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8 January 2012
Does anyone have any idea now what the UK law on Sunday trading protects - and how?
We have a regime, recently changed to allow shops to reopen on the chime of midnight as Sunday ends, where the larger shops (as defined by square footage, principally*) can only open for six hours continuously, starting no earlier than 10.00 a.m. and ending no later than 6.00 p.m.
(I am not aware of any obligation to open for the full six hours, so, if I am right, it would be possibly to be open just from 12.00 till 3.00.**)
Does that protect the workers, if they presumably can be in later than on other days for a start no earlier than 10.00, and give them the possibility of some lie-in? Is that at the heart of the legislation's thrust, though it doesn't protect workers in smaller, local shops (we know that names and brands), who still might have to start at 8.00, if not 6.00 (let alone the 24-hour petrol-stations)?
Or is it to protect the poor consumer / shopper from shopping him- or herself silly every day of the week...?
In any event, the premable of the enabling Act of Parliament (there are bound to be Regulations made under it), the Sunday Trading Act 1994, says (with great economy) relatively little:
An Act to reform the law of England and Wales relating to Sunday trading; to make provision as to the rights of shop workers under the law of England and Wales in relation to Sunday working; and for connected purposes.
Oh, I forgot, there is the protection for workers of being able to opt out (and not be penalized) of working on a Sunday - notices to be served, etc., and changing one's mind***. Which, of course, for someone who wants to devote him- or herself to the family and / or religious observance, is fine and good, but where do those other limitations on opening hours come from and fit in, not least 17 years on from 1994?
End-notes
* Thus: “large shop” means a shop which has a relevant floor area exceeding 280 square metres.
** Actually, that doesn't appear to have been envisaged, and is, at any rate, not possible (and might mean that someone failing to open for the full six hours could be taken to task, bizarre though that seems, for all that I know):
A person who is, or proposes to become, the occupier of a large shop may give notice to the local authority for the area in which the shop is situated—
(a) stating that he proposes to open the shop on Sunday for the serving of retail customers, and
(b) specifying a continuous period of six hours, beginning no earlier than 10 a.m. and ending no later than 6 p.m., as the permitted Sunday opening hours in relation to the shop.
*** Section 4 of the Act is, to say the least of it, terse: 'Schedule 4 to this Act shall have effect'.
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Saturday 7 January 2012
There is another Earth – and, wow, up there with Solaris! (terminal posting)
More views of - or after - Cambridge Film Festival 2011
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8 January
* Contains spoilers *
I must have been quite dim when I saw Another Earth. (We say 'He is bright', 'She's so dim', as if the intensity of a light is all that matters, when, of course - as any photographer or cinematographer will tell you - it has other qualities.) It's just that I was musing to myself why, when Rhoda was wandering around, largely at night, the other Earth that was being talked about on the night that she, by trying to look at it out of the window whilst driving, killed the wife and child of John Burroughs seems so improbably huge - if it appeared that big, it would either have to be enormous (and so not a mirror Earth) or very close, many times nearer than the moon (with which, maybe for technical reasons, it seemed to appear).
The less-dim may have realized the symbolic nature of its size, reflecting - almost in an expressionistic way - the depth of Rhoda's guilt. As I have said, the probable cannot be pressed too far with this film, or it would not have taken scientists four years (the term of Rhoda's prison sentence) to try communicating with the other planet. And, as John Burroughs asks, when he is arguing against not escaping from Plato's cave and knowing the truth, would its inhabitants be calling it Earth 2, as those on his were.
His initially unselfish response to learning that Rhoda has won the prize of a trip to Earth 2 is not what we expect, and, when he comes to appreciate that he doesn't want her to go, we have not expected her to tell him the truth about why she came there. (We know that she is a bright girl, who had a place to go to MIT before her foolish act (and which of us has not done foolish things in a car and got away with it?), and her quick-wittedness came out in thinking of the explanation that she had called to offer a free trial of a cleaning service, faced by the awfulness of telling John the truth - and then in claiming to come from Maid in Haven, which, of course, sounds almost like something else, the thing that maybe John comes to believe her to be.)
The final unselfish act - again, a complete surprise to me - was giving John her flight-ticket, and again I was being slow. (I've talked about Rhoda's quick-wittedness - what makes us turn extremes of a spectrum into pejorative terms?) I knew that she had given him a family photograph, and that she had told him that the latest theory was that Earth 2 became visible when its synchronicity with this planet broke, but I did not know then that the flight-ticket was also being given, or why John, with the views expressed before (which may have been an intellectual cover, of course, for his real feelings), would have wanted it.
I came to understand, as I meditated on the apparent hugeness of Earth 2, that, if the theory were right, then it might be that, on that otherwise hitherto identical planet, the accident hadn't happened, and John could see his family again (whatever the other John Burroughs might think).
Whether others 'got all of that' as the film played out, I don't know, but it has in no way spoilt it for me to have been reflecting on what I could not follow...
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8 January
* Contains spoilers *
I must have been quite dim when I saw Another Earth. (We say 'He is bright', 'She's so dim', as if the intensity of a light is all that matters, when, of course - as any photographer or cinematographer will tell you - it has other qualities.) It's just that I was musing to myself why, when Rhoda was wandering around, largely at night, the other Earth that was being talked about on the night that she, by trying to look at it out of the window whilst driving, killed the wife and child of John Burroughs seems so improbably huge - if it appeared that big, it would either have to be enormous (and so not a mirror Earth) or very close, many times nearer than the moon (with which, maybe for technical reasons, it seemed to appear).
The less-dim may have realized the symbolic nature of its size, reflecting - almost in an expressionistic way - the depth of Rhoda's guilt. As I have said, the probable cannot be pressed too far with this film, or it would not have taken scientists four years (the term of Rhoda's prison sentence) to try communicating with the other planet. And, as John Burroughs asks, when he is arguing against not escaping from Plato's cave and knowing the truth, would its inhabitants be calling it Earth 2, as those on his were.
His initially unselfish response to learning that Rhoda has won the prize of a trip to Earth 2 is not what we expect, and, when he comes to appreciate that he doesn't want her to go, we have not expected her to tell him the truth about why she came there. (We know that she is a bright girl, who had a place to go to MIT before her foolish act (and which of us has not done foolish things in a car and got away with it?), and her quick-wittedness came out in thinking of the explanation that she had called to offer a free trial of a cleaning service, faced by the awfulness of telling John the truth - and then in claiming to come from Maid in Haven, which, of course, sounds almost like something else, the thing that maybe John comes to believe her to be.)
The final unselfish act - again, a complete surprise to me - was giving John her flight-ticket, and again I was being slow. (I've talked about Rhoda's quick-wittedness - what makes us turn extremes of a spectrum into pejorative terms?) I knew that she had given him a family photograph, and that she had told him that the latest theory was that Earth 2 became visible when its synchronicity with this planet broke, but I did not know then that the flight-ticket was also being given, or why John, with the views expressed before (which may have been an intellectual cover, of course, for his real feelings), would have wanted it.
I came to understand, as I meditated on the apparent hugeness of Earth 2, that, if the theory were right, then it might be that, on that otherwise hitherto identical planet, the accident hadn't happened, and John could see his family again (whatever the other John Burroughs might think).
Whether others 'got all of that' as the film played out, I don't know, but it has in no way spoilt it for me to have been reflecting on what I could not follow...
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Page layout and baking
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7 January
No, not a view of the night sky, with supernovae, galaxies and complete with meteors, but an arrangement of twelve prawn bites, creatures that sacrificed their lives to be put in the oven for my delight (as it turned out, this purchase of discounted party food was inspired) - I was interested enough in the challenges presented in setting them out, if one didn't adopt the mundane approach of rows of each one, to record the result.
And then we have this, to-night's effort with the same task (no, the previous ones did get cooked and eaten, not just put back in the fridge to be humiliated again by more facile designs made using them):
From which one takes what? Well, someone might like to compare them, and perhaps even psychoanalyse me on the basis of the significance of the similarities (or differences) in carrying out the same exercise more than once.
For me, I take the grandiose line, and return to the night sky, with an analogy to mandalas, those Buddhist sand-paintings that first so intrigued me when I read about then...
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7 January
No, not a view of the night sky, with supernovae, galaxies and complete with meteors, but an arrangement of twelve prawn bites, creatures that sacrificed their lives to be put in the oven for my delight (as it turned out, this purchase of discounted party food was inspired) - I was interested enough in the challenges presented in setting them out, if one didn't adopt the mundane approach of rows of each one, to record the result.
And then we have this, to-night's effort with the same task (no, the previous ones did get cooked and eaten, not just put back in the fridge to be humiliated again by more facile designs made using them):
From which one takes what? Well, someone might like to compare them, and perhaps even psychoanalyse me on the basis of the significance of the similarities (or differences) in carrying out the same exercise more than once.
For me, I take the grandiose line, and return to the night sky, with an analogy to mandalas, those Buddhist sand-paintings that first so intrigued me when I read about then...
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Friday 6 January 2012
Crypt in Canterbury
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6 January
I quote from the Hoban 2005 web-site. Can anyone else spot the relational error?:
After viewing the painting, a service began in the main part of the cathedral, so the group was led downstairs to the crypt, where no photography is allowed.
A clue. It resembles the one in these lines from a song by Chris de Burgh:
Rolling through the countryside,
Tears were in my eyes.
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6 January
I quote from the Hoban 2005 web-site. Can anyone else spot the relational error?:
After viewing the painting, a service began in the main part of the cathedral, so the group was led downstairs to the crypt, where no photography is allowed.
A clue. It resembles the one in these lines from a song by Chris de Burgh:
Rolling through the countryside,
Tears were in my eyes.
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Vented ill-feeling and the Vento case
More views of - or after - Cambridge Film Festival 2011
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6 January
Whilst looking for related case-law to that of Vento v. Chief Constable of West Yorkshire Police [2002] EWCA Civ 1871*, I came across another that, though not relevant to what I wanted to know, is nonetheless intriguing, probably in a salacious way, for the allegations made in it.
I wasn't there, so I only know what the judge said (and judges tend to be a little staid, even if they do not sit in the High Court or higher courts), but here is an indication of what looking at the case, Mitton and others v. Benefield and another [2011] EWHC 2098 (QB), reveals (amongst other things - see for yourself):
* I consider it clear that he [Mr Wilding-Mitton] has become or allowed himself to become obsessed with his neighbours and prepared to identify as sinister the most ordinary of suburban activities.
* Mr Wilding-Mitton maintained in his evidence that he has consulted experts on both sides of the Atlantic to enable him to tell me that from the outset of their relationship Mr and Mrs Benefield, who should be classified as psychopaths, had a planned campaign to destroy Mr Wilding-Mitton and his family. He said that he thought the matter, which he described as the hounding of an innocent person, to be of national importance. He said that they, by which I understood him to mean his family, were trying to defend themselves in an impossible situation.
* He said that Mr Benefield was a platinum smirker who had a moronic stare. A consequence was, according to Mr Wilding-Mitton, that his daughter, who in the witness box appeared an amiable teenager, had been subject to psychological rape or molestation. Nothing she said in her evidence came remotely close to that kind of categorisation. He maintained that Mr Benefield was a psychopathic narcissist and that Mrs Benefield had a psychotic disorder.
Read on, if you dare, at www.bailii.org ...
* A general Internet search, based on the name 'Vento' and trying to find a synopsis of what it established concerning awards for injury to feelings in discrimination cases, proved null, so I consulted a specialist legal database, www.bailii.org, not to be mistaken for what superficially pretends to be it at www.bailii.org.uk.
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6 January
Whilst looking for related case-law to that of Vento v. Chief Constable of West Yorkshire Police [2002] EWCA Civ 1871*, I came across another that, though not relevant to what I wanted to know, is nonetheless intriguing, probably in a salacious way, for the allegations made in it.
I wasn't there, so I only know what the judge said (and judges tend to be a little staid, even if they do not sit in the High Court or higher courts), but here is an indication of what looking at the case, Mitton and others v. Benefield and another [2011] EWHC 2098 (QB), reveals (amongst other things - see for yourself):
* I consider it clear that he [Mr Wilding-Mitton] has become or allowed himself to become obsessed with his neighbours and prepared to identify as sinister the most ordinary of suburban activities.
* Mr Wilding-Mitton maintained in his evidence that he has consulted experts on both sides of the Atlantic to enable him to tell me that from the outset of their relationship Mr and Mrs Benefield, who should be classified as psychopaths, had a planned campaign to destroy Mr Wilding-Mitton and his family. He said that he thought the matter, which he described as the hounding of an innocent person, to be of national importance. He said that they, by which I understood him to mean his family, were trying to defend themselves in an impossible situation.
* He said that Mr Benefield was a platinum smirker who had a moronic stare. A consequence was, according to Mr Wilding-Mitton, that his daughter, who in the witness box appeared an amiable teenager, had been subject to psychological rape or molestation. Nothing she said in her evidence came remotely close to that kind of categorisation. He maintained that Mr Benefield was a psychopathic narcissist and that Mrs Benefield had a psychotic disorder.
Read on, if you dare, at www.bailii.org ...
* A general Internet search, based on the name 'Vento' and trying to find a synopsis of what it established concerning awards for injury to feelings in discrimination cases, proved null, so I consulted a specialist legal database, www.bailii.org, not to be mistaken for what superficially pretends to be it at www.bailii.org.uk.
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Thursday 5 January 2012
The real Diva
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6 January
In the film Diva (1980), it may be possible to argue that there is more than one diva, and that Paris itself is the other.
Leaving that aside, we have Cynthia Hawkins, a black American soprano (played by Wilhemenia [sometimes with a Wiggins] Fernandez), who seems to be living in Paris, but - although full marks for effort - whose French must have been a strain on the ears of the first audience: if that isn't just put on, why this choice of character, not necessarily actress, for the role?
Well, she does have a childlike trust and belief, and that quality is both important to the film and comes across very clearly, and it is probably quite relevant that she is the glamorous star from another country, albeit doing her best with her French. (It's said that Jessye Norman was in mind when the part was created (not to play it), although I do not know in what way.)
Her feeling about herself, about not wanting to be recorded or held to ransom because of a recording, is the thing that comes to the fore: with Jules, she is amazingly open and also forgiving, since he not only takes her dress, but the recording that helps create the film's kerfuffle, and he is not always the most direct about what he is doing.
So that, that quality, is what I guess makes Cynthia singing from La Wally, which she does splendidly, the diva in Diva: her naive belief, and following her instincts.
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6 January
In the film Diva (1980), it may be possible to argue that there is more than one diva, and that Paris itself is the other.
Leaving that aside, we have Cynthia Hawkins, a black American soprano (played by Wilhemenia [sometimes with a Wiggins] Fernandez), who seems to be living in Paris, but - although full marks for effort - whose French must have been a strain on the ears of the first audience: if that isn't just put on, why this choice of character, not necessarily actress, for the role?
Well, she does have a childlike trust and belief, and that quality is both important to the film and comes across very clearly, and it is probably quite relevant that she is the glamorous star from another country, albeit doing her best with her French. (It's said that Jessye Norman was in mind when the part was created (not to play it), although I do not know in what way.)
Her feeling about herself, about not wanting to be recorded or held to ransom because of a recording, is the thing that comes to the fore: with Jules, she is amazingly open and also forgiving, since he not only takes her dress, but the recording that helps create the film's kerfuffle, and he is not always the most direct about what he is doing.
So that, that quality, is what I guess makes Cynthia singing from La Wally, which she does splendidly, the diva in Diva: her naive belief, and following her instincts.
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Early Woody and Mere Anarchy (3)
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6 January
I am beginning to realize that the theme of Fool's Gold seems to link almost everything in this collection:
* A man offered levitation and special powers by crooks
* An actor who doesn't know his own status, duped into taking a poor part in a film
* The 2.6-pound white truffle that everyone wants is a fake
* The director who so believes his yes-men that he tries to film the LA phone-book
* The unwise purchaser of a property and hirer of the men to work on it
* The songwriter in analysis who is supposed to be the next Irving Berlin and pays his therapist with songs
* What to the witless might sound like a brilliant idea for working up the interrelated lives of Gustav and Alma Mahler into a musical drama
Those are just the ones whose themes I can recall, and only the one about the father whose son goes to 'film camp' and has the proprietor of the camp and him raging back and forth in correspondence breaks the pattern - even there, though, the $16m distribution rights seem fine until someone else is interested in a share...
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6 January
I am beginning to realize that the theme of Fool's Gold seems to link almost everything in this collection:
* A man offered levitation and special powers by crooks
* An actor who doesn't know his own status, duped into taking a poor part in a film
* The 2.6-pound white truffle that everyone wants is a fake
* The director who so believes his yes-men that he tries to film the LA phone-book
* The unwise purchaser of a property and hirer of the men to work on it
* The songwriter in analysis who is supposed to be the next Irving Berlin and pays his therapist with songs
* What to the witless might sound like a brilliant idea for working up the interrelated lives of Gustav and Alma Mahler into a musical drama
Those are just the ones whose themes I can recall, and only the one about the father whose son goes to 'film camp' and has the proprietor of the camp and him raging back and forth in correspondence breaks the pattern - even there, though, the $16m distribution rights seem fine until someone else is interested in a share...
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Early Woody and Mere Anarchy (2)
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5 January
I had wrongly thought that something appearing in The New Yorker might be a mark of quality.
However, the credits tell me which have previously been published there, and they are not the best: one is just demonstrating how to set out a screenplay (which Allen, of course, can do), but with few laughs; another, a ludicrous idea for a show, which, if the narrator had employed the little sense that he had, he would never have bought an expensive lunch to hear about; a third, a tiring story, loosely tied in with Dante's Inferno, about a very ill-advised choice of building and builder.
Doesn't exactly inspire one to read on (although, for completeness and despite what often seems to me to be lazy writing, I will), and the quality of the presentation of the text leaves a lot to be desires - I know that people no longer know what orphans and widows are, so cannot care about them, but for the last line of a page to end like this shocks me:
; fi-
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5 January
I had wrongly thought that something appearing in The New Yorker might be a mark of quality.
However, the credits tell me which have previously been published there, and they are not the best: one is just demonstrating how to set out a screenplay (which Allen, of course, can do), but with few laughs; another, a ludicrous idea for a show, which, if the narrator had employed the little sense that he had, he would never have bought an expensive lunch to hear about; a third, a tiring story, loosely tied in with Dante's Inferno, about a very ill-advised choice of building and builder.
Doesn't exactly inspire one to read on (although, for completeness and despite what often seems to me to be lazy writing, I will), and the quality of the presentation of the text leaves a lot to be desires - I know that people no longer know what orphans and widows are, so cannot care about them, but for the last line of a page to end like this shocks me:
; fi-
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Thursday 29 December 2011
180 years since Charles Dickens sneezed publicly in Cardiff - to great acclaim
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30 December
No, it's the 200th anniversary of birth or death*, as usual, and, since we never know which, we don't know what we are celebrating (and, to me, it seems inapt to celebrate the years since someone's death).
That said, if claims are to be made for Dickens, let them establish something that he would have thought worthwhile. And yet, on The Verb a few weeks back, Kevin Jackson told us that Dickens had innovated with the names of his characters, and with the supposed advantage over the big Russian novel (where, of course, we are willingly familiar with the tripartite system of naming, and cannot confess not even to trying!) that one could easily keep track of someone in, say, Bleak House because of the choice of name:
Well, as much as a name that I recognize in Dostoyevsky may recur and I recognize it by its shape, so names in that Dickens novel will be more easily identifiable and probably memorable, but it is a far cry from asserting that, on that account, I know what function that person performs in the novel. No, as with the less major characters in any novel, one sometimes has to look back to see who they are, and there the Russian novel anticipates the need with a Dramatis personæ.
Memorable names (and whether they are memorable just because quirky remains a separate, and unexamined issue - who can forget Tom Jones?) in a longer work do not, I believe, necessarily guide me as to who that person is in relation to everyone else, not least when (again in Bleak House) Dickens deliberately rattles on about the presumed oil-wells of the Reverend Chadband's countenance, or the perpetual need for a cushion to be readjusted, in such a way as to sabotage the progress of his own novel and distract our concentration.
Although, in Wemmick, for example, Dickens chose a very fitting name for its bearer, it is because I see him linked to his castle that I remember him for who he is, not because of the name per se.
At any rate, in a fanciful desire to laud Dickens for this above all else, the contributor to the programme dismissed, as their novels not containing comparably witty or descriptive names, both Tobias Smollett (1721-1771) and Henry Fielding (1707-1754). This, without giving a single example, whereas the eponymous heroes alone of the former's Ferdinand Count Fathom and Roderick Random make demands on our attention. As for Fielding, Mrs Tow-wouse in Joseph Andrews is foremost in my memory, but the novel's pages are peppered with Tom Suckbribe, Jenny Bouncer, Sir Thomas Booby, Mrs Slipslop, Peter Pounce, etc.
If Dickens excels, without the endeavours of other writers at least a century before Dickens even being considered, such as Laurence Sterne (1713-1768), but only Shakespeare (who was only credited with Aguecheek and Belch, because he allegedly took all of his names from his sources), then so be it, but why give Dickens a crown that he doesn't exclusively deserve, and which does not even typify the best things about him?
(In fact, anyone who has heard of William's contemporary Ben Jonson, or who ever took a look at The Alchemist, would find it hard to understand what the fuss about names in Dickens is...)
Since posting the above, and in looking vainly for somewhere on Radio 3's web-site to leave a comment, I've now found the following work, a slim volume published in 1917 by Elizabeth Hope Gordon:
The Naming of Characters in the Works of Charles Dickens
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30 December
No, it's the 200th anniversary of birth or death*, as usual, and, since we never know which, we don't know what we are celebrating (and, to me, it seems inapt to celebrate the years since someone's death).
That said, if claims are to be made for Dickens, let them establish something that he would have thought worthwhile. And yet, on The Verb a few weeks back, Kevin Jackson told us that Dickens had innovated with the names of his characters, and with the supposed advantage over the big Russian novel (where, of course, we are willingly familiar with the tripartite system of naming, and cannot confess not even to trying!) that one could easily keep track of someone in, say, Bleak House because of the choice of name:
Well, as much as a name that I recognize in Dostoyevsky may recur and I recognize it by its shape, so names in that Dickens novel will be more easily identifiable and probably memorable, but it is a far cry from asserting that, on that account, I know what function that person performs in the novel. No, as with the less major characters in any novel, one sometimes has to look back to see who they are, and there the Russian novel anticipates the need with a Dramatis personæ.
Memorable names (and whether they are memorable just because quirky remains a separate, and unexamined issue - who can forget Tom Jones?) in a longer work do not, I believe, necessarily guide me as to who that person is in relation to everyone else, not least when (again in Bleak House) Dickens deliberately rattles on about the presumed oil-wells of the Reverend Chadband's countenance, or the perpetual need for a cushion to be readjusted, in such a way as to sabotage the progress of his own novel and distract our concentration.
Although, in
At any rate, in a fanciful desire to laud Dickens for this above all else, the contributor to the programme dismissed, as their
If Dickens excels, without the endeavours of other writers at least a century before Dickens even being considered, such as Laurence Sterne (1713-1768), but only Shakespeare (who was only credited with Aguecheek and Belch, because he allegedly took all of his names from his sources), then so be it, but why give Dickens a crown that he doesn't exclusively deserve, and which does not even typify the best things about him?
(In fact, anyone who has heard of William's contemporary Ben Jonson, or who ever took a look at The Alchemist, would find it hard to understand what the fuss about names in Dickens is...)
Since posting the above, and in looking vainly for somewhere on Radio 3's web-site to leave a comment, I've now found the following work, a slim volume published in 1917 by Elizabeth Hope Gordon:
The Naming of Characters in the Works of Charles Dickens
Wednesday 28 December 2011
Food cats
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28 December
Yes, you'll be thinking as I do, all cats are 'food cats':
Food cats would naturally choose - yes, what would food cats choose?
Well, apparently it is revolutionary thinking to 'believe that cats know what they like when it comes to food', so maybe the makers of this food don't have a cat, and someone who does had to tell them.
Then they seem to want to know what I think of their food. OK, we know that some people stocking up with tins of dog-food are buying a cheap meal for themselves, but what is this all about?:
Why not try one of our other W***** varieties?
or
Have you tried W****** DRY?
The text below seeks to exonerate these questions, by stating that their meals contain 'succulent pieces of meat and fish to vary your cat's diet', but I'm sure that they think that I must have just a little taste before I serve it...
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28 December
Yes, you'll be thinking as I do, all cats are 'food cats':
Food cats would naturally choose - yes, what would food cats choose?
Well, apparently it is revolutionary thinking to 'believe that cats know what they like when it comes to food', so maybe the makers of this food don't have a cat, and someone who does had to tell them.
Then they seem to want to know what I think of their food. OK, we know that some people stocking up with tins of dog-food are buying a cheap meal for themselves, but what is this all about?:
Why not try one of our other W***** varieties?
or
Have you tried W****** DRY?
The text below seeks to exonerate these questions, by stating that their meals contain 'succulent pieces of meat and fish to vary your cat's diet', but I'm sure that they think that I must have just a little taste before I serve it...
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Saturday 24 December 2011
The good man Philip and the railway service Pullman
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Christmas Day
Whatever one thinks of Philip P., if one has read any of his work*, the one whose title I'm parodying was not the snappiest, and more resembled the label of a Ronseal® tin in terms of subtlety.
For those not in the know generally, it appears that Mr Pullman has some issue with religion (maybe even Christianity as a formalized faith), and calling a book The good man Jesus and the scoundrel Christ is only a little less of a battle-cry than much of what Richard Dawkins naggingly wants to assert every waking minute of his life.
(Culturally or racially intolerant people want to bleat on about mosques, minarets and muezzins, but Dawkins is a foghorn in his own right, together with a blindingly white tower in one's view and a powerful light that he keeps shining in one's eyes.)
I can just imagine Alison Weir subtitling an account of Anne Boleyn's courtship and marriage The chaste, monogamous, home-loving king and his slatternly, unfaithful bitch of a wife - maybe she should try, if in need of boosting her sales: what about writing history for the masses in headlines worthy of defunct News of the World? (A sort of Horrible Histories of popular events, but for a different age-group.)
Anyway, back at PP: he's been awarded an honorary doctorate by the University of the Moon, but the catch is that he has to go to collect it! (Presumably some bright spark's wheeze for keeping him out of the way for a while.)
Though that trick wouldn't work with RD, maybe, since he wrote The God Delusion, someone should write (something like) Dawkins: The Delusion of Anyone Giving a Frig - or God himself could prove that RD doesn't exist by dropping a huge tome on him called The Dawkins Delusion, a self-fulfilling title...
* Someone whom I know was so afraid, when reading the Dark Materials trilogy, that - and I quote - 'I would die before I got to the end' that he bunked off his lecturing job to make sure that the latter was completed before the former happened (although, for why it should have done, you'd have to ask him...).
If you want to Tweet, Tweet away here
(Click here to go directly to the Festival web-site)
Christmas Day
Whatever one thinks of Philip P., if one has read any of his work*, the one whose title I'm parodying was not the snappiest, and more resembled the label of a Ronseal® tin in terms of subtlety.
For those not in the know generally, it appears that Mr Pullman has some issue with religion (maybe even Christianity as a formalized faith), and calling a book The good man Jesus and the scoundrel Christ is only a little less of a battle-cry than much of what Richard Dawkins naggingly wants to assert every waking minute of his life.
(Culturally or racially intolerant people want to bleat on about mosques, minarets and muezzins, but Dawkins is a foghorn in his own right, together with a blindingly white tower in one's view and a powerful light that he keeps shining in one's eyes.)
I can just imagine Alison Weir subtitling an account of Anne Boleyn's courtship and marriage The chaste, monogamous, home-loving king and his slatternly, unfaithful bitch of a wife - maybe she should try, if in need of boosting her sales: what about writing history for the masses in headlines worthy of defunct News of the World? (A sort of Horrible Histories of popular events, but for a different age-group.)
Anyway, back at PP: he's been awarded an honorary doctorate by the University of the Moon, but the catch is that he has to go to collect it! (Presumably some bright spark's wheeze for keeping him out of the way for a while.)
Though that trick wouldn't work with RD, maybe, since he wrote The God Delusion, someone should write (something like) Dawkins: The Delusion of Anyone Giving a Frig - or God himself could prove that RD doesn't exist by dropping a huge tome on him called The Dawkins Delusion, a self-fulfilling title...
* Someone whom I know was so afraid, when reading the Dark Materials trilogy, that - and I quote - 'I would die before I got to the end' that he bunked off his lecturing job to make sure that the latter was completed before the former happened (although, for why it should have done, you'd have to ask him...).
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Has Will Smith been flyposting again?!
More views of - or after - Cambridge Film Festival 2011
(Click here to go directly to the Festival web-site)
Christmas Day
From a street in Cambridge:
IAMN
OTAR
OBOT
the lamp-post declared.
Never said that you were! I retorted.
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Christmas Day
From a street in Cambridge:
IAMN
OTAR
OBOT
the lamp-post declared.
Never said that you were! I retorted.
If you want to Tweet, Tweet away here
The woman who wrote about pandas
More views of - or after - Cambridge Film Festival 2011
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Christmas Eve
Yes, I'm sure that Ms Truss' book did well enough, but, with 'Pandamania' upon us*, what if she'd waited...! (Perhaps those led astray by the cover may still be interested.)
But why would anyone punctuate (think of punctuating?!) a sentence about pandas eating shoots - which we now know are so costly (a bit like buying a chinchilla, and then finding that the only thing that it will eat costs as much as (maybe a cheap) caviar!) - by putting a comma slap bang in the middle of They eat shoots and leaves, or whatever exactly it was**?
Really, one would have to subscribe to the 'theory of punctuation' that says:
(1) Never use the semi-colon - no one else does, and no one understands where it belongs, which may be cause and effect, or vice versa (if not a symbiotic feedback-loop);
(2) The colon is good (as above) once in a while, just to bring you up short, saying 'Something important (probably) follows!';
(3) NB Ignore the semi-colons in this list, but, for advanced students, that's the only way to employ them. If still tempted, stick in a dash instead (much safer!);
(4) Blather on until you've had enough with that sentence. Then, at least, a full-stop, if not, which is worth considering, a new paragraph;
(5) Finally, just to show who's boss, stick a comma in from time to time to impress - if they are in the wrong place (wherever that is), no one will know, and they are as likely to think that you've done something clever that they don't understand as stuck it where it doesn't fit;
(6) If needing to talk about more than one comma, comma's or commas are both fine***.
Not very convincing, but maybe that's Modern English. (About as tenuous as turning, by mistake, the description You wiggle! into the imperative You, wiggle!?)
* Or, if you prefer, Pandamonium...
** Ah, yes! It was some alleged dictionary or encyclopaedia, saying The panda eats, shoots and leaves.
It could just as easily have said The panda, eats shoots and, leaves, only no 'humorous' story about it dining in a restaurant would ensue, just apoplexy.
*** No one understands the apostrophe (or plurals) any longer, so you can do what you like:
Potato's (meaning 'Potatoes');
Paninis (pluralizing an already plural word);
Premia or stadia (when adding an 's' to 'premium' / 'stadium' is much more natural, as these words are not Latin, but naturalized English) -
Whatever you like, dear student! (Sorry, that should be Whatever, you like, dear student!, or even Whatever you, like dear student!.)
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Christmas Eve
Yes, I'm sure that Ms Truss' book did well enough, but, with 'Pandamania' upon us*, what if she'd waited...! (Perhaps those led astray by the cover may still be interested.)
But why would anyone punctuate (think of punctuating?!) a sentence about pandas eating shoots - which we now know are so costly (a bit like buying a chinchilla, and then finding that the only thing that it will eat costs as much as (maybe a cheap) caviar!) - by putting a comma slap bang in the middle of They eat shoots and leaves, or whatever exactly it was**?
Really, one would have to subscribe to the 'theory of punctuation' that says:
(1) Never use the semi-colon - no one else does, and no one understands where it belongs, which may be cause and effect, or vice versa (if not a symbiotic feedback-loop);
(2) The colon is good (as above) once in a while, just to bring you up short, saying 'Something important (probably) follows!';
(3) NB Ignore the semi-colons in this list, but, for advanced students, that's the only way to employ them. If still tempted, stick in a dash instead (much safer!);
(4) Blather on until you've had enough with that sentence. Then, at least, a full-stop, if not, which is worth considering, a new paragraph;
(5) Finally, just to show who's boss, stick a comma in from time to time to impress - if they are in the wrong place (wherever that is), no one will know, and they are as likely to think that you've done something clever that they don't understand as stuck it where it doesn't fit;
(6) If needing to talk about more than one comma, comma's or commas are both fine***.
Not very convincing, but maybe that's Modern English. (About as tenuous as turning, by mistake, the description You wiggle! into the imperative You, wiggle!?)
* Or, if you prefer, Pandamonium...
** Ah, yes! It was some alleged dictionary or encyclopaedia, saying The panda eats, shoots and leaves.
It could just as easily have said The panda, eats shoots and, leaves, only no 'humorous' story about it dining in a restaurant would ensue, just apoplexy.
*** No one understands the apostrophe (or plurals) any longer, so you can do what you like:
Potato's (meaning 'Potatoes');
Paninis (pluralizing an already plural word);
Premia or stadia (when adding an 's' to 'premium' / 'stadium' is much more natural, as these words are not Latin, but naturalized English) -
Whatever you like, dear student! (Sorry, that should be Whatever, you like, dear student!, or even Whatever you, like dear student!.)
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Friday 23 December 2011
Mind charity shops and NAMH
More views of - or after - Cambridge Film Festival 2011
(Click here to go directly to the Festival web-site)
23 December 2011 (updated 2 February 2013, 11 January 2015)
Seeing Paul Farmer's Tweet, I gave him the opportunity to comment. He did not do so (until 11 months later, when asked again...).
You will know the national charity Mind (it sometimes claims to be the leading UK mental-health charity, but Rethink and the Mental Health Foundation may not agree).
Some places where people live have a local Mind charity shop: the common misconception (which, for all that I know, some obscure notice on the premises may allegedly clarify, if you knew that it is there) is that giving items to or otherwise supporting the shop supports people locally who have mental-health issues (rather than Mind itself, the national body).
Some people also assume that 'Mind' means something, and write it 'MIND', as if it were an acronym, but it is actually just a trading-name that stuck to and was kept by what is really the National Association for Mental Health (or NAMH).
So, to summarize, Mind is really NAMH, and Mind charity shops don't support the Mind named after your area, e.g. West Norfolk Mind (if there is one and you lived there).
Now, other charities, say Red Cross, may be set up the same way - I don't know - but, in Mind's case, it's just several assumptions that it would be easy enough to prevent people making, if it mattered enough to stop them.
Now one wild, further, improbable step: imagine East Cambridge Mind (there isn't one, but let's call it ECM) providing services in the voluntary sector, receiving grants and funding, etc. They might offer somewhere where, using Mind's favoured terms, those with a personal experience of 'mental distress' can come for a coffee at certain times of the week.
Or there might be free counselling, or the artificial buddying known as befriending, where a volunteer commits to meet with a member of ECM every so often to allow social things like going for a walk or having a drink (maybe one then the other) that might seem harder to do on one's own. Services, anyway, that need staff and volunteers.
Mind doesn't employ the staff or manage the volunteers, because Mind (as NAMH) is a separate company. ECM is another. Mind lets ECM use the Mind name by agreeing to let it subscribe to be a Local Mind Association (or LMA).
OK, so Mind where you live will be a company (usually limited by guarantee) registered at Companies House. NAMH is another one, so they are separate, except for NAMH letting ECM have Mind in its name.
ECM subscribes (pays a subscription, amongst other things) to do that, but it remains separate. Two companies, never the twain shall meet, although national Mind does require these LMAs (such as ECM) to meet quality standards. The assessment, though, is largely on the basis of self-certification.
So to establish that, say, ECM supervises its staff regularly (maybe monthly) for that quality standard, what Mind actually does is to get ECM to fill in a series of forms that state how, where and when supervision takes place and is recorded. For example, ECM sets out how the manager meets the employee or volunteer every x weeks, spends at least y hours with him or her without interruption, and makes sure that z specified issues are discussed every time.
No other check is made - it may not happen at all, or, at least as often or as well as certified. As far as Mind is concerned, ECM is meeting the quality standard, just because it says that it is meeting the quality standard. That's fine, of course.
Or might you be saying this?:
Isn't ECM employing or having as volunteers people who work with vulnerable people, some of whom may be vulnerable people themselves, seeking 'to give something back'?
That's true.
OK, so aren't there at least three people's interests to protect?
(a) The person receiving a service through ECM;
(b) The person giving a service on behalf of ECM;
(c) The other staff / volunteers of ECM?
Yes, that's right.
And, in fact, isn't there a fourth (maybe a fifth) set of interests?
(d) The carers / relatives / friends of the person receiving a service (or those who otherwise come into contact with the staff and volunteers of ECM)?
You're still right, and some of those are the ones who are not disabused as to what they are supporting with Mind charity shops, too.
So, if something goes wrong, if a volunteer or an employee (or all of them) is not being supervised, and Mind is just being told that they are, it will want to know and will take action?
No, Mind just believes what it's told - it actually has no mechanism for an employee to go to it and complain of not being supervised, because it will just direct him or her back to ECM. ECM is a company, Mind is a company (NAMH), and, despite ECM subscribing to Mind, Mind says that it has no control over ECM.
It remains an internal matter to resolve with ECM, even if the staff member or volunteer is vulnerable because of mental distress, and is less well placed to challenge ECM's company approach or adherence to quality standards or its procedures. Mind will not help or get involved - the aggrieved person, who is not being supervised properly and / or regularly, must raise a grievance.
But that's OK, isn't it? It fits with the slogan (it's for For better mental health, isn't it?), and is just the model of governance you expect from the Mind name.
Good, knew you'd be happy - merry Christmas!
If you want to Tweet, Tweet away here
(Click here to go directly to the Festival web-site)
23 December 2011 (updated 2 February 2013, 11 January 2015)
A good day for some early spring cleaning and take stuff to your local Mind shop.
— Paul Farmer (@paulfarmermind) February 2, 2013
But does one's 'local Mind shop',@paulfarmermind, raise funds that are spent *locally*, on services where one lives ?
— THE AGENT APSLEY (@THEAGENTAPSLEY) February 2, 2013
Seeing Paul Farmer's Tweet, I gave him the opportunity to comment. He did not do so (until 11 months later, when asked again...).
@THEAGENTAPSLEY @MindCharity around £400,000 per year goes to local Minds in grants from the profits generated by our shops.
— Paul Farmer (@paulfarmermind) January 11, 2015You will know the national charity Mind (it sometimes claims to be the leading UK mental-health charity, but Rethink and the Mental Health Foundation may not agree).
Some places where people live have a local Mind charity shop: the common misconception (which, for all that I know, some obscure notice on the premises may allegedly clarify, if you knew that it is there) is that giving items to or otherwise supporting the shop supports people locally who have mental-health issues (rather than Mind itself, the national body).
Some people also assume that 'Mind' means something, and write it 'MIND', as if it were an acronym, but it is actually just a trading-name that stuck to and was kept by what is really the National Association for Mental Health (or NAMH).
So, to summarize, Mind is really NAMH, and Mind charity shops don't support the Mind named after your area, e.g. West Norfolk Mind (if there is one and you lived there).
Now, other charities, say Red Cross, may be set up the same way - I don't know - but, in Mind's case, it's just several assumptions that it would be easy enough to prevent people making, if it mattered enough to stop them.
Now one wild, further, improbable step: imagine East Cambridge Mind (there isn't one, but let's call it ECM) providing services in the voluntary sector, receiving grants and funding, etc. They might offer somewhere where, using Mind's favoured terms, those with a personal experience of 'mental distress' can come for a coffee at certain times of the week.
Or there might be free counselling, or the artificial buddying known as befriending, where a volunteer commits to meet with a member of ECM every so often to allow social things like going for a walk or having a drink (maybe one then the other) that might seem harder to do on one's own. Services, anyway, that need staff and volunteers.
Mind doesn't employ the staff or manage the volunteers, because Mind (as NAMH) is a separate company. ECM is another. Mind lets ECM use the Mind name by agreeing to let it subscribe to be a Local Mind Association (or LMA).
OK, so Mind where you live will be a company (usually limited by guarantee) registered at Companies House. NAMH is another one, so they are separate, except for NAMH letting ECM have Mind in its name.
ECM subscribes (pays a subscription, amongst other things) to do that, but it remains separate. Two companies, never the twain shall meet, although national Mind does require these LMAs (such as ECM) to meet quality standards. The assessment, though, is largely on the basis of self-certification.
So to establish that, say, ECM supervises its staff regularly (maybe monthly) for that quality standard, what Mind actually does is to get ECM to fill in a series of forms that state how, where and when supervision takes place and is recorded. For example, ECM sets out how the manager meets the employee or volunteer every x weeks, spends at least y hours with him or her without interruption, and makes sure that z specified issues are discussed every time.
No other check is made - it may not happen at all, or, at least as often or as well as certified. As far as Mind is concerned, ECM is meeting the quality standard, just because it says that it is meeting the quality standard. That's fine, of course.
Or might you be saying this?:
Isn't ECM employing or having as volunteers people who work with vulnerable people, some of whom may be vulnerable people themselves, seeking 'to give something back'?
That's true.
OK, so aren't there at least three people's interests to protect?
(a) The person receiving a service through ECM;
(b) The person giving a service on behalf of ECM;
(c) The other staff / volunteers of ECM?
Yes, that's right.
And, in fact, isn't there a fourth (maybe a fifth) set of interests?
(d) The carers / relatives / friends of the person receiving a service (or those who otherwise come into contact with the staff and volunteers of ECM)?
You're still right, and some of those are the ones who are not disabused as to what they are supporting with Mind charity shops, too.
So, if something goes wrong, if a volunteer or an employee (or all of them) is not being supervised, and Mind is just being told that they are, it will want to know and will take action?
No, Mind just believes what it's told - it actually has no mechanism for an employee to go to it and complain of not being supervised, because it will just direct him or her back to ECM. ECM is a company, Mind is a company (NAMH), and, despite ECM subscribing to Mind, Mind says that it has no control over ECM.
It remains an internal matter to resolve with ECM, even if the staff member or volunteer is vulnerable because of mental distress, and is less well placed to challenge ECM's company approach or adherence to quality standards or its procedures. Mind will not help or get involved - the aggrieved person, who is not being supervised properly and / or regularly, must raise a grievance.
But that's OK, isn't it? It fits with the slogan (it's for For better mental health, isn't it?), and is just the model of governance you expect from the Mind name.
Good, knew you'd be happy - merry Christmas!
If you want to Tweet, Tweet away here
The habit of collecting (3)
More views of - or after - Cambridge Film Festival 2011
(Click here to go directly to the Festival web-site)
23 December
Well, an evening of interesting prospects:
Gerry Hawkins offers me to Discover the secrets of sex with our pills
However, Gerry's gender is unclear, so it may be germane to find out, if the invitation is to discover the secrets with her / him (rather than just swallow the tablets made of talcum powder and rat poison)...
Also, as such pitches are usually offering penis enlargement, what's secret about that, I have to ask? In fact, the well-endowed males report a problem accommodating their flexible friend neatly when it becomes firmer and thus more noticeable, so no secret there.
But, of course, the secret has to be what one can do, which one couldn't before, with the supposedly available super-member, and then the usual thing is make a more open claim about length or girth. Well, maybe increasing one dimension of the relevant organ might be a better pay-off than the other, as the receiving part is not infinitely deep, and I have been told (although it could, of course, have been reassurance) that it could be quite uncomfortable to have that much penetration...
Back at my e-mail, Molly Justice (my cat is called Molly, so perhaps she's starting Internet protests at my care of her!) wants to promote something more novel: Yelling with toothache, here is the way out!
Sure, one might be being invited to make a one-way trip to a Swiss clinic, but there are worse things than NHS dentists (non-NHS dentists, for one, as the bill can give more pain than any tooth)!
In any case, with the Christmas post, how am I supposed to get any remedy, even if it were genuine and were genuinely to be sent to me? But I suppose there's Special Delivery or some equivalent form of courier, and some might be so avoidant of dentistry and keen for a solution that they would subscribe.
I shall look out for others in the same business, having just read a Woody Allen piece about a bureau that puts prayers on eBay for the highest bidder, and which seems apt (more about that it in the Woody strand of postings about Mere Anarchy)...
If you want to Tweet, Tweet away here
(Click here to go directly to the Festival web-site)
23 December
Well, an evening of interesting prospects:
Gerry Hawkins offers me to Discover the secrets of sex with our pills
However, Gerry's gender is unclear, so it may be germane to find out, if the invitation is to discover the secrets with her / him (rather than just swallow the tablets made of talcum powder and rat poison)...
Also, as such pitches are usually offering penis enlargement, what's secret about that, I have to ask? In fact, the well-endowed males report a problem accommodating their flexible friend neatly when it becomes firmer and thus more noticeable, so no secret there.
But, of course, the secret has to be what one can do, which one couldn't before, with the supposedly available super-member, and then the usual thing is make a more open claim about length or girth. Well, maybe increasing one dimension of the relevant organ might be a better pay-off than the other, as the receiving part is not infinitely deep, and I have been told (although it could, of course, have been reassurance) that it could be quite uncomfortable to have that much penetration...
Back at my e-mail, Molly Justice (my cat is called Molly, so perhaps she's starting Internet protests at my care of her!) wants to promote something more novel: Yelling with toothache, here is the way out!
Sure, one might be being invited to make a one-way trip to a Swiss clinic, but there are worse things than NHS dentists (non-NHS dentists, for one, as the bill can give more pain than any tooth)!
In any case, with the Christmas post, how am I supposed to get any remedy, even if it were genuine and were genuinely to be sent to me? But I suppose there's Special Delivery or some equivalent form of courier, and some might be so avoidant of dentistry and keen for a solution that they would subscribe.
I shall look out for others in the same business, having just read a Woody Allen piece about a bureau that puts prayers on eBay for the highest bidder, and which seems apt (more about that it in the Woody strand of postings about Mere Anarchy)...
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Thursday 22 December 2011
Tyrannosaur and Another Earth
More views of - or after - Cambridge Film Festival 2011
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23 December
* Contains spoilers *
Both hailed at Sundance, but how Paddy Considine's direction won a best award is beyond me, whereas Brit Marling / Mike Cahill's film did deserve all that it got (and probably more):
Did Tyrannosaur tell a story? Yes.
Was it pretty much a linear narrative? Yes.
Was the story shocking or innovative? Well, a man kicking his canine best friend to death because angry at someone else did jolt, but it just set the tone, only slightly offset as a stereotype by Joseph's (Peter Mullan's) being someone who can give a fuck (sometimes).
What was innovative about the direction? Yes, what was innovative about the direction?
In interview at Cambridge Film Festival, Considine was clear that: his script was the script; he is on the Autistic spectrum; and there was no role play / improvisation in sight.
For my money, he wrote a decent enough script, given what he wanted to tell a story about, but all of these actors* - Peter Mullan, for God's sake! - were quite capable of delivering it with minimal direction.
And the title and the poster image that incorporated and reflected it? Sheer red herring, as far as I can see.
Just part of this comfortable myth that Joseph had enough humanity to go with his brutality and bullying that he would be self-aware when telling Hannah (Olivia Colman) that calling her that name (i.e. 'the Tyrannosaur') was how he mocked his late wife's clomping around because of her obesity or disability (I forget which).
So I know which film praised at Sundance I'll be rewatching - on a screen, if I get the chance!
* Incidentally, a factor links the three main figures:
Peter Mullan
Olivia Colman
Eddie Marsan
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23 December
* Contains spoilers *
Both hailed at Sundance, but how Paddy Considine's direction won a best award is beyond me, whereas Brit Marling / Mike Cahill's film did deserve all that it got (and probably more):
Did Tyrannosaur tell a story? Yes.
Was it pretty much a linear narrative? Yes.
Was the story shocking or innovative? Well, a man kicking his canine best friend to death because angry at someone else did jolt, but it just set the tone, only slightly offset as a stereotype by Joseph's (Peter Mullan's) being someone who can give a fuck (sometimes).
What was innovative about the direction? Yes, what was innovative about the direction?
In interview at Cambridge Film Festival, Considine was clear that: his script was the script; he is on the Autistic spectrum; and there was no role play / improvisation in sight.
For my money, he wrote a decent enough script, given what he wanted to tell a story about, but all of these actors* - Peter Mullan, for God's sake! - were quite capable of delivering it with minimal direction.
And the title and the poster image that incorporated and reflected it? Sheer red herring, as far as I can see.
Just part of this comfortable myth that Joseph had enough humanity to go with his brutality and bullying that he would be self-aware when telling Hannah (Olivia Colman) that calling her that name (i.e. 'the Tyrannosaur') was how he mocked his late wife's clomping around because of her obesity or disability (I forget which).
So I know which film praised at Sundance I'll be rewatching - on a screen, if I get the chance!
* Incidentally, a factor links the three main figures:
Peter Mullan
Olivia Colman
Eddie Marsan
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Another blog - Writer's Rest (2)
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23 December
At Writer's Rest, Lindsay has now made a posting to comment on my posting*:
That is the question and right now it is unanswerable. I want to read this book. I think author is right about the language used to describe this theoretical ascension into consciousness. Personally, I believe that IF it happens (I have no idea whether it will or not), it will fall far short of an apocalyptic event.
* IF technology were what it is cracked up to be, I would not have had to notice in the list of blogs that I am following that there had been a reply, I was supposed to get an e-mail - maybe the e-mail got too interested in watching the trailer for J. Edgar, though I can't fathom why (Hoover as a black woman in the court scene in Bananas, Woody Allen's early collaboration with Marshall Brickman, fires my imagination far more than Leonardo does)...
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23 December
At Writer's Rest, Lindsay has now made a posting to comment on my posting*:
That is the question and right now it is unanswerable. I want to read this book. I think author is right about the language used to describe this theoretical ascension into consciousness. Personally, I believe that IF it happens (I have no idea whether it will or not), it will fall far short of an apocalyptic event.
* IF technology were what it is cracked up to be, I would not have had to notice in the list of blogs that I am following that there had been a reply, I was supposed to get an e-mail - maybe the e-mail got too interested in watching the trailer for J. Edgar, though I can't fathom why (Hoover as a black woman in the court scene in Bananas, Woody Allen's early collaboration with Marshall Brickman, fires my imagination far more than Leonardo does)...
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The habit of collecting (2)
More views of - or after - Cambridge Film Festival 2011
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23 December
Some will know the drummer Jack de Johnette (of, amongst other things, long-standing service in Keith Jarrett's Standards Trio).
Well, in three spam messages to delete one surely from a would-be relation, Jacquetta Donnette, telling me how great I'll feel with an 'exact fake watch'.
So it's either the penis or - maybe not unrelatedly... - the wrist that gets targeted: Of Cock or The Clock, maybe one could say.
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23 December
Some will know the drummer Jack de Johnette (of, amongst other things, long-standing service in Keith Jarrett's Standards Trio).
Well, in three spam messages to delete one surely from a would-be relation, Jacquetta Donnette, telling me how great I'll feel with an 'exact fake watch'.
So it's either the penis or - maybe not unrelatedly... - the wrist that gets targeted: Of Cock or The Clock, maybe one could say.
If you want to Tweet, Tweet away here
From the archive: In a Better World reviewed in a poem
More views of - or after - Cambridge Film Festival 2011
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23 December
Christian's Journey
21 August 2011
Copyright © Belston Night Works 2011
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23 December
Christian's Journey
A boy who played with pipe-bombs
Nearly kills his friend -
Christian's the bomber,
Saved by his friend's dad:
Elijah's not in pieces
(Though he thought him dead)
And, on the towering silo,
He need not seek his end.
Returning from his coldness
At his mother's death
(He'd made himself heroic -
His father's sternest judge),
The future is reopened,
The truth can be revealed,
And Christian learns of feelings
That his hate concealed.
21 August 2011
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There is another Earth – and, wow, up there with Solaris! (part posting)
More views of - or after - Cambridge Film Festival 2011
(Click here to go directly to the Festival web-site)
23 December
Something doesn’t have to be plausible to be genuine, human, warm and engaging, and elements of Another Earth are not plausible*, but that didn’t matter.
If I had earlier followed up, as I intended, the newspaper’s and Sundance’s recommendation to see this film, I could have given it the ‘watch it again and see if it matters / works’ test. However, this was the last screening most locally to me, so no another Another Earth for me just yet…
One thing to have known from a second screening might have been whether there were clues in the first 20 to 30 minutes that I missed that it was going to develop and build so dramatically. That said, there was nothing about it to say ‘Cut your losses, this isn’t going anywhere’, it’s just that it gave the impression of being unexceptional, which, start to finish, it certainly isn’t. (It would have take a cussed ‘This isn’t what it was cracked up to be!’ to walk out.)
Another would have been to know when Brit Marling’s luminous quality as Rhoda Williams first came through, because, again, I had the expectation from the write-up that the actress / co-director / co-producer was striking and her performance revelatory, which she and it are. For what she reveals, she sometimes also conceals, but there was a subtly amused tone to her response to what John Burroughs (played by William Mapother - a curious alternative to cartography!) was saying to her.
... To be continued - in another posting
* They are minor things, but criminal rehabilitation, both in prison and on parole, would have involved seeking to apologize to the victims of the crime or, as the case might be, being directed to stay away, because saying sorry wouldn’t be welcome.
If you want to Tweet, Tweet away here
(Click here to go directly to the Festival web-site)
23 December
Something doesn’t have to be plausible to be genuine, human, warm and engaging, and elements of Another Earth are not plausible*, but that didn’t matter.
If I had earlier followed up, as I intended, the newspaper’s and Sundance’s recommendation to see this film, I could have given it the ‘watch it again and see if it matters / works’ test. However, this was the last screening most locally to me, so no another Another Earth for me just yet…
One thing to have known from a second screening might have been whether there were clues in the first 20 to 30 minutes that I missed that it was going to develop and build so dramatically. That said, there was nothing about it to say ‘Cut your losses, this isn’t going anywhere’, it’s just that it gave the impression of being unexceptional, which, start to finish, it certainly isn’t. (It would have take a cussed ‘This isn’t what it was cracked up to be!’ to walk out.)
Another would have been to know when Brit Marling’s luminous quality as Rhoda Williams first came through, because, again, I had the expectation from the write-up that the actress / co-director / co-producer was striking and her performance revelatory, which she and it are. For what she reveals, she sometimes also conceals, but there was a subtly amused tone to her response to what John Burroughs (played by William Mapother - a curious alternative to cartography!) was saying to her.
... To be continued - in another posting
* They are minor things, but criminal rehabilitation, both in prison and on parole, would have involved seeking to apologize to the victims of the crime or, as the case might be, being directed to stay away, because saying sorry wouldn’t be welcome.
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