The Other Book of Ely

A more considered farewell

2011-01-03T17:38:20Z

Given my last post lacked somewhat for finesse, I guess I should try to explain a bit more clearly why I haven't written on here for a couple of months, and don't currently intend to again (though one says these things...). It is germane to what follows to issue the usual caveats, which should be taken as read throughout:
i) this is only my opinion, and
ii) where the response is "well, it's alright for you...", then my only answer is "yes, I guess you're right"

There are basically three types of blog post I find myself wanting to write:

i) funny blog posts, usually short
ii) personal blog posts, often angsty in nature
iii) blog posts about Stuff in the Outside World

I have found that the first of these can be shifted easily to Facebook, which is actually a more natural home for them, because the imperamnence of the medium suits the throwaway nature of the comment.
As for the angst, I have found actually myself happier since I stopped writing it. If I fight the feeling, more often than not I find it goes away, and/or I think of something funny to say instead. I have very little new to say about the aspects of my life that trouble me, and occasionally I have found myself getting into the highly unhealthy state of counting comments, and assuming that if there are no comments, that nobody cares. This is Really Bad For Me, so I needed to stop it
The comments on Stuff Outside are of course where it gets harder. The fundamental point was put well by people wiser than me - that it is often difficult to distinguish on the Internet between an attempt to shape an as yet tender view (which needs helpful and constructive moulding), and a request for Rigorous Debate. Beyond that, I just don't like argument particularly, and certainly not in a text-only medium, where it's so hard to keep a contriol on the emotion level. It isn't how I want to spend my leisure hours. I also feel that I do not want to get into a real-world-stuff disagreement with a friend if I think my friendship with them will be impaired. If I think that someone will always have in the back of their mind "but he thinks X, and I can't accept that", then I'd rather keep my mouth shut. I can generally compartmentalise these things, and am nervous of people who can't, or choose not to. This may sound cowardly, but I really don't care - it makes my life work better. Thus, if I decide to start posting about Real Stuff again, it will probably be in a different, and anonymous, blog.

When I joined Facebook about 18 months ago, I didn't like it at all - the lack of thoughtful content, and the breadth of my F'list there bothered me. As for many people, the great watershed was discovering how to hide game notifications (obviously the cow you've found in Farmville makes you happy, but I couldn't give a monkey's), but beyond that, I have learnt to appreciate FB for what it is, and the level I want to get into it.
First, the content. With LJ, I feel guilty if I don't keep up, that I might miss something important. With FB, on the other hand, I find it much easier to treat it like a river of stuff flowing by - I dip in when I feel like it, and if I miss something, I miss it. I find that healthier, because it has less of a grip on my life.
Second, the width of F'list. On LJ, my F'list is exclusively from what Smith would call "the other life, lived in computers". On FB, I have friends from school, University, several previous jobs, and the LJ group. At first, this scared me, because I felt I wouldn't be able to post about anything which the wider group wouldn't understand. Now, I find that constraint paradoxically liberating. My FB feed reminds me that there are people doing both better and worse than me, and that they can live their lives without my dole of angst. I am happier when I don't dwell on the parts of my interior life that cause me pain, and being happy (or not unhappy) is a prerequisite to my doing anything useful. Even the parade of baby photos from some quarters remind me that life goes on...

I'm 35, and I want to live more of my life outside computers - the lighter touch and wider remit of Facebook suits me for this. While the contrast between the me I am online and the me I am at work sometimes feels like a tear in my personality, having both sides is also useful to my existence - my online life reminds me that I don't have to believe The Man's bullshit in order to survive, but life outside reminds me that I am competent at some things, and a retreat into solipsism and angst isn't going to do me any good.

I am still reading what is on my Default View, and commenting from time to time (though I very rarely comment on things posted to DW, because I find OpenID unreliable and irritating).

And with that, a very Happy New Year to both my remaining readers.

the_elyan @ 2010-09-27T11:00:00

2010-09-27T10:00:41Z

Reclusive Backer Saves Hobbit Films

Following the financial difficulties of MGM, New Line Cinema were described as "delighted" to welcome new financial backing for the two Hobbit films, to be directed by Peter Jackson.

The backer is believed to be a Mr Simon Mordecai Aloysius Unwin Golightly, a reclusive individual living near Esgaroth.

A spokesman for Mr Golightly said "My client is thrilled to be working with the team on this very important, and frequently misunderstood story. Peter Jackson is an outstanding director, and will retain absolute artistic control. However, my client is very keen to make sure that the right messages are taken from the film, and will be taking a very active interest in the storyboarding process. For instance, that whole thing about the hole beneath the left breast is just crap"

The financial director of New Line was unavailable for comment, but was seen by our correspondent in a Wellington pawn-shop, selling a jewel-encrusted broadsword and matching three-handled drinking-cup. Interested parties have also been instructed to watch eBay, searching under description "Arkenstone"

the_elyan @ 2010-08-17T13:42:00

2010-08-17T12:42:35Z

Right - this is a risky one...

This lengthy article about environmentalism, humanity and politics absolutely knocked me sideways. I think it's brilliant, both in conceit and execution, and I urge you to read it.

However, the writer's views on what environmentalism has become, and its relationship to politics (especially of the left) may upset or offend. If so I'm sorry for the upset or offence, but not for the recommendation - I don't agree with everything he says either.

Am disabling comments here - if you have views, feel free to comment in your own journal, or on the article itself.

But please, if you have time, do read it, because I really think it's worth reading, and thinking about.

the_elyan @ 2010-08-08T11:05:00

2010-08-08T10:05:15Z

In an act of devotion to a series above and beyond the call of duty, I am currently watching the second Matrix film. About the only thing to be said for the second film is that it's much better than the third one.

Mind you, it does have one saving grace - Neo and Trinity's sex scene remains one of the funniest things committed to celluloid in the last ten years. You can't define two characters by their enigmatic and detached cool, then show them screwing - it just doesn't work. Plus, those sockets they have all over them must really chafe. Especially if they have any we can't see, around their ... but no, if that was the case, at the moment of orgasm they wouldn't shout out, they'd short out.

the_elyan @ 2010-08-03T15:14:00

2010-08-03T14:14:26Z

Unlikely moments in sci-fi crossover:

"There is no spoon. There is only Zuul."

A real word processor

2010-07-27T11:48:33Z

I just love this little site, which I found at an exhibition in Bexhill at the weekend. It's what a word-processor would really be like if designed for human beings. Click on the various buttons to see what I mean.

the_elyan @ 2010-05-31T21:45:00

2010-05-31T20:45:28Z

Writing this at half nine on a Sunday evening means it will probably go for nothing, but it's in my head, and kind of important.

I spent much of th eweekend in Rye, and specifically the Queens Head, and it was splendid. Given the folks involved, I expected no less, but it really is an excellent pub - good booze, good food, and good people.

What I wanted to say is how awesome it is that my friends have created this wonderful thing out of promising but difficult material, and at the end of a lot of damned hard work, it's there. So much of life, including my own projects, came to naught or half a page of scribbled lines, so to see something so ambitious brought to fruition (even if there is more to do), is great.

Beyond that, of course there is the fact that other people like it - people we've never met, people who were just passing and heard the music, people who fancied a pint. I sat in the bar on Sunday afternoon, and a couple came in who had just hiked from Hastings (about 15 miles), and were ready for a pint. They were there for about three hours, and came away the happiest of campers. That's what a pub should do, and that I know people who have made one makes me very proud and happy.
In some ways it's easier to talk to strangers about this when it's my friends doing rather than my own. Bigging up my own achievements feels wrong, and I hedge them with qualificiations. But when it's my friends, I can say with a whole heart that they have created something wonderful, and that yes, they are awesome.

So - my congratulations to romauld, strongtrousers, libellum, cyrus_ii, and everyone else involved with the project - I wish you every success.

the_elyan @ 2010-05-06T19:51:00

2010-05-06T18:51:29Z

Ah - I've realised the best way to get myself limbered up for a long night of eection-watching.

"This is Vincent Hanna, coming to you live from Dunny-on-the-Wold..."

the_elyan @ 2010-04-21T10:15:00

2010-04-21T09:15:05Z

Just a quick plug:

If you have the good fortune to find yourself in the West Highlands, anywhere near Fort William, and have the means, I recommend eating (and staying) at the Princes House Hotel, Glenfinnan. I hope it would not be out of place to say that the meal we had there last week was splendid, and that the hotel staff were wonderful to us.

[puts away small trumpet]

Light

2010-03-14T22:15:25Z

A really good sunset isn't a moment in time - it's an unfolding of splendour. The light changes all the time, touching the clouds, setting the horizon aflame. Imagined lands and possibilities live briefly in the sky, then pass back into the shadows. Very rarely - at Land's End, atop the fortressin Arezzo, up the road above Harlech bay - I've seen the whole spectacle. More often I catch a flash of it, out of the corner of my eye, but by the time I find a way between the buildings, it's gone, until the next time.

There is a magic in the light you get when bright sunlight meets stormclouds. The deep, billowing grey of the approaching wall, suspended in the glow of afternoon sunlight. The spire of Norwich Cathedral, caught against a sky like that, is like a golden spike driven into the heavens. And when the rain falls from those clouds, it hits the ground in a shower of sparks, a multitude of rainbows.

It's all about light. Buildings, hills, water, these are all fine things - but it's how the light hits them, the way it changes from minute to minute and season to season, that makes them glorious. Once you realise that, every moment can become a new experience, because though you pass the same things, the light will be different. You can;'t manufacture that moment - it has to fall on you.

[I should, of course, post this at some time other than 10pm on a Sunday night, because then someone might read it. But tomorrow the way I see things will be different, and the day after, different again. If no-one is at the river as my boat floats past, they'll be there for someone else's]

Shakespeare and television

2010-03-04T22:47:01Z

I think old Will missed a few tricks by just limiting his output to the theatre:

1) [enter a BEARDED TIT]
Tonight, we’re in Scotland, at Dunsinane Castle. The man of the house, Mr Macbeth, is having a little dinner-party. Now what he doesn’t know is that we’ve been in touch with his best mate, Mr Banquo, and we think it’d be great if he dressed up as a ghost, just to see how his chum takes it. Mr Banquo thought this was a great idea. Now the guests have all arrived, and things are just warming up. Now then .. let’s see if Mr Macbeth is ... Game For A Laugh!
[during the following, bottom-right of screen is MACBETH, in the studio, watching in mounting embarrassment and hilarity]
MACBETH: Were the graced person of our Banquo present...
[tittering in studio audience]
MACBETH: Which of you hath done this?
[one of the LORDS at table, who looks suspiciously like HENRY KELLY, is giggling]
MACBETH: Never shake thy gory locks at me!
[in studio, MACBETH hides head in hands]
LADY MACBETH: Stand not upon the order of your going, but go at once!
[exeunt LORDS, except ROSS, who whips off a wig to reveal he is none other than the BEARDED TIT]
MACBETH: What the ... it’s you!
BEARDED TIT: Yes it is, Macbeth! Oh, your face...
[enter BANQUO, wiping off fake blood and grinning like an idiot]
MACBETH: Oh no – you mean you were ... and you let me ...
BEARDED TIT: Yup – it was priceless! You should be on telly. Well, you are...
LADY MACBETH: Out damned tit!
MACBETH: Oh, don’t mind her. She’s just miffed because I spoiled the dinner party. But I still can’t believe...
BEARDED TIT: Nor can we. But at least now we know you’re Game For A Laugh!
[in studion, MACBETH starts staring fixedly at Camera Three, and muttering about daggers. Hurried cut to commercial break]

2) [GEORDIE WHINE] It’s Day 54 in the Big Brother Castle, and Hamlet is in the Diary Room:
HAMLET: OH God – I just don’t think I can take it any more, you know. I mean – he killed my dad! At least, I think he did. And he’s shagging my mum. And it’s all so ... it’s just so unfair! I mean, why me? I should be King, but instead it’s all this. And I’m sure Ophelia is having it off with Rosencrantz. And her dad keeps just looking at me, and asking if I’m OK. It’s like everyone hates me or something. Life’s so crap. I’m going to listen to The Queen Is Dead again. Well, she is to me...
[exit HAMLET back into the house. POLONIUS is hiding behind the kitchen cabinet]
[enter OPHELIA]
OPHELIA: How does your honour for this many a day?
HAMLET: I humbly thank you – well, well, well.
OPHELIA: Oh Hamlet – you’re so emo! I’m going to the Jacuzzi. Have you seen Ros?
[exit HAMLET, snivelling]

GEORDIE WHINE: Day 57, and to liven things up, Big Brother has decided on a Task. We’ve sent in a bunch of actors to give them a show, and we want to see how the housemates deal with The Murder of Gonzago. Believe me, I’ve seen it – and it ain’t Shakespeare!
PLAYER: The natural magic and dire property, On wholesome life usurp immediately!
CLAUDIUS: I’ll be buggered if I’ll watch any more of this crap
[CLAUDIUS enters the Diary Room]
CLAUDIUS: Smug little bastard! He would get those actors to try and make me sit through Gonzago – it bored the arse off me at school, and it bores the arse off me now. And to be honest, if that’s his seduction technique, then I think Denmark’s in for a pretty thin line of succession. I’m not surprised Ophelia’s got together with Guildenstern .. or is it the other one? They’re all just a bunch of Wittenberg Woopsies anyway. If I had my way...

GEORDIE WHINE: Day 82, and it’s the last day in the Big Brother Castle. We’ve seen a few contestants go already – plucky Ophelia tried to swim out, and Polonius had that nasty accident – and now we’re down to the final six. So which of Hamlet, Laertes, Osric, Horatio, Gertrude or Claudius will be walking off with that 500,000 kroner prize? Remember, it’s your votes that count...
GERTRUDE: The drink, the drink – I am poisoned! [expiring gasp]
LAERTES: I can no more. The King, the King’s to blame! [final retch]
CLAUDIUS: [silent collapse]
HAMLET: the rest is silence [terminal gurgle]
[enter FORTINBRAS] Right – our votes cast say that...
HORATIO: Well, I’m not sharing it with that little twerp...
[he stabs OSRIC]
FORTINBRAS: Big Brother has decided that...
HORATIO: Oh shut up, you Norwegian turd!
[he stabs FORTINBRAS]
HORATIO: Ha ha! I showed you all! No more philosophy for me! I’ll be opening supermarkets every weekend! I’ll be presenting my own show on Radio Elsinore! I’ll be...
[fade to black]

3) Opening credits of the Jerry Springer Show
JERRY: Tonight, on the show, our topic is “My daughters all hate me, and I think I’m going mad”. Well, there’ll be plenty to talk about there. Can we have our first guest please?
[enter KING LEAR, to scattered applause. He sits down]
JERRY: Now then, Lear – tell us your story.
LEAR: Well, Jerry, I used to be King of Britain. It was a good gig, but I was getting fed up with it, and thought it was time to hand the reins over to a younger man. Trouble was, without a son, I didn’t have anyone, so I had this great idea. My daughters were always telling me what a great guy I was, so I thought ... why not divide up the kingdom between them based onj which one loved me the most?
AUDIENCE VOICE: Sicko!
LEAR: Not like that! Jeez, Jerry – where do you get them from?
[applause]
JERRY: Yes – you were telling us about your daughters?
LEAR: Well, to be honest, it all went a bit wrong. Two of them played along, but Cordelia – she’s the cute one – basically told me I was being stupid. So I got a bit angry, and told her to get the hell out of my kingdom. Probably not a great move, but I was annoyed.
[audience starts to boo]
LEAR: Hey, hey – she’d just said she loved me “according to her bond”. I mean, what kind of daughter says a thing like that? C'mon – what was I supposed to do?
[booing grows louder]
JERRY: Come on, everyone – let’s her the man out. So what happened next?
LEAR: Oh Jerry – everything’s just gone from bad to worse. Now the other two have turned on me – both at the same time. They’ve kicked out all my friends, and thrown me out on my ear in the cold. And one of them kicked my Fool!
[the FOOL crawls out from under a chair]
JERRY: Errr, right. Who are you?
FOOL: Prithee Nuncle, if an apple’s like to a codpiece, then thy wandering wits shall be yoked to an ass’s pate for a pound o’ peascod!
JERRY: Yeah. That’s real nice. SECURITY!
[exit FOOL, pursued by two ogres]
JERRY: Anyway, what’s happened to you now?
LEAR: Well, I’m living in a hovel since they kicked me out, with my only friend left, a mad guy I found out in the neighbourhood.
[audience start to make supportive noises]
LEAR: And they’re just so cruel to me! And they’ve taken away my friend Gloucester!
[audienmce rises to a crescendo]
JERYY: Well, Lear, we’ve got a little surprise for you. Your daughters aren’t still at home watching for you – we’ve got them right here. C’mon, bring them out!
[enter GONERIL and REGAN. Audience erupt into jeering and cursing]
GONERIL: You believe this old fraud?
[audience booing]
GONERIL: You do? Him and his gang of bonehead chums? You should see the state of my castle! They’ve wrecked it!
LEAR: But that’s only because you wouldn’t let them hunt!
REGAN: Oh, shut up! You wrecked my place too!
LEAR: You two used to love me
REGAN: Boy, were we ever stupid!
GONERIL: Hush up Regan – I’ll handle this. You never were any good at this sort of thing.
REGAN: But you never let me get a word in, you domineering cow!
GONERIL: What did you say?
[GONERIL makes to punch REGAN. An ogre grabs her arm]
GONERIL: You get off me, oaf!
[audience cheering]
GONERIL: [to REGAN] Here, have a banana...
REGAN: Thanks.
[she bites into the banana and immediately collapses]
LEAR: You see what I have to put up with?
GONERIL: You never really loved me, dad! It was always Cordelia this, and Cordelia that, and “look at Cordelia’s drawing of Daddy!”. You always hated me...
[GONERIL starts sobbing]
LEAR: Awww, honey, you know that isn’t...
[GONERIL lunges, and punches LEAR in the face. General havoc breaks out, with the audience cheering wildly]
[back wall of studio collapses, as the FRENCH ARMY, led by CORDELIA, marches in. CORDELIA takes one look at the scene, and buries her head in her hands.]
[Lights dim on melee and carnage, to JERRY]
JERRY: And here’s Jerry’s Final Thought. We’ve seen tonight how families can come apart. So if you have a kingdom to divide up, don’t just assume everyone will get along. These things take time, and sometimes all you need isn’t just love. So until next time, take care of yourselves and each other
[closing music. JERRY sits looking smug, until he is felled by the FOOL with a well-aimed bladder on stick]

Next week:

The caskets scene from the Merchant of Venice is revealed as an out-take from 3-2-1, and the Prince of Morocco ends up with Dusty Bin

Stephano and Trinculo enter It's A Knockout! in the "Gaberdine Challenge"

And don't miss Othello and Desdemona on All Star Mr & Mrs

the_elyan @ 2009-10-20T13:16:00

2009-10-20T12:20:03Z

Here's something interesting I didn't know, about the word "cliché":

"Let’s consider the origin of the word. For 19th-century typesetters, a cliché was a piece of language encountered so often in the course of their work that it had earned its own printing plate - no need to reset the individual letters, just stamp that thing on the page and keep going. So the cliché was an object, and a useful one: a concrete unit of communication that minimized labor and sped things up."

From this article.

the_elyan @ 2009-10-11T11:54:00

2009-10-11T10:56:41Z

An uneven but entertaining collection of wise saws and modern instances

I particularly like "The best things in life aren't things". As someone currently engaged in yet another skirmish in the Clutter War, I can apprecate that.

the_elyan @ 2009-10-11T08:47:00

2009-10-11T07:51:40Z

I wonder if Bat Television carries a crime-fighting adventure serial called Humanbat?

At the first sign of a crime being committed in the bat world, he couldf dash off to his "HumanHouse", and emerge dressed in jeans and a T-shirt. He would defeat the bad guys using such extraordinary skills as "walking", and with gadgets like the "Phone", with which he could make a "call", which would magically tell other bats where the perp was. Also, he could order pizza.

Maybe he could have a sidekick called Doug, or Trevor.

the_elyan @ 2009-10-09T07:58:00

2009-10-09T06:59:21Z

Go cephalopods!

Love the poster...

Silly ideas

2009-10-03T17:51:35Z

i) in honour of London's attempts to turn weekend travel into an episode of Knightmare, I would quite like a T-shirt showing all the circulatory systems of the body in a Tube map stylee, with various closures, diversions and explanatory notes. "Owing to unplanned engineering works after a heavy curry, the large instestine will not be stopping at...", and so on.

ii) Simple Simon met a bi man
Going to the fair
Said Simple Simon to the bi man
"BLANK"

An ancillary to the old favourite: "But you'd look sweet upon the seat of a bisexual made for two"

iii) In the Bungle, the mighty Bungle...

It's been a long day...

the_elyan @ 2009-09-23T07:34:00

2009-09-23T06:35:12Z

wondermark provides a curuious tool for naNoWriMo here

the_elyan @ 2009-09-06T12:43:00

2009-09-06T11:58:33Z

A love poem in 15 words or less:

Not for nothing did she sing beneath the stars
But for love.

However, this is only two lines of a verse not known in Elven lore:

Not for Nothing

Not for nothing did she sing beneath the stars
But for love.

Nor idly did she cry a name unknown
And hear her heart's chorus swell to infinity
But for love.

In no everyday world did she see the faces of angels,
Feel the passage of their wings around her
And believe her patience to be blessed
But for love.

So later, when they pulled her body from the ice,
And saw her face outstretched, her silent smile,
They knew that, in this final stillness
Of sun-flashed frost, she had found her prize,
Gained not for nothing, but for love.

the_elyan @ 2009-08-27T15:21:00

2009-08-27T14:25:10Z

Apologies for blatant hitching of two current obsessiosn (so yes, that'll be more PA lyrics). I blame the picture:

HappyCat: The Twilight Years

I have the advantage of being able to hear the song in my head, which is a swing parody, right down to the backing singers going "He's so fat, he's so fat".

the_elyan @ 2009-08-20T12:53:00

2009-08-20T11:54:16Z

The Economist's obituaries page broadens its reach

the_elyan @ 2009-08-14T20:07:00

2009-08-14T19:08:50Z

Bitten by the Nostalgia Beast.
If you are under 30, or didn't grow up in this country, chances are this won't mean a thing to you. But otherwise, it may stir a memory or two:

the_elyan @ 2009-08-11T22:36:00

2009-08-11T21:39:36Z

One more video. The attached is only a sample, but Bella Gaia looks awesome. It's just the latest in a long line of this sort of thing - see The Space Movie,l or various bits of the Orb - and its rather longer on atmospherics than hard data, but still it's incredibly beautiful:

Courtesy of info_sthetics

the_elyan @ 2009-08-11T20:51:00

2009-08-11T19:53:10Z

With thanks to ashfae:

This is a wonderful piece of performance art, from a Ukrainian talent show. I love the constant evolution, and Surreal quality of not knowing how one thing is going to become part of something else. It's eight minutes long, but really worth the effort:

And from the sublime to the ridiculous, but if you are about my age, and likely male too, then this just might stir up something in your memories. Image collection from the 1984 and 1985 Panini football stickers albums. I spent a lot of 10p's on those stickers when I was ten.

the_elyan @ 2009-08-10T19:38:00

2009-08-10T18:39:46Z

Possibly the oldest LOLcat in the world

Courtesy of languagelog

the_elyan @ 2009-07-15T21:43:00

2009-07-15T20:45:50Z

Evening enlivened by the discovery that a quiet corner of my DVD collection contains what may be the only commercially available film of Pete Atkin doing his thing. To wit, "Mermaid Frolics", from the Amnesty boxset I'm working through, contains a very silly song about trains. He's playing second or third fiddle to Julie Covington, who at that point was at the height of her fame (Don't Cry For Me, Argentina, and Rock Follies), but still...

Incidentally, if any of you have ever listened to the Radio 4 series This Sceptred Isle, he was the producer.