to this very page. Making this post a post about a googlewhack which is actually the googlewhack itself. How very masturbatory.

The Compelling Use of Mr. Jesus' Power & Academia's Tight Tweed Chinos

I had my first run-in with films from the Exorcist Mythos recently, both versions of the prequel, Dominion: Prequel to the Exorcist and Exorcist: The Beginning.  The creation of the two films is an interesting story, because they are meant to be, if not the same, then a similar story.  The two films work on the same concept, this came about because when the original film was finished (Dominion), the Studio was dissatisfied with it, and like enraged monkeys playing with their cack, they decided to commission the film again with a different director, and proceeded to throw more money at it this time around.

 

Having seen the two films back-to-back, the huge differences between them are striking, especially the level of filthy language held within.  Some footage from Dominion was actually recycled and used in The Beginning, even though the take on the story was almost completely different, even down to the actual character that was possessed (a fairly key plot point).  The Beginning also changed some members of the cast, though they did keep Stellan Skarsgård as the lead, who certainly had (for the most part) a surprisingly good, old Imperial British accent.

 

The consensus from the trilogy of viewers that we were, was that Dominion, as the thoughtful slower film, was the better of the two, despite being originally canned by the film people.  In comparison, The Beginning was less of a psycho-thriller and more of a straight, cheesy, foul-mouthed, aimed-at-America horror.

 

The other topic alluded to in the cryptic title is the habit of academic works to have boring titles.  It became apparent during a seminar several weeks ago that it was not necessary for academic articles, works or books to have stuffy and tedious titles and style, which has led me to pick boring titles, and attempt to make them more suited to mine palate.

 

Some examples from the Journal, Discourse & Society:

Racism in the News: A Critical Discourse Analysis of News Reporting in Two Australian Newspapers  (Peter Teo)

My personal edit would have read:

Oh! Those Aussies, buncha Racists!

 

also:

The Management of Heterosexist Talk: Conversational Resources and Prejudiced Claims  (Susan Speer & Jonathan Potter)

and my edit:

How to get away with sexism!

and finally:

Language, Gender and Floor Apportionment in Political Debates  (Sylvia Show)

which I'd make:

Women in Political Debates: Ha, Ha, Ha, Hee Hee, Hee.... no.

 

I suppose I've shot myself in the foot slightly, proving perhaps that academic works should stick with their own register.  I still think academics shouldn't be so stuffy, and should strive to stop their gatekeeping ways and make their works more accessible.

 So after proving that Exorcist Prequels and the Academic style of writing go together like toothpaste and micro chips, I will now leave you to muse on whichever topic you please.

Balls of Dragons, Calibrating Souls and Lanes of Memory

I was recently linked a trailer for the upcoming adaptation of the Dragonball franchise.  Having been shown pictures of the film awhile ago I thought it was likely to be a significant amount of parp, but the trailer has managed to change that ever so slightly.

For the series 'Asian Invasion', Japanese film director Ryuhei Kitamura (Versus, Azumi, Godzilla:Final Wars) was asked, by Jonathan Ross (FNWJR, Radio 2, Prank Phone Calls), what he thought of the American adaptation of Godzilla.  He replied that it was a good giant lizard film, but a bad Godzilla film.

I am currently expecting the same thing to be true of the Dragonball film, from what I've seen it looks quite epic, but it doesn't seem to have captured the feel of the original very well.  One huge no-no, for me, is the omission of the hapless cue-ball; Krillin.  The film does however have Chow Yun Fat in it, playing the role of Master Roshi, who originally looked like this.  I suppose we'll just have to wait and see whether or not Master Chow has the stomach for the role.

I also have to wonder if they'll drop in an 'Over 9000' reference...

If your interest is peaked, I wouldn't recommend searching for it online.  Not unless you particularly enjoy Rick Astley.

Apart from this I have invested time into Soul Calibur IV, because of the, erm, battle system.  I've also been playing War of the Lions, genuinely because of the gameplay.

Time was also taken out in order to visit the school I used to go to, which is always a good outing, and proved so again.

I am soon to be forced into action in order to plough my way through some Uni work.  Sometimes I think lecturers want the moon on a stick...

Seizures, Science, Rockets, Radox & The Bristol Stool Chart

I find myself indebted to the Science Festival that was the cause of the comedy night that I had the privilege of attending last night (Sunday 7th). It fashioned itself as an experimental night, an attempt to discover whether Science & Comedy can be mashed together in a sweet & sour mix of information and hilarity.

The night was itself was a bit like a campfire. A stuttering beginning could have led to a regret of ever going camping, but after awhile we were all very glad to have made the trip. By the end of the night there was a veritable bonfire of hilarity to be witnessed, though, as comedy is a subjective thing, I may not be speaking on behalf of all attendees.

The line-up was a good one then, and though we had seen one comedian, Henry Widdicombe, perform on the Tuesday previous, seeing him go through the same set made it funnier, rather than tedious, perhaps due to the nature of the particular audience. Though the material hadn't gone down badly in the Union, it went down particularly amazingly in front of a crowd of scientists (or at least a pro-science audience).

The compere, Mark Olver, was masterful in his ability to stoke the audience, especially considering the unique nature of the crowd.

The opening act then was Dan Mitchell, who we'd also seen recently, and his material this time around was just as good. We found particular glee in his use of Welsh translation as a comic tool, and we agree that jellyfishes are indeed Conts Y Mor.

The specifically scientific comedy was brought by Helen Keen, Dave Steele and Dean Burnett, each looking at both science and comedy quite distinctly from each other, and yet each teasing the comedy out of their subjects well.

Overall it was an absolutely hilarious line-up, each quite different from the other and yet all styles fused together wonderfully. The audience certainly were a bit static at times, and it was mused on by the acts that perhaps comedy and science weren't wholly compatible due to this, however for me, the times where the audience were slightly awkward simply aided the comedy. At the very least, I wholly enjoyed myself.

Science Comedy

This fine eve I will be partaking of some free Cardiff-based Science Comedy with my partner-in-comedy.

This is an excuse of sorts then, and a promise of a review in the near future.

If you are really in the need of some comedy though, have a check of this.

Danger of Meaning (Caution: Contains more hyphens than the Queen's Guestlist)

I thought I'd embark on a journey of hypothetical discovery again today. I thought I'd tackle one of life's lesser uncertainties, namely the meaning of life. Or more specifically what it is, if anything, that gives life a point.

My analysis quickly became quite cack-handed before it really began, as I proceeded to short-sightedly tread on toes. Who'd have thought that suggesting that people's lives are pointless could upset people? A personal rule of thumb that has become very relevant today is the old 'Think Afore Ye Speak".

My uplifting conclusion on this topic after a grueling day of consideration is thus:

If you believe, as I do, that there is no super-being in the clouds (or possibly on the moon, with a holiday home on Venus) orchestrating the flow of lives like a multi-tasking Handel, then the Judgement Day scenarios, as laid out in , seem redundant. Similarly, to my mind, the likelihood of a 'Life-After-Death' without the presence of a scripture-based God and part-time Super-Saiyan running the whole venue (gardening, electrics and just basic maintenance really), seems fairly low.

Some other theorems have their attraction, the Gaia theory's returning to the earth has a sort of groovy appeal, due to the pseudo-sensible, cyclical 'natural order' it seems to follow.

However, if you are a bit of a cynical sod, then the knowledge that eventually, as Time trudges inexorably onward, dragging it's muddy steel toe-caps through the chaff of existence, all human endeavor will come to nothing. After many millions of years, not even the hint of a scar on the bum-cheek of Everything will be left. Not even a suggestion that a bunch of monkeys once came down out of the trees, covered their willies, their foofies and their boobies with cloth so that they couldn't see each other, built walls so they didn't have to be near each other, made weapons so they didn't have to live with each other, and then radio, t.v. and eventually the internet, so that they didn't have to actually interact with each other. That will certainly be a sad day then, the day when humanity's legacy of silly social foolery will seem like nothing more than a pipette of H20 squeezed tentatively into the Mediterranean.

So with that little nucleus of hopeful thought released lovingly into the atmosphere, hopefully putting everything into halcyon perspective, it's probably best to get as much in now as you can, because nothing lasts forever.

Despite painting a fatalist, pointless portrait of everything, I suppose it's not all bad.

Of course, if my current 'Meaning of Life' doesn't suit your outlook, you can always side with Monty Python.

I suppose the actual message is; in this vast sea of everything, it is impossible to find an ultimate, one-size-fits-all 'meaning' or 'point' of life, I genuinely believe no-one else can prescribe a meaning/point to anyone else. I, personally, go for a mix of enjoyment (both selfish enjoyment, and an attempt to amuse others) and a helping of attempted self-improvement and ethical behaviour as my guideline. If this doesn't help in your personal quest for your own 'Meaning of Life', you're just going to have to work it out yourself, sorry.

** The opinions expressed in this blog may not necessarily be proved either logically or empirically, at this time, they are merely opinions.**

Despite painting a hopeless picture, the author of the blog is a firm believer in the 'Carry of Anyway' Philosophy, under the banner - something is bound to come along sooner or later to make life worth living, you've just got to find it. Good luck, you may need it.

Disclaiming & a short analysis of 'Chivalry'

A foreword of sorts then, in order to qualify anything that may come during this process, however long it may last for.

The creation of this blog is down to a number of factors, mostly a combination of ambition tempered by imitation, the need to be a goody-two-shoes and follow advice and an enjoyment of writing. I think mostly, however, it's probably a desire to espouse my opinions in an environment where being interrupted isn't an issue (and where I can deliberate over comebacks, should comments occur)...(should readers occur).

This then is an attempt at a ponderous flow of consciousness, in order to chain down and scrutinise, as someone with a microscope studies creatures that swarm and multiply in a drop of water, ideas that swarm and multiply in my brain.

Apologising too much is a notable trait of mine, and today is no exception as I will apologise in advance for any trash or parp that may follow, but I suppose that's what the address bar at the top of the page is for, if you don't like this, utilise your w1kd typing skills and remove these words from your eyes. My guess is you'll go either to YouTube or Facebook. That's probably where I'd go.

---------------------------------------------------------------

I thought I'd start out then with a brief, or mayhap not so brief, look at chivalry, what constitutes chivalry, then deciding whether or not it can be relevant to modern life.

According to that great source of half-cocked unreliable information, Wikipedia; 'Chivalry' consists of three elements, namely:

• Knightly Virtues
• Honour and
• Courtly Love

My investigative intuition then took me deep into analysis of these 3 components (or in real terms, into 3 tabs of Wikipedia).

Itym the First: Knightly Virtues

Knightly Virtues is a vague term at best, and any attempts by me to clarify, or shorten the list somewhat only led to more inclusions into the category. Here is a non-exhaustive list of my favourite possible virtues:

• Prudence
  
• Temperance
• Devotion
• Endurance
• Faith
• Hope and ,of course,
• Horsemanship.

Similarly to a bag of Revels then, Knightly Virtues contain some agreeable nuggets, but also some brown chunks that look suspiciously like droplets of feces, as maybe a sheep might make. At face value then, some of these values indeed seem like fairly pragmatic attitudes to value, prudence (common sense), temperance (self-restraint) and hope (hope) are positive virtues to hold.

On the other gauntlet, some are perhaps loaded terminology, faith for example is a word with many possible meanings. It is likely that during the medieval period where these 'Knightly Values' originate, 'Faith' was most likely a religious virtue, and if this is the case I would distance myself from it greatly, however I am not without faith, I just decide to place it in more logical areas.

And to be honest, I'm aware that no-one really needs a sarcastic git like myself to point out that certain virtues listed are specifically Medieval in nature. Maybe reintroducing certain Medieval values wouldn't be a bad idea however, my opinions would definitely have a lot more salience if I was in this get-up.

Itym the Second: Honour

Honour then, perhaps a more straight forward ideal, though whether or not it is relevant or even present anymore is surely a highly subjective matter. After some searching I stumbled upon the definition of honour which I plan to use. In my terms then:

Honour is the content of a person's character, an honourable person then is honest, worthy of respect, fair and someone who has integrity.

These aspect then are still relevant to inter-personal relations, and I believe that people should strive to be as honourable as possible, even if people who refer to their honour, e.g. "I swear on my honour", are usually burkes.

Itym the Third: Courtly Love

This is the aspect that makes the least sense really (I don't think she'd be anywhere near this famous if it wasn't for Kurt Cobain). My understanding of 'Courtly Love' is that a certain type of relationship became apparent in Medieval courts, and that this was in some way a counter to the then-normative Christian view of love, which enforced and enshrined marriage as an ultimate power, and considered love outside of marriage abhorrent. Wikipedia deconstructs 'Courtly Love' as a relationship where:

"The lover (idolizer) accepts the independence of his mistress and tries to make himself worthy of her by acting bravely and honorably (nobly) and by doing whatever deeds she might desire."

'Courtly Love' in this sense then is a man embarking on knightly self-improvement in order to meet the criteria of a bossy cow (this is not an attempt to typecast all women as bossy cows, only those who desire an 'idolizer' to perform 'whatever deeds she might desire'). Plainly then I am in stark disagreement with the notion of 'Courtly Love' as it is set out here, I'd much prefer to indulge in some coatly love. I am unsure, however, that I would prefer Courtney Love (please note the choice of neutral photograph).

Chivalry, then, is perhaps not wholly relevant in this day and age, and though it does contain a number of (in my opinion) good ideas, the fact that it was formed during a time where religious thought was the staple, and where your ability to poke people with sticks from the back of a horse was just as important as whether or not you were a sensible fellow, leads me to believe that chivalry probably shouldn't be applied nowadays.

***

There we are for now then, hopefully if you've read through this you weren't bored out of your mind, but if you were and struggled on anyway thank you for your perseverance.

My aim with this was to clarify 'Chivalry' for myself, and maybe, just maybe, providing someone somewhere with a small amount of amusement. At the very least now you will be armed with some basic information to counter people who trot out with regret the old adage that 'Chivalry is dead'.

You will be able to assert that death is a natural part of everything, and that the law of equivalence demands that if chivalry was brought back to life through some sacrificial druidic rite, so too would something else long buried, and if bringing back Chivalry risks Zombie-Hitler, then I say let chivalry rest.