Wow. That was a long break. Finally moved in to the new place and, incredibly, condensed all of my stuff into a room half the size of my old one. The new place is great. Far, far less "studenty", this place actually has carpets in the living room and hall! It's also nice to get away from a house that consistently stunk of smoke due to Kasia's habit of lighting up in the kitching and living room. And it's CLEAN! Not a mouse in sight, awesome. No more Polish meals using up 3 pans and thirty plates; I'm in heaven. I will state here for the record: I will never, EVER live with an Eastern European again. And congratulations Kasia, you've put me off ever wanting to visit your country.
So life continues ever onward. Once I've got my finances in order and the bond is back in my account from the old house, I've decided to start fencing. No, I don't mean with hammer and nails, I mean with a sword and a sieve on my face. For £30, I get 6 lessons followed by a month's membership. Bargain. If I hate it, it's cost me the same as two Bushido lessons. Speaking of which, my first Bushido grading is on August 27th. I am pretty sure I won't be ready for it. It's a mere 4 weeks away! Last Monday I got taught a little Aikido which was awesome. I much prefer it to the karate side of Bushido - a big guy can take a few kicks without pause, but if you get him in a wrist lock and he weighs 20 stone, he is going DOWN (and a lot faster than a smaller person).
Tonight I'm taking Gilly to San Carlo on Corn Street. It's supposed to be a quality Italian restaurant, with all the staff and owners having moved over from there. My experience with shrimp in Skiathos has given me the taste for seafood, so I'll probably end up choosing something fishy...but they are also supposed to do a great steak too. Ah, the choices.
Final Fantasy 8 progresses, disc 2 and counting. I'll soon be looking to play the next one, but instead of getting a PS1, I'll probably just skip a generation and get a PS2. They're backwards compatible so it makes more sense. And I've not seen a console churn out more quality RPGs than the Playstation, not since the Megadrive/SNES days anyway. So if anyone has a PS2 for sale, let me know. They'll be coming down in price soon anyway with the imminent release of the PS3. Wonder if the PS3 is going to be backwards compatible too?
Toodle-oo.
Friday, July 29, 2005
Sunday, July 17, 2005
Housetastic!
It's been a while, as the last week has been so damn hectic. We've finally got a deposit down on a house. Whilst not perfect (one of the rooms is pretty small, so it'll be in the lap of the gods as to who gets it), it's really nicely decorated and with the absence of any Polish hurricanes this time round, it may well stay that way. Moving in date: next Saturday, if all goes well. That will then give us another week to shift remaining stuff over there, and clean up the existing place. God knows what Kasia's room is going to look like...from the outside looking in, you can barely see anything thanks to the perpetual fog of cigarette smoke lingering in the room like a Jehovah's Witness who just won't take a hint.
Decided to boot up Final Fantasy 8 again, and instantly lost myself for 2 and a half hours this afternoon. They could easily make a spin-off based around the card mini-game in it, that alone could eat up hours of your life. Then again, maybe they have. I'm not as up to date on the gaming scene as I once was. Maybe when I finally get enough cash saved for a new PC, things will be different. But along with a PC, I could really use around 6 months holiday a year. That would be nice.
A Clash of Kings progresses well. The start was a little slow, as Martin is trying to re-introduce all the characters again. I'm sure it'll kick in soon though. The new Henry Porter book was released yesterday to gaggles of screaming teenagers, some of whom had been queueing for up to 18 hours. Yes, EIGHTEEN HOURS in a queue, just to get a damn book. Now THAT, my friends, is the power of marketing. By all accounts, the reviews are not pretty. "Chundering", "stale" and "disjointed" are what I've heard so far, which tallies up with the state of the last book. Luckily, I won't need to buy it as Gilly pre-ordered hers about 3 months ago. Still, old J.K. can rest assured in the knowledge that even if the last book bombs, she'll still have over half a billion quid tucked away for a rainy day. Not bad for someone who has had just 6 books published. Apparently Book 7 may be some time because the movie franchise needs to catch up (they are currently 2 books behind, if you take into account that film 4 is out this year). Methinks a change of cast may be needed, unless you want 17 year old Henry to be played by a middle-aged chap with drooping jowls and a water retention problem. OK, so the actors may not be that old by then, but I've developed a taste for hyperbole and I'm going to wield it like a member of the Opposition.
Anyway, I think I may head up to the White Bear with Andy for the quiz a bit later and see if I can inject some monetary adrenaline into my flagging bank account.
Toodle pip.
Decided to boot up Final Fantasy 8 again, and instantly lost myself for 2 and a half hours this afternoon. They could easily make a spin-off based around the card mini-game in it, that alone could eat up hours of your life. Then again, maybe they have. I'm not as up to date on the gaming scene as I once was. Maybe when I finally get enough cash saved for a new PC, things will be different. But along with a PC, I could really use around 6 months holiday a year. That would be nice.
A Clash of Kings progresses well. The start was a little slow, as Martin is trying to re-introduce all the characters again. I'm sure it'll kick in soon though. The new Henry Porter book was released yesterday to gaggles of screaming teenagers, some of whom had been queueing for up to 18 hours. Yes, EIGHTEEN HOURS in a queue, just to get a damn book. Now THAT, my friends, is the power of marketing. By all accounts, the reviews are not pretty. "Chundering", "stale" and "disjointed" are what I've heard so far, which tallies up with the state of the last book. Luckily, I won't need to buy it as Gilly pre-ordered hers about 3 months ago. Still, old J.K. can rest assured in the knowledge that even if the last book bombs, she'll still have over half a billion quid tucked away for a rainy day. Not bad for someone who has had just 6 books published. Apparently Book 7 may be some time because the movie franchise needs to catch up (they are currently 2 books behind, if you take into account that film 4 is out this year). Methinks a change of cast may be needed, unless you want 17 year old Henry to be played by a middle-aged chap with drooping jowls and a water retention problem. OK, so the actors may not be that old by then, but I've developed a taste for hyperbole and I'm going to wield it like a member of the Opposition.
Anyway, I think I may head up to the White Bear with Andy for the quiz a bit later and see if I can inject some monetary adrenaline into my flagging bank account.
Toodle pip.
Monday, July 11, 2005
War of the Worlds vs Batman Begins
I really wanted to love War of the Worlds. I did. The problem is, it was too well-promoted for me to expect anything less than a classic film. Therein, I was disappointed. Maybe if I'd read the book, I'd have been aware of how it ends and so not left gaping at the screen with an "Uh?" expression on my face. When I say "ends", I mean "cuts off". Finito, done, dusted, over. Like a guillotine through the film's tape. A quick explanation, then rolling credits. You think "hmm...ok." Then you think about the film, and you think about Tom Cruise's character.
“Hey, let’s drive our stolen minivan through that enormous throng of desperate pedestrians -- that sure won’t cause us any hardship!”
“Y’know, since those multiple, unstoppable, fast-approaching death machines are mercilessly attacking us, let’s all climb aboard this extremely vulnerable ferryboat -- they’ll never catch us then!”
“Gee, let’s all scuffle about behind this 48-inch tall antique mirror -- then that persistent, evil, well-lighted camera-sensor-tentacle thingy certainly won’t notice us!”
Come on. Spielberg can do decent sci-fi. Close Encounters (a little over-rated) and Minority Report proved that. So instead of turning a thoughtful science fiction novel (albeit with the same lax ending) into a schmaltzy treatise about parenting, why not give the audience something less sickly to get engrossed in? Independence Day worked because it was a) cheesy, b) fun and c) mixed them both with decent thrills. WOTW takes itself way too seriously, and as such, loses a lot of credibility.
Batman Begins, on the other hand, is superb. Every detail, from Christian Bale's brooding hero to Liam Neeson's morality-choked villain, via Gary Oldman's superb playing-against-type Sergeant Gordon, is fantastic. Like Michael Keaton, Bale has the quirkiness to fit the role - something that Kilmer and Clooney's pretty-but-empty presences lacked. Even the plot was a lot more plausible, albeit very similar to the original film's chemical shenanigans. And despite the fact that Christopher "Memento" Nolan rewrote Wayne's parent/Joker link, the film still works. Something that works in favour of the film is the way all the science is explained. Bruce Wayne isn't an invulnerable superhero, he's a guy that kicks ass purely because he put himself in situations where he got beaten up and had to defend himself. He doesn't have awesome technology just lying around, it's been taken from the scientific research department of his company and manufactured to fit his alter-ego and funded by his vast wealth. Most films expect you to assume this no questions asked...that's why this film is different, and therefore a little bit special.
Here's hoping the Bale/Nolan partnership continues for many films to come.
“Hey, let’s drive our stolen minivan through that enormous throng of desperate pedestrians -- that sure won’t cause us any hardship!”
“Y’know, since those multiple, unstoppable, fast-approaching death machines are mercilessly attacking us, let’s all climb aboard this extremely vulnerable ferryboat -- they’ll never catch us then!”
“Gee, let’s all scuffle about behind this 48-inch tall antique mirror -- then that persistent, evil, well-lighted camera-sensor-tentacle thingy certainly won’t notice us!”
Come on. Spielberg can do decent sci-fi. Close Encounters (a little over-rated) and Minority Report proved that. So instead of turning a thoughtful science fiction novel (albeit with the same lax ending) into a schmaltzy treatise about parenting, why not give the audience something less sickly to get engrossed in? Independence Day worked because it was a) cheesy, b) fun and c) mixed them both with decent thrills. WOTW takes itself way too seriously, and as such, loses a lot of credibility.
Batman Begins, on the other hand, is superb. Every detail, from Christian Bale's brooding hero to Liam Neeson's morality-choked villain, via Gary Oldman's superb playing-against-type Sergeant Gordon, is fantastic. Like Michael Keaton, Bale has the quirkiness to fit the role - something that Kilmer and Clooney's pretty-but-empty presences lacked. Even the plot was a lot more plausible, albeit very similar to the original film's chemical shenanigans. And despite the fact that Christopher "Memento" Nolan rewrote Wayne's parent/Joker link, the film still works. Something that works in favour of the film is the way all the science is explained. Bruce Wayne isn't an invulnerable superhero, he's a guy that kicks ass purely because he put himself in situations where he got beaten up and had to defend himself. He doesn't have awesome technology just lying around, it's been taken from the scientific research department of his company and manufactured to fit his alter-ego and funded by his vast wealth. Most films expect you to assume this no questions asked...that's why this film is different, and therefore a little bit special.
Here's hoping the Bale/Nolan partnership continues for many films to come.
Thursday, July 07, 2005
Whatever happens, we will NEVER live in a climate of fear
British people are nothing if not resolute. Today's attacks by Al-Qaeda terrorists will not have the intended results. Just like September 11th brought renewed resilience in New York and the US, the determination to carry on with normal lives will be forthright tomorrow, and in the coming weeks amongst the British people. The problem terrorists have with trying to dampen our spirit is that we're so damn downhearted most of the time anyway, an event like this only serves to bring us closer together. It would be good if some other changes come about after this though - such as clamping down our borders and kicking out the hate-spewing fanatics littering Britain's city streets.
The British people will only be made stronger by today's events.
The British people will only be made stronger by today's events.
Wednesday, July 06, 2005
He's gone! He's back! He's gone! He's back!
I no longer care! As far as I'm concerned, if Steven Gerrard can't make up his mind whether he wants to play for a team that just won the Champions League then he shouldn't play, it's that simple. A man who claims to want to stay, yet rejects a wage that exceeds the GNP of many countries on the globe only to have a "change of heart" at the eleventh hour is not someone I would want to be passing a ball to if I were in that team. Apparently, he's not going to change his mind again but I'll be damned if I believe that. Give the captain's armband to someone who knows where his roots lie, like Jamie Carragher, and have done with it.
Congratulations to Lord Coe for winning us the Olympics. I bet the London borough councils were loving that. More tax increases, higher house prices, more public money diverted to fund numerous buildings that will become white elephants after a few weeks, and a shedload of people heading over here from other countries (a minority of which, I'm sure, will slip quietly through the cracks of immigration enforcement into the country's underworld). Woo.
On a more positive note, I've finally got my hands on book two of George R R Martin's A Song of Ice and Fire: A Clash of Kings. It's taken me two weeks but I'm sure it is going to be worth the wait. I'm off to bed to get some reading done.
Congratulations to Lord Coe for winning us the Olympics. I bet the London borough councils were loving that. More tax increases, higher house prices, more public money diverted to fund numerous buildings that will become white elephants after a few weeks, and a shedload of people heading over here from other countries (a minority of which, I'm sure, will slip quietly through the cracks of immigration enforcement into the country's underworld). Woo.
On a more positive note, I've finally got my hands on book two of George R R Martin's A Song of Ice and Fire: A Clash of Kings. It's taken me two weeks but I'm sure it is going to be worth the wait. I'm off to bed to get some reading done.
Sunday, July 03, 2005
Live 8
I've just managed to drag myself out of bed after one of those nights where you go for a quiet drink and end up absolutely blotto. Perhaps mixing wine and different types of cider isn't the best thing to do if you want a settled stomach. Ah well, I did get to try 4 different ciders before staggering home from Cotham Porter Stores with Stu and Andy. We also saw the majority of the UK Live 8 broadcast, but by the time it got to the Philadelphia show, I was too tired so in the end I missed the act I wanted to see - Def Leppard. Luckily AOL are rebroadcasting the whole event, and in a few days you should even be able to pick the artists/songs you want to listen to.
So will the concert make a difference? It certainly raised awareness of the plight in Africa, but whether or not it will be concerning the leaders at the G8 Summit is another matter. These people are politicians after all. It seems these days that the only people who use their power, wealth and influence to do anything worthwhile are rock stars. World rulers will do what they want, and be damned with the consequences. Just like Bush cares nothing for the amount of pollution his country is producing, so our leaders will only look after their best interests. The voters are finally speaking up though, the European referendum farce may well be the start of something bigger. People are starting to make their views known, and aren't content with being pushed around by politicians like Blair and Chirac. So maybe Live 8 will make an impact on some level, time will tell I guess.
So will the concert make a difference? It certainly raised awareness of the plight in Africa, but whether or not it will be concerning the leaders at the G8 Summit is another matter. These people are politicians after all. It seems these days that the only people who use their power, wealth and influence to do anything worthwhile are rock stars. World rulers will do what they want, and be damned with the consequences. Just like Bush cares nothing for the amount of pollution his country is producing, so our leaders will only look after their best interests. The voters are finally speaking up though, the European referendum farce may well be the start of something bigger. People are starting to make their views known, and aren't content with being pushed around by politicians like Blair and Chirac. So maybe Live 8 will make an impact on some level, time will tell I guess.
Friday, July 01, 2005
War of the Words
The 12A certification debate rages on. The Daily Mail has launched a campaign to "unmask" the censors who watched War of the Worlds and deemed it suitable for kids of any age to watch it (as long as they're accompanied by an adult). I've not yet seen the film as it is on this weekend's to-do list, but it apparently contains "sustained menace" and scenes of moderate horror. Several children under 12 who have seen it have been "left traumatised". So the Daily Mail's solution? Find out the names of the bastards wot done it and give 'em a good shoein'. Or at least, the middle-class tabloid equivalent. After all, pillorying two people because their opinion about the suitability of a film differs to that of a self-righteous daily rag is perfectly acceptable behaviour. The Sun does it all the time, right?
What the Mail fails to mention is that it was the one behind the campaign to get the 12A rating instated in the first place. When Spiderman came out, the paper couldn't believe the idiotic censor board had given something so harmless a "12" rating. Of course, the violence in Spiderman is just "fine" because it's all comic-book style fisticuffs with not an inch of real menace. Totally suitable for children under 12 apparently, despite the BBFC's decision that it was the most violent film aimed at a young audience that the BBFC has classified. So off they went, campaigning away and eventually the board relented and re-released it as 12A. This certificate is known around the reviewing community with some distate as "12-fuckin'-A", due to the fact that one or two strong words are allowed to be used at this level of certification before it gets bumped up to a "15". Hell's teeth - with all the swearing edited out, I've seen Beverly Hills Cop 2 on TV at 5:30, and John Woo's Broken Arrow showing at midday. So the hypocrisy surrounding this latest vindictive attack is beyond belief. What will printing the names of these two reviewers do, except for stirring up vigilante protesters? It's the board of film classification that passes the films. If you want to talk to someone, try the two people who have their names plastered all over the certificate you see before each film - Quentin Thomas and David Cooke. I'm sure they'd be happy to hear the views of a belligerent Tory tabloid that helped foist the 12A certificate onto the public.
My opinion won't change after I see the film. The certification system is flaky at best - a halfway house between full enforcement and simple resignation to the fact that kids will find a way to see the films they want to see. "12A" is no more than a glorified "PG" - the only difference being that you need to be with an adult to see the former, yet when it comes out on video you have to actually be 12 to buy it since "12A" is a cinema classification and doesn't exist in the video world, thereby contradicting the whole point of the new certificate. Utter madness.
Anyway, that's this Friday's rant over with. Hope it helped your insomnia.
Toodle-pipski.
What the Mail fails to mention is that it was the one behind the campaign to get the 12A rating instated in the first place. When Spiderman came out, the paper couldn't believe the idiotic censor board had given something so harmless a "12" rating. Of course, the violence in Spiderman is just "fine" because it's all comic-book style fisticuffs with not an inch of real menace. Totally suitable for children under 12 apparently, despite the BBFC's decision that it was the most violent film aimed at a young audience that the BBFC has classified. So off they went, campaigning away and eventually the board relented and re-released it as 12A. This certificate is known around the reviewing community with some distate as "12-fuckin'-A", due to the fact that one or two strong words are allowed to be used at this level of certification before it gets bumped up to a "15". Hell's teeth - with all the swearing edited out, I've seen Beverly Hills Cop 2 on TV at 5:30, and John Woo's Broken Arrow showing at midday. So the hypocrisy surrounding this latest vindictive attack is beyond belief. What will printing the names of these two reviewers do, except for stirring up vigilante protesters? It's the board of film classification that passes the films. If you want to talk to someone, try the two people who have their names plastered all over the certificate you see before each film - Quentin Thomas and David Cooke. I'm sure they'd be happy to hear the views of a belligerent Tory tabloid that helped foist the 12A certificate onto the public.
My opinion won't change after I see the film. The certification system is flaky at best - a halfway house between full enforcement and simple resignation to the fact that kids will find a way to see the films they want to see. "12A" is no more than a glorified "PG" - the only difference being that you need to be with an adult to see the former, yet when it comes out on video you have to actually be 12 to buy it since "12A" is a cinema classification and doesn't exist in the video world, thereby contradicting the whole point of the new certificate. Utter madness.
Anyway, that's this Friday's rant over with. Hope it helped your insomnia.
Toodle-pipski.
Thursday, June 30, 2005
Silent protest
They were filming a scene for an upcoming episode of Casualty in the road outside our office today. All the extras were playing protesters, complete with placards. The plot has something to do with paedophiles according to their slogans. The weirdest thing was watching them protest though; since they apparently add the sound later, the extras were waving their fists and signs but were completely silent. It was surreal to watch. I assume the same thing happens in scenes set in dance clubs for a series such as Alias. All these people dancing away randomly to nothing - I couldn't do it, dancing without music is just weird.
I'm listening to Tori Amos as I write this. One day, I may actually hear a song of hers where I understand what she says all the way through. I'm also playing Minesweeper Flags with Gilly who clearly cheats, but does it in such an adorable way that I let it slide. Either that, or I'm just crap. Women have more of a knack for puzzle-type games. My mother used to thrash me at Columns on the Sega Megadrive. She was also addicted to fruit machine simulators on my Amstrad. All of the excitement, none of the risk apparently. And what a team we made playing Streets of Rage, her as Blaze and me as Axel. She rocked.
I need a new badminton racquet. Mine has a handle that's been carefully taped up with Stu's gaffer tape, and it weighs a ton compared to other racquets. Still, it cost me all of £2.50 and has lasted 6 months. You gotta love Sports Soccer.
Cheerybye.
I'm listening to Tori Amos as I write this. One day, I may actually hear a song of hers where I understand what she says all the way through. I'm also playing Minesweeper Flags with Gilly who clearly cheats, but does it in such an adorable way that I let it slide. Either that, or I'm just crap. Women have more of a knack for puzzle-type games. My mother used to thrash me at Columns on the Sega Megadrive. She was also addicted to fruit machine simulators on my Amstrad. All of the excitement, none of the risk apparently. And what a team we made playing Streets of Rage, her as Blaze and me as Axel. She rocked.
I need a new badminton racquet. Mine has a handle that's been carefully taped up with Stu's gaffer tape, and it weighs a ton compared to other racquets. Still, it cost me all of £2.50 and has lasted 6 months. You gotta love Sports Soccer.
Cheerybye.
Wednesday, June 29, 2005
The first rule...
...is that no matter how many times you watch Fight Club it will always rock your pants. Gloriously anarchic and at the same time anti-violent, it's one of those films where repeated viewings deliver more of the message than the first time round. For all the critics that panned it for being bloodthirsty and shallow (this was the first mainstream "violent" movie release after Columbine), perhaps you should try seeing a film for what it is and not what you want it to be.
Heroes 4 progresses nicely. Accustomed to the changes in battles as I am now, I can start to enjoy the little touches that really mark it as one of the best and most enduring series to hit PC. A quick glance at my shelf tells me that I've still got a hell of a lot more games to get through yet before I can justify getting a new computer though. When that happens, and I do actually get to play Half Life 2 as it was meant to be played, it will probably be so far in the future that I'll need something like SCUMM to get it working, just like you need for old LucasArts point and clickies. Speaking of which, Gilly lent me Curse of Monkey Island when we got back from hols, and I booted it up on Friday and finished it on Sunday. I was sure it would be tougher. Ok, so I lied about having no time to blog, but dammit - I type all day at work! She's currently getting narked with the builder in Paris in Broken Sword (which I lent her in exchange for Monkey Island) but it's nice to finally have a girlfriend who is interested in games. I'm sure she'll be asking to borrow the sequel soon...
Heroes 4 progresses nicely. Accustomed to the changes in battles as I am now, I can start to enjoy the little touches that really mark it as one of the best and most enduring series to hit PC. A quick glance at my shelf tells me that I've still got a hell of a lot more games to get through yet before I can justify getting a new computer though. When that happens, and I do actually get to play Half Life 2 as it was meant to be played, it will probably be so far in the future that I'll need something like SCUMM to get it working, just like you need for old LucasArts point and clickies. Speaking of which, Gilly lent me Curse of Monkey Island when we got back from hols, and I booted it up on Friday and finished it on Sunday. I was sure it would be tougher. Ok, so I lied about having no time to blog, but dammit - I type all day at work! She's currently getting narked with the builder in Paris in Broken Sword (which I lent her in exchange for Monkey Island) but it's nice to finally have a girlfriend who is interested in games. I'm sure she'll be asking to borrow the sequel soon...
Tuesday, June 28, 2005
Crash! Boom! Bang!
Despite being a rather catchy Roxette number, that's exactly what it's doing outside right now. I've not heard a storm like it for a few years. Greece has sun, we have rain. Sounds about right for summer.
House hunting progresses slowly. The problem with a democratic house is we're too democratic. Everyone knows exactly what they want, and doesn't really want to budge. I think it'd be easier to get a bill passed in the House of Lords than to compromise on our preferences for the new house. If we leave it much longer though, the decision will be made for us - it'll be whatever is left for us to take. Not ideal.
Forgot to mention yesterday that Jon is leaving WebHost Automation. A sad day indeed. Still, he will most likely be doing some contracting for us, so there will be ample chance to exchange pretentious barbs and self-congratulatory witticisms across the McDonald's table.
Adios.
House hunting progresses slowly. The problem with a democratic house is we're too democratic. Everyone knows exactly what they want, and doesn't really want to budge. I think it'd be easier to get a bill passed in the House of Lords than to compromise on our preferences for the new house. If we leave it much longer though, the decision will be made for us - it'll be whatever is left for us to take. Not ideal.
Forgot to mention yesterday that Jon is leaving WebHost Automation. A sad day indeed. Still, he will most likely be doing some contracting for us, so there will be ample chance to exchange pretentious barbs and self-congratulatory witticisms across the McDonald's table.
Adios.
Monday, June 27, 2005
Long time, no blog
Finally got some time to post my first blog since returning from Greece. Had an awesome time, two weeks of sun, sea, sand and DOLPHINS baby! On one of the trips between Alonissos and Skiathos we had a school of four dolphins chasing just ahead of the boat. Absolutely incredible - if the photos turn out well, I'll get them scanned in here. Skiathos was an amazing island, incredibly laid back and with stupendous restaurants. Some of the best meals we had though were in the taverna at the apartments we stayed at. Kristos (who owns the Hermes Apartments and a restaurant and a sports centre in town too) was great. He had apparently poached the chef from one of the restaurants in the town and we didn't have a bad meal while we were there. The room was great: clean, comfortable, loads of space and everything you could need. There was even a hairdryer, much to Gilly's delight. My suitcase (which, like many fond possessions, had been in the family for over 30 years) decided to fall to pieces as we got off the bus at the hotel, so I had to get another one in town. One of the people on the bus with us told me on the way home that I should claim on the insurance. So I went to the service desk in Gatwick to try my luck. And luck was with me - apparently I needed to have filled out a report about the luggage (but it was the start of my hol and couldn't be bothered). She was in a nice mood though, so said "I'll pretend it got damaged in Gatwick, and you can get sent a new suitcase. What was it like?" Now, I knew it was a plastic-coated expandable cardboardy type thing as was popular in the pinnacle of "style" that was the 1970s, but Gilly had other ideas - "It's a hard plastic case!" she exclaimed. I pointed out that it wasn't hard plastic, but by then the nice lady was pointing on a chart at a Samsonite case ... so I went with the flow. Hell, I deserved a decent case. The one I bought in Skiathos already had a hole in it. And no, I don't feel guilty. Back to the holiday. There was a pool, a pool bar/taverna, and a games room on site, where I thrashed Gilly at table tennis every so often. There were two beaches 5 minutes away from the resort and we were bang in the middle of the bus route which meant it was only 1 Euro to pretty much anywhere. Skiathos is a great island if you want to get away from chavs, ladettes and English people with beer guts the size of Mount Olympus (I'm including women here) that can often be found in Crete/Rhodes/Corfu.
I read voraciously over the holiday, getting through Shadows Fall and A Game of Thrones in two weeks. The first was a nice "alternative" fantasy/mystery/theological amalgamation spoiled by a bit of a sappy ending, but the latter was stupendous. I've never got through an 800 page book so quickly in my life. If you've even got the smallest interest of fantasy, I cannot recommend this highly enough. I've now ordered books 2 and 3 via eBay but I have a feeling they won't last me that long once they arrive. Book 4 is out in September at least. And there's that other thing out in July that people are on about - Henry Porter or something like that. Apparently it's quite a popular series...
If I went to Greece again, it'd be in September. Same weather as June, but the sea will have warmed up. Mind you, with the temperature at the heat it was, I was quite glad of a cool dip every so often. If only the water wasn't so damn salty...ick. Next year I think Croatia is on the cards. Great views off the Dalmatian coast and even cheaper food. When she found out that ice cream was about 35p a scoop, Gilly nearly booked a holiday then and there. I'll definitely be heading back to Skiathos in a few years though. Pack the sun cream though, especially for July and August - I burnt in June so I'd probably be toast if I went any later (I did last 11 days before burning though, which has to be a record).
Anyway, I'm all Bushido'd out so I'm heading to bed. Nighty night.
I read voraciously over the holiday, getting through Shadows Fall and A Game of Thrones in two weeks. The first was a nice "alternative" fantasy/mystery/theological amalgamation spoiled by a bit of a sappy ending, but the latter was stupendous. I've never got through an 800 page book so quickly in my life. If you've even got the smallest interest of fantasy, I cannot recommend this highly enough. I've now ordered books 2 and 3 via eBay but I have a feeling they won't last me that long once they arrive. Book 4 is out in September at least. And there's that other thing out in July that people are on about - Henry Porter or something like that. Apparently it's quite a popular series...
If I went to Greece again, it'd be in September. Same weather as June, but the sea will have warmed up. Mind you, with the temperature at the heat it was, I was quite glad of a cool dip every so often. If only the water wasn't so damn salty...ick. Next year I think Croatia is on the cards. Great views off the Dalmatian coast and even cheaper food. When she found out that ice cream was about 35p a scoop, Gilly nearly booked a holiday then and there. I'll definitely be heading back to Skiathos in a few years though. Pack the sun cream though, especially for July and August - I burnt in June so I'd probably be toast if I went any later (I did last 11 days before burning though, which has to be a record).
Anyway, I'm all Bushido'd out so I'm heading to bed. Nighty night.
Monday, June 06, 2005
As they say in Greece..."Bye".
This'll be my last post for over two weeks as Gilly and I are heading to Greece. Two weeks with beaches, swimming pools, table tennis, books, monasteries and restaurants. No computers though...damn, I'm going to get withdrawals, I can feel it now.
Anyway, see you in a fortnight. Cheerio.
Anyway, see you in a fortnight. Cheerio.
Sunday, June 05, 2005
The Light(saber) Fantastic
Congratulations George, you finally directed a decent Star Wars film! And yes, I am including A New Hope here. Oh come on, pick your jaws up. Everyone knows Episode IV was a bit poo. The only thing worth watching was Harrison Ford. My favourite film (Ewoks aside) was Return of the Jedi. Maybe because it was the first one I ever saw, or maybe because it was simply fun from beginning to end. Revenge of the Sith comes pretty close to beating it.
After a somewhat shaky start, where thousands upon thousands of dollars are flung at us in the form of special effects (so much so, that you just cannot focus), Anakin's descent to the Dark Side starts to kick in. Aside from a dubious "What have I DONE?" to a "Yes, Master" conversion in 30 seconds flat (no joke), the film surpasses all expectations I had of it. Maybe my expectations were unnaturally low because Episodes 1 and 2 were...how can I put it...shit?
This film ties everything together, and actually has something missing from the previous two - emotion. Anyone who fails to be moved by the climactic Skywalker/Kenobi fight has a heart of blackest granite. Ok - yes, Lucas can't write for toffee and yes, the worlds that the characters populate are so incredibly sanitised that it defies logic (does no-one eat? Does no-one have natural bodily functions to take care of? How on EARTH did Amidala get pregnant - I'm assuming by IVF since the chemistry between her and Anakin is zip...), but hell - the guy can direct a battle. Whether it's Yoda vs Palpatine or Palpatine vs Windu, the fights have to be seen to be believed. This is the kind of stuff that kids dream about, and the kind of thing they wish they could do as they wave their sticks around in the playground whilst making "zzzzmmm" noises.
Revenge is also the darkest of all six films. There are limbs scattered amidst some quite nasty lightsaber amputations. No blood though of course, it'd spoil the ambience of the sanitised sets. In my opinion though, dark is good. It's one of the reasons why Angel was so much better than Buffy. I think the series would have benefited a lot more from a more adult overtone, especially these first three films where the 12A certificate would have allowed a little more freedom than a PG. I know I remarked on the abundance of 12A action films recently, but this latest addition is one that actually needs a dark side (sorry) if it is to effectively convey the endgame that fans have been gagging to see for three years. It makes no apologies, and rightly so. And it segues into the following three films that I've got the urge to go and re-watch them. Now that's either clever marketing, or a damn fine prequel to a series. Maybe a bit of both.
I'll forgive George the last two slip-ups. Go and see this, and believe the hype.
After a somewhat shaky start, where thousands upon thousands of dollars are flung at us in the form of special effects (so much so, that you just cannot focus), Anakin's descent to the Dark Side starts to kick in. Aside from a dubious "What have I DONE?" to a "Yes, Master" conversion in 30 seconds flat (no joke), the film surpasses all expectations I had of it. Maybe my expectations were unnaturally low because Episodes 1 and 2 were...how can I put it...shit?
This film ties everything together, and actually has something missing from the previous two - emotion. Anyone who fails to be moved by the climactic Skywalker/Kenobi fight has a heart of blackest granite. Ok - yes, Lucas can't write for toffee and yes, the worlds that the characters populate are so incredibly sanitised that it defies logic (does no-one eat? Does no-one have natural bodily functions to take care of? How on EARTH did Amidala get pregnant - I'm assuming by IVF since the chemistry between her and Anakin is zip...), but hell - the guy can direct a battle. Whether it's Yoda vs Palpatine or Palpatine vs Windu, the fights have to be seen to be believed. This is the kind of stuff that kids dream about, and the kind of thing they wish they could do as they wave their sticks around in the playground whilst making "zzzzmmm" noises.
Revenge is also the darkest of all six films. There are limbs scattered amidst some quite nasty lightsaber amputations. No blood though of course, it'd spoil the ambience of the sanitised sets. In my opinion though, dark is good. It's one of the reasons why Angel was so much better than Buffy. I think the series would have benefited a lot more from a more adult overtone, especially these first three films where the 12A certificate would have allowed a little more freedom than a PG. I know I remarked on the abundance of 12A action films recently, but this latest addition is one that actually needs a dark side (sorry) if it is to effectively convey the endgame that fans have been gagging to see for three years. It makes no apologies, and rightly so. And it segues into the following three films that I've got the urge to go and re-watch them. Now that's either clever marketing, or a damn fine prequel to a series. Maybe a bit of both.
I'll forgive George the last two slip-ups. Go and see this, and believe the hype.
Saturday, June 04, 2005
Wanted - a Bag of Holding
Baldur's Gate's greatest creation would certainly come in handy right now. A 20KG limit on luggage for a 2 week holiday? Seriously, it's just not happening at the moment. I'm resigned to either leaving behind half of the clothes I bought for holiday, or paying an excess charge. It just can't be done. Maybe I could fit some sort of miniature anti-grav pack to the case so it loses a few kilos when they are weighing it. It's as plausible as my original idea, I guess.
Finally finished Frank Skinner's autobiography. The first autobiography I've read, and I'm quite happy I did so. Why anyone would want to go into so much personal detail is beyond me though. He lays out his soul on those pages; I can't believe it's just to shift an extra few thousand units. Anyway, check it out.
I've decided on my holiday reading:
Shadows Fall by Simon R. Green
A Game of Thrones by George R. R. Martin and
Orcs by Stan Nicholls
All fairly meaty books, I'm looking forward to Martin's though. I've been meaning to pick up his stuff for a while now and my brother-in-law James has raved about him for some time, so we shall see. That is, if I get time to do any reading in Greece. I may be too busy scouring monasteries and ruins. Or, more likely, asleep on the beach. It's a tough life.
Went to the Highbury Vaults tonight for a pint with Andy, a TARDIS of a pub that seems to stretch back for miles. It is further benefitted by the inclusion of a Bar Billiards table in the corner, an utterly superb pub game which is, in my opinion, far more enjoyable than pool. And it lasts longer too. This is only the second pub I've seen that has one - if i owned a pub, I'd definitely get one in. If you've not played, come down to Bristol, introduce yourself to the landlord of the Highbury Vaults and say Rob sent you. He won't have a damn clue what you're on about, but it'd be good for a laugh. You could act all mysterious, wear a carnation in your lapel...that sort of thing.
Toodle pip.
Finally finished Frank Skinner's autobiography. The first autobiography I've read, and I'm quite happy I did so. Why anyone would want to go into so much personal detail is beyond me though. He lays out his soul on those pages; I can't believe it's just to shift an extra few thousand units. Anyway, check it out.
I've decided on my holiday reading:
Shadows Fall by Simon R. Green
A Game of Thrones by George R. R. Martin and
Orcs by Stan Nicholls
All fairly meaty books, I'm looking forward to Martin's though. I've been meaning to pick up his stuff for a while now and my brother-in-law James has raved about him for some time, so we shall see. That is, if I get time to do any reading in Greece. I may be too busy scouring monasteries and ruins. Or, more likely, asleep on the beach. It's a tough life.
Went to the Highbury Vaults tonight for a pint with Andy, a TARDIS of a pub that seems to stretch back for miles. It is further benefitted by the inclusion of a Bar Billiards table in the corner, an utterly superb pub game which is, in my opinion, far more enjoyable than pool. And it lasts longer too. This is only the second pub I've seen that has one - if i owned a pub, I'd definitely get one in. If you've not played, come down to Bristol, introduce yourself to the landlord of the Highbury Vaults and say Rob sent you. He won't have a damn clue what you're on about, but it'd be good for a laugh. You could act all mysterious, wear a carnation in your lapel...that sort of thing.
Toodle pip.
Friday, June 03, 2005
Please...don't make Thirteen
Don't get me wrong. I liked Ocean's Eleven. It was flashy, sure - lots of style and a cast to die for. But it also had some semblance of a plot, and the audience was always in on the joke. Here's a dozen movie stars, brought together for a bit of a giggle and to have a good time making a remake of a film that the audience can enjoy.
The same can't be said for Ocean's Twelve. This time we have the same plot, moved to Amsterdam, and with a slightly different reason (Andy Garcia's character wants his money back, else everyone dies) and all the original characters have to come up with a plan to make enough to stay alive. This time round though, none of the cast appear interested. Pitt and Clooney stand around looking smug whilst the rest of the cast dial in their performances and collect a pay cheque. Half of them don't even get to DO anything. Bernie Mac spends half the film in prison. Basher doesn't get to blow anything up. In fact none of the characters except for Vincent Cassel (looking remarkably like Frankie Dettori) appear to be interested - they just sit around and look pleased with themselves.
Instead of Eleven's slow reveals, we have a couple of twists coming out of left-field for no purpose other than to hide them to the end and shove them in the audience's face screaming "PLOT TWIST!!". Would that the reveals were actually any good. No, this time we get a couple of fake robberies and the ultimate twist - gasp - a switch on a train. Holding it all together is a back-slapping, self-congratulatory cringefest of a script where everyone appears to be in on the joke, except the audience. Even director Steven Soderbergh seems to be bored as he switches from angled shots to black and white frames, with locations flashing up in different typefaces - possibly in an attempt to stop the viewer from nodding off by inducing some sort of epileptic reaction. Most of the scenes end with close-ups of characters assuming either an annoyed/shocked pose, or a puzzled look. Indeed, there's so much mugging going on, I had to check my pocket to make sure my wallet hadn't been lifted.
This is a disjointed mess of a film where the enjoyment is clearly kept between the cast and crew at arm's length, and away from any viewer unfortunate enough to sit through the whole 120 minutes in the hope of a decent pay-off. As the end credits roll, you'll feel cheated. It's saying something when I borrow a DVD from a friend and then feel bad for them that they've spent money on it. If you liked the original film, you won't find anything worth watching in this.
The same can't be said for Ocean's Twelve. This time we have the same plot, moved to Amsterdam, and with a slightly different reason (Andy Garcia's character wants his money back, else everyone dies) and all the original characters have to come up with a plan to make enough to stay alive. This time round though, none of the cast appear interested. Pitt and Clooney stand around looking smug whilst the rest of the cast dial in their performances and collect a pay cheque. Half of them don't even get to DO anything. Bernie Mac spends half the film in prison. Basher doesn't get to blow anything up. In fact none of the characters except for Vincent Cassel (looking remarkably like Frankie Dettori) appear to be interested - they just sit around and look pleased with themselves.
Instead of Eleven's slow reveals, we have a couple of twists coming out of left-field for no purpose other than to hide them to the end and shove them in the audience's face screaming "PLOT TWIST!!". Would that the reveals were actually any good. No, this time we get a couple of fake robberies and the ultimate twist - gasp - a switch on a train. Holding it all together is a back-slapping, self-congratulatory cringefest of a script where everyone appears to be in on the joke, except the audience. Even director Steven Soderbergh seems to be bored as he switches from angled shots to black and white frames, with locations flashing up in different typefaces - possibly in an attempt to stop the viewer from nodding off by inducing some sort of epileptic reaction. Most of the scenes end with close-ups of characters assuming either an annoyed/shocked pose, or a puzzled look. Indeed, there's so much mugging going on, I had to check my pocket to make sure my wallet hadn't been lifted.
This is a disjointed mess of a film where the enjoyment is clearly kept between the cast and crew at arm's length, and away from any viewer unfortunate enough to sit through the whole 120 minutes in the hope of a decent pay-off. As the end credits roll, you'll feel cheated. It's saying something when I borrow a DVD from a friend and then feel bad for them that they've spent money on it. If you liked the original film, you won't find anything worth watching in this.
Thursday, June 02, 2005
A Slight Tangent
I missed today's blog, so I am hastily trying to backdate it. The problem is, I have no idea what I did on Thursday. My memory is so awful, that I can barely remember the last hour, let alone the last day. So instead, here are the events of Neil Tate's Thursday - one of the Milton crew, who also manages to beat me at Scrabble every so often (shh!).
"- Came home from work after not working for the last week.
- Made a curry. Not just any curry, but a Madhuban curry - the best curry sauce I have tasted outside of a restaurant or takeaway.
- Watched War at the Door and Airport whilst doing some ironing (methinks Mr. Tate is becoming a bit too domesticated. Seriously....Airport??? - Rob).
- Meanwhile, Gemma [Neil's girlfriend] tidied the house.
- Went to bed."
And there you have it. Let it not be said that this blog does not contain variety.
Oh - I just remembered: the oven got fixed today. Huzzah!
Over and out.
"- Came home from work after not working for the last week.
- Made a curry. Not just any curry, but a Madhuban curry - the best curry sauce I have tasted outside of a restaurant or takeaway.
- Watched War at the Door and Airport whilst doing some ironing (methinks Mr. Tate is becoming a bit too domesticated. Seriously....Airport??? - Rob).
- Meanwhile, Gemma [Neil's girlfriend] tidied the house.
- Went to bed."
And there you have it. Let it not be said that this blog does not contain variety.
Oh - I just remembered: the oven got fixed today. Huzzah!
Over and out.
Wednesday, June 01, 2005
Ovenless
Good job I took Gilly out for a big lunch today since (quelle surprise) the cooker hadn't been fixed. I left a ratty voicemail for them to pick up tomorrow and I'll ring them first thing tomorrow. I can cope with eating sandwiches at night for one day, but not two.
After dropping her at the station (woo...only one week until we're off to Greece!), I went out for a pint with the house. Kasia was very drunk which is always amusing, and bitched about Olesya all night, which was even more amusing. Her favourite earrings went missing, leading Kasia to believe that Olesya is involved. So she invited us to turn her room upside down to find them. So we did. If anyone remembers that old Neil Buchanan show Finders Keepers you will get the idea of what it was like. Drawers ripped out, shelves overturned, chairs thrown around..."look high, look low!". All we needed was a big blue arrow pointing at the location, and we would have been sorted. Stu was in his element. It's always fun to trash someone's room when it isn't your own.
Didn't find the earrings though.
After dropping her at the station (woo...only one week until we're off to Greece!), I went out for a pint with the house. Kasia was very drunk which is always amusing, and bitched about Olesya all night, which was even more amusing. Her favourite earrings went missing, leading Kasia to believe that Olesya is involved. So she invited us to turn her room upside down to find them. So we did. If anyone remembers that old Neil Buchanan show Finders Keepers you will get the idea of what it was like. Drawers ripped out, shelves overturned, chairs thrown around..."look high, look low!". All we needed was a big blue arrow pointing at the location, and we would have been sorted. Stu was in his element. It's always fun to trash someone's room when it isn't your own.
Didn't find the earrings though.
Tuesday, May 31, 2005
Sizzle and Urrrrrrrrgh
Our cooker packed up tonight. Luckily, this was after Gilly had cooked us both an awesome Thai curry (Tip - try Loyd Grossman's sauces...top stuff). Still, when Andy went to use it there was a rather nasty sizzle under one of the hob dials followed by acrid smoke and melting plastic. Then the damn thing got jammed on. So we had to switch the oven off completely. Methinks Jacksons will be getting a call tomorrow. Wonder how long it will take them to get it fixed? EDIT- I have been asked to point out that the cooking of a delicious meal and the disintegration of our hob's controls is purely coincidental, and has absolutely NOTHING to do with the cook.
The search for a new house continues. How hard can it be to find a 4-bedroom house for £1500-1800 a month, less than 2 miles from the centre? Very, actually. We've got just over a month and a half to do so.
Watched National Treasure tonight, a fairly enjoyable throwaway flick with Nicholas Cage and Sean Bean. This has to be only the second action film I've seen where Sean manages to make it to the end credits still drawing breath, so congratulations to him. It was certainly a nicely rounded family film, with the emphasis on family. This was strictly Walt Disney kid-friendly PG material, with little action and none of the mediocrity that has accompanied the glut of 12A-rated mildly gore-filled action films hitting the big screen recently. In fact, it was quite refreshing. Cage seemed a little untested though, he works far better when he has a more complex character to deal with. In a linear Indy-lite role, he could have quite easily sleepwalked through the entire thing, but thankfully he did try and put a bit of effort in. The end result was a farly forgettable, but fun, two-ish hours. I've still not seen Sahara, but I've heard that it is pretty similar - will be taking a look soon.
The search for a new house continues. How hard can it be to find a 4-bedroom house for £1500-1800 a month, less than 2 miles from the centre? Very, actually. We've got just over a month and a half to do so.
Watched National Treasure tonight, a fairly enjoyable throwaway flick with Nicholas Cage and Sean Bean. This has to be only the second action film I've seen where Sean manages to make it to the end credits still drawing breath, so congratulations to him. It was certainly a nicely rounded family film, with the emphasis on family. This was strictly Walt Disney kid-friendly PG material, with little action and none of the mediocrity that has accompanied the glut of 12A-rated mildly gore-filled action films hitting the big screen recently. In fact, it was quite refreshing. Cage seemed a little untested though, he works far better when he has a more complex character to deal with. In a linear Indy-lite role, he could have quite easily sleepwalked through the entire thing, but thankfully he did try and put a bit of effort in. The end result was a farly forgettable, but fun, two-ish hours. I've still not seen Sahara, but I've heard that it is pretty similar - will be taking a look soon.
Monday, May 30, 2005
Monday Lunch
Bank Holiday Monday roasts seem to be turning into a regular thing. At the start of the month I cooked myself and Gilly a superb joint of beef with all the trimmings (I forgot the gravy though...), and today I went for garlic chicken. I did cheat a little though, and buy the chicken pre-cooked from Tesco, but it was soooooo good. And I remembered the gravy. So, Brownie points all round. What exactly did people do with Brownie points anyway? Could you cash them in at the Brownie shop? Or are they as meaningful as the points on Whose Line Is It Anyway? I do wonder.
In the evening (after a rather manic Bushido lesson, where I learnt the Geri Waza, and also learnt how to turn around. No, seriously...) we headed to the local quiz. This is at the Kings Arms just up the road, and the last time we went, Andy and I picked up a cracking £40 for winning. I say winning, but half of the answers came from Google on my phone. This time we won again, but only £20 - split between 5 of us. It's all about picking the right envelope at the end. If only I had some x-ray specs, then I could cheat at that too. Note that I do not feel even slightly guilty about cheating to win this quiz. This is because everyone in the pub does it - some more blatantly than others. One woman sat no more than 10 feet away was bellowing one of the questions down the phone to her husband. Shame he didn't know the answer...
In the evening (after a rather manic Bushido lesson, where I learnt the Geri Waza, and also learnt how to turn around. No, seriously...) we headed to the local quiz. This is at the Kings Arms just up the road, and the last time we went, Andy and I picked up a cracking £40 for winning. I say winning, but half of the answers came from Google on my phone. This time we won again, but only £20 - split between 5 of us. It's all about picking the right envelope at the end. If only I had some x-ray specs, then I could cheat at that too. Note that I do not feel even slightly guilty about cheating to win this quiz. This is because everyone in the pub does it - some more blatantly than others. One woman sat no more than 10 feet away was bellowing one of the questions down the phone to her husband. Shame he didn't know the answer...
Sunday, May 29, 2005
Lost? I certainly am.
So, the build up to the Lost finale was all about a.) what is in the hatch and b.) whether the whole raft idea will work. This is what we found out:
a.) A big hole
b.) No.
As season finales go, I don't think I've seen one that actually made me swear at the screen before. It's so damn frustrating. I get the feeling that if J.J. isn't careful, he's going to end up with another version of The Prisoner, complete with people hurling abuse over the incredulity of the ending. Only, this is the 21st Century, so instead of the British public writing strongly-worded letters to the television broadcaster and Mr. McGoohan, someone will probably just pop a cap in J.J's ass. I guess that would be one way to escalate the show to cult status...although I maintain that it deserves that anyway, as it is easily one of the best character-driven shows I've seen Babylon 5.
Now we've got to wait until Autumn for the next series. In fact, the only thing worth starting soon worth watching is the 4400. It's going to be a lean summer.
a.) A big hole
b.) No.
As season finales go, I don't think I've seen one that actually made me swear at the screen before. It's so damn frustrating. I get the feeling that if J.J. isn't careful, he's going to end up with another version of The Prisoner, complete with people hurling abuse over the incredulity of the ending. Only, this is the 21st Century, so instead of the British public writing strongly-worded letters to the television broadcaster and Mr. McGoohan, someone will probably just pop a cap in J.J's ass. I guess that would be one way to escalate the show to cult status...although I maintain that it deserves that anyway, as it is easily one of the best character-driven shows I've seen Babylon 5.
Now we've got to wait until Autumn for the next series. In fact, the only thing worth starting soon worth watching is the 4400. It's going to be a lean summer.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)