I know those of you who care probably have already visited the site, but I would like to point you in the direction of the ‘planet earth’ website. The pop-up window strikes me as particularly impressive in terms of technical achievement – you can whiz round the earth, which spins as a graphic, and click on certain sites for the video footage recorded there. Well, it’s exciting to me.
Yes, I know I’m sad!
In our modern era letters have become emails, and the yearly letters I remember my aunt sending from Brazil at Christmas are now supplemented by weekly emails. These letters my aunt sends to my grandmother, mother, uncles and cousins have a metaphysical smell – they reek of oranges and melons and cupuacou and everything my aunt sells in her shop.
Today, her weekly email was on the kitchen table. My father had printed it off, and had left it for me to read. It goes out to all the family. This week, aunt Toula describes watching carnival on TV from Rio, and the harvest from my uncle’s farm, and the sun beating down on the roof of the shop. It is snowing outside, and it’s about freezing, but the email conjured up images to me of the wider world. Although my essay, printed from the same printer just hours earlier, did not smell, reading the email I could detect the faint aroma of oranges and couprasou.
I thought I would bring you up to speed on my recent intellectual exploits. I suspect some of you get the impression that I come to university to drink and do pub quizzes; this is not so. I only do that in the evening – the day is for work.
I have begun writing my end-of-year film essay. It’s 2500 words, so I began it early. It is fascinating work. So far, I have set myself up in two, largely paradoxical, positions: I state that film has a grammar, which, if broken, would render a filmic text unreadable. However, I cite Metz in saying that film cannot be seen to constitute a language, as the shot-as-word analogy breaks down under analysis. What, then, is this thing with a grammar but is not a language? This is where I left my essay last night, having used up 1600 words already. I used to fear large word counts, but now 2500 does not seem enough.
Time to go look up protolanguages!
This morning, I woke up with a huge smile and a small hangover. No, I haven’t slept with anyone, but this was almost as cool. Last night, I went to the alsager arms pub quiz – my first ever pub quiz. My mates usually go, and I asked yesterday if I could join them. They said yes.
There were about 9 of us. I didn’t have much hope of winning, and treated it as just a bit of fun. Mostly, the questions were on celebrities, soaps and sport, which I know nothing of, but there were some general knowledge. I answered that the Yangtze flowed through china, and bamboo was the tallest grass, so I was pleased I could contribute.
This is especially pleasing given that our group won by one point! When that was announced, we all erupted. Cool or what? However, we then had a choice: either we could take away the prize of a vat of beer, or gamble for £250. we chose to gable.
This meant that one of us had to select a key from 7 in a bag, only one of which could open a safe. Switch did the choosing, and selected a key. At first, all seemed lost: the barman, a consummate showman, made it seem like the key wouldn’t fit. I turned away: oh well, I thought, remember what Kipling wrote.
Just then, my friends erupted for the second time. I turned back to see the box open! We had won, and the money was ours! It was the coolest thing ever! Then there was nothing left to do but to return to our table to divide the cash. I am, this morning, £27 better off.
Beer then flowed. We felt rich. I asked Steve if I should go with them again next Tuesday. He answered that he would kill me if I didn’t, or something to that effect! I had an excellent evening, and will certainly go again.
Now to go spend the winnings!
There is something I feel I ought to record. It is vulgar and crass, but it struck me as also being very witty (if that’s not too much of an oxymoron. In the men’s loo of the canteen of the MMU Crewe campus, on the back of one of the cubicle doors, amid statements that so-and-so was here, and so-and-so loves Jane, somebody once wrote:
The shithouse poet Strikes again, this time In haiku form.
This particular piece of graffiti made me laugh. It was vulgar, which is a prerequisite for graffiti, yet artful. It alluded to wit, and was self-reflexive, as if to say ”we university students can be as crass as anyone, but we do it with style and wit”. Sadly, I noted today that the cleaners had bee, and the cleaners have no respect for art or irony. The poem was gone, but not forgotten. This must seem crass of me, but I just thought this poem, by an anonymous author, was worth recording. Go here for more on haiku
Some fool made this. I do not know who, but they were / are obviously quite skilled in flash. However, flash only exists as a tool for making idiotic rubbish. This time, the fool has adulterated To Kill a Mockingbird, Harper Lee’s classic; there are no ninjas or flying sharks in the original, nor are there pirates. However, the film is very funny, and has a good soundtrack. Someone went to a lot of effort to make this. The question is why.
oops. made aa double post earlier, and I can’t delete posts, so why not go here while I find something senssible to say
Poor old Americans. How were they supposed to know that, soon after they invaded, sorry liberated, Iraq, it would decent into chaos? Of course they weren’t to know that they were removing the only thing stopping the two factions from killing each other. They were trying to do the Iraqis a favour! Now look. Oh no, it’s not America’s fault, and certainly not bush’s. he isn’t to blame for the seemingly endless bloodshed.
And if you believe that you’ll believe anything. Did nobody in the white house have the foresight to predict this? Or did they predict it and just not give a fuck? Either way, it’s scary that these intellectual cretins are running America, and therefore the world.
today I’d like to send you to two links. They’re both totally different but equally cool. First, I’d like to point out that the bbc has a new minisite for planet earth, which can be found here. the site itself is decidedly unimpressive, but, from looking at the reports, the programme itself should be fantastic!
Second, my little bro sent me a link to an independent news agency on the web which posts some very good reports which seem to concern how fucked up the current bush administration is. so, no news there, but a healthy dose of cynicism nonetheless. echo chamber project
I’m afraid this is going to sound like another of my adverts for the beeb, but last night I was sitting, rather bored in my room, and found you could watch entire episodes of comedy shows on the ‘net. How cool is that? I managed to watch Two pints of Larger and a packet of Crisps – of which I have always been a bit of a fan, although it’s not as funny as it used to be – and a strange Sketch show called Tittybangbang, which was weird but ok for having on while one is changing for bed.
I think this is rather cool – where else can you stream new comedy programmes? No doubt the likes of Rupert Murdoch will be complaining, and it probably won’t be long before the bbc stops it, but while it lasts I will enjoy it. Yes, TV is, these days, mostly idiotic tripe, but I still enjoy the odd programme before bed.
I love watching train crashes; It’s aa morbid fascination of mine. well, not literally, but metaphorical train crashes, such as when the tories destroy themselves after recent general elections. The debate over ID in america is particularly goo, for the battle is so one sided. the creationists keep piping up every now and again, only to be shown to be utter fools. It’s as funny as it is dangerous.
anyway, here’s the latest report
Here’s a prime example of “Men Are From Mars, Women Are From Venus” offered by an English professor from the University of Phoenix:
The professor told his class one day: “Today we will xperiment with a new form called the tandem story. The process is simple. Each person will pair off with the person sitting to his or her immediate right. As homework tonight, one of you will write the first paragraph of a short story. You will e-mail your partner that paragraph and send another copy to me. The partner will read the first paragraph and then add another paragraph to the story and send it back, also sending another copy to
me. The first person will then add a third paragraph, and so on back-and-forth. Remember to re-read what has been written each time in order to keep the story coherent. there is to be absolutely NO talking outside of the e-mails and anything you wish to say must be written in the e-mail. The story is over when both agree a onclusion has been reached.”
The following was actually turned in by two of his English students:
Rebecca and Gary.
THE STORY:
(first paragraph by Rebecca)
At first, Laurie couldn’t decide which kind of tea she wanted. The chamomile, which used to be her favorite for lazy evenings at home, now reminded her too much of Carl, who once said, in happier times, that he liked chamomile. But she felt she must now, at all costs, keep her mind off Carl. His possessiveness was suffocating, and if she thought about him too much her asthma started acting up again. So chamomile was out of the question.
(second paragraph by Gary)
Meanwhile, Advance Sergeant Carl Harris, leader of the attack squadron now in orbit over Skylon 4, had more important things to think about than the neuroses of an air-headed asthmatic bimbo named Laurie with whom he had spent one sweaty night over a year ago. “A.S. Harris to
Geostation 17,” he said into his transgalactic ommunicator. “Polar orbit established. No sign of resistance so far…” But before he could sign off a bluish particle beam flashed out of nowhere and blasted a hole through his ship’s cargo bay. The jolt from the direct hit sent him flying out of his seat and across the cockpit.
(Rebecca)
He bumped his head and died almost immediately, but not before he felt one last pang of regret for psychically brutalizing the one woman who had ever had feelings for him. Soon afterwards, Earth stopped its pointless hostilities towards the peaceful farmers of Skylon 4.
“Congress Passes Law Permanently Abolishing War and Space Travel,” Laurie read in her newspaper one morning. The news simultaneously excited her and bored her. She stared out the window, dreaming of her youth, when the days had passed unhurriedly and carefree, with no newspaper to read, no television to distract her from her sense of innocent wonder at all the beautiful things around her. “Why must one lose one’s innocence to become a woman?” she pondered wistfully.
(Gary)
Little did Laurie know, but she had less than 10 seconds to live. Thousands of miles above the city, the Anu’udrian mothership launched the first of its lithium fusion missiles. The dim-witted wimpy peaceniks who pushed the Unilateral Aerospace disarmament Treaty through the congress had left Earth a defenseless target for the hostile alien empires who were determined to destroy the human race. Within two hours after the passage of the treaty the Anu’udrian ships were on course for Earth, carrying enough firepower to pulverize the entire planet. With no one to stop them, they swiftly initiated their diabolical plan. The lithium fusion missile entered the atmosphere unimpeded. The President,
in his top-secret mobile submarine headquarters on the ocean floor off the coast of Guam, felt the inconceivably massive explosion, which vaporized poor, stupid Laurie.
(Rebecca)
This is absurd. I refuse to continue this mockery of literature. My writing partner is a violent, chauvinistic semi-literate adolescent.
(Gary)
Oh, yeah? Well, my writing partner is a self-centered tedious neurotic whose attempts at writing are the literary equivalent of Valium. “Oh, shall I have chamomile tea? Or shall I have some other sort of F-ING
TEA??? Oh no, what am I to do? I’m such an air headed bimbo who reads too many Danielle Steele novels!” (Rebecca) A-hole.
(Gary)
B-tch
(Rebecca)
F-YOU – YOU NEANDERTHAL!
(Gary)
Go drink some tea – whore.
(TEACHER)
A+ – I really liked this one.
further to my little rant about the end of the cap, please please can you all go to the following adress ad write to your member of paliament. It is very important PLEASE go here
“Even more important than the freedom of speech, is the freedom to speak”. Professor Stephen Hawking, ACE Centre Patron .
A blonde calls her boyfriend and says, ”Please come over here and help me. I have a killer jigsaw puzzle, and I can’t figure out how to get it started ”
Her boyfriend asks, ”What is it supposed to be when it’s finished?”
The blonde says, ”According to the picture on the box, it’s a tiger.”
Her boyfriend decides to go over and help with the puzzle.
She lets him in and shows him where she has the puzzle spread all over the table.
He studies the pieces for a moment, then looks at the box, then turns to her and says: –
”First of all, no matter what we do, we’re not going to be able to assemble
these pieces into anything resembling a tiger.” He takes her hand and says ”Second, I want you to relax. Let’s have a nice cup of tea, and then…..”he sighed, ”let’s put all these Frosties back in the box”
NB – I do not discriminate by hair colour, but it’s just funny!
at last, here’s proof that sleeping helps you make decisions. I’ve been saying for a long time that sleeping is good for you; it’ll also explain my urge to do more of it, although that could be just down to how much i drank last night. i’m off to bed.
The problem with credit cards, I have decided, is tax. The item I ordered from the internet on Monday came today with a massive ten pounds added for tax. Mind you, some of that’s probably postage charge too. Thus £17.45 became £28.45. that’s the last time I’m making that mistake! If it’s going to cost extra they should say so, preferably in big letters. It’s not as if I’m against tax – I am, after all, a nominal leftie – but it just gets you down when you realise how much the things you want really cost.
I need a job. no two ways about it
Westminster has tonight voted to ban smoking in pubs in England. As a non-smoker, I greet this news with open arms. While I love pubs, many times has my meal been ruined by the acrid smell of cigarette smoke. Now we can all eat and drink in clean air. Yay!
This news is dire. It concerns the ending of the communication aids project, which ensures children get the devices they need to communicate with the outside world. If this funding stops, these kids might not get the equipment they need. I am simply appalled, and speechless: I’m not sure what to do, or how I can help, or whether a new scheme will be put into place. But this funding simply must not stop, or do these kids mean nothing to the beurocrats in Westminster, who talk all day without realising how precious the ability to do so is? It’s sickening that anyone would put money before something like this -how can they even sleep?
What can w do to stop CAP ending?
Incidentally, Adam and his mum, Jenny are mentioned here.
I’ve made another foray into independence, or bankruptcy, although some say one will always lead to the other. Today I worked out how to use my credit card, on-line at least. It was the first time I have ever done so, but, while I cannot guarantee it won’t be my last, I won’t do it too often. I kind of find it scary: what if I find I can’t pay, and end up in debt? Are there still such things as debtors jails?
To be fair, it wasn’t a large purchase – less than twenty quid – but I thought it a decent skill to master. It’s silly: I can outline the base and superstructure of Marxism, differentiate between the szyuzhet and fibula in a film of the classical western paradigm, but I had never used a credit card. Well, today, that changed – I figured out how, all by my little athetoid self. It will certainly make buying birthday presents easier, for now I will not have to traipse to the shops. Mind you, shops are cheaper, and the gratification more immediate, and probably safer, but I was desperate to try it for myself. Huzzah!
However, I noted in the news today that ‘[a]fter 14 February some retailers may refuse to accept payment from people using chip and pin cards if they do not know their pin number.’ This may appear to be a good thing, but how are the likes of yours truly going to cope with punching numbers into those tiny key-pads? They do not appear to have key guards. Assuming that we get the shopkeeper to understand that we are intelligent, do we then relay our pin numbers through our communication aids, thereby broadcasting it for the entire shop to hear? Or do we have to try to punch it manually into the small grey box, which will mean endless tries, lasting about ten minutes each as you concentrate with all your might to hit the right button. I just hope there’s a backspace. I’m beginning to think this is a conspiracy, or at least discrimination through negligence, but at least I can now get stuff off the net.
Why do the yanks think they own the internet? I’ve just read this article, about how they are effectively intending to privatise the internet. The u.s ‘government’ barely more than a hoard of rednecks with the average iq of a rabid baboon – seems to want to put the net into the hands of private companies who milk it for profit. This would effectively mean censorship, where only those who pay can access certain sites.
The internet is, as we all know, the most powerful resource ever created. Through it, I have access to more information than I can possibly ever control. Now the yanks want to limit my access to it, so that they can make more money. It’s about time someone told these neocon idiots that they do not own the internet, they do not own it, and barely have the intelligence to understand it.
Stupid right-wing morons!
today I found one of the most outragous misquotes ever from a creationis. this is not a creation/evoluton blog, but the subject is a hobby of mine. anyway, if anyone ever wanted to see proof of creationists having no academic scruples, go here. Mayer blatantly misquots dawkins:
[quote=”Stephen C Meyerurl:http://www.telegraph.co.uk/opinion/main.jhtml?xml=/opinion/2006/01/28/do2803.xml”%5DInsert Contrary to media reports, ID is not a religious-based idea, but an evidence-based scientific theory about life’s origins. According to Darwinian biologists such as Oxford University’s Richard Dawkins, living systems “give the appearance of having been designed for a purpose”.[/quote]
whats so amusing and pathetic is that anyone who knows aything about the subject will know that dawkins openly and veehemently speaks against religgion and creationism, and the full text of th quote is ”Biology is the study of complicated things that give the appearance of having been designed for a purpose but are indeed, not.” how can anyone get away with such misrepresentation, especially in a national newspaper? moreover, the misquote appears in creationist sites all over the place. how irronic, how absurd, and how deceitful?
It’s probably just me, but I just find this article so cool! its about an expedition in indonesia which recently found a great many new species in new guinea. what I find incredible is, that in the age of satellites, there are still unexplored areas of the world. there are still blanks on the map, which means there are still adventures to be had!
and guess who intends to have them.
I have decided that the hardest part of writing is starting. Sitting down and actually coming up with the initial idea. What happens after that is simple – usually, after 2 or three hours you have one to two thousand words of story, and after a few edits it’s done. It’s getting that first idea that is hard.
Today, the ideas just weren’t flowing, as they hadn’t all weekend. I don’t know why: I was happy comfortable. Usually I get ideas just like that, but today the well was dry. I was beginning t wonder whether this was the dreaded writers block I had heard of. We were sitting in the library, between lessons: libraries usually inspire me, but not today.
Esther could see I was getting worried, so she sat me down, and began a mindmap. I usually think those are new age hippy bunkum, and didn’t bother when dad suggested I did one yesterday, but then, like a candle suddenly igniting in the dark, an idea hit me. Then another, embellishing on the first. And another. I began to write the story that I plan to finish tonight. The hippy mindmap had worked. Sorry dad
Let me start this entry with two positions: 1.. I am an atheist – I see no evidence if a creator being or god. I see only evidence for scientific reductivism. From this it follows that religion is a creation of man, and in it’s current state it is a political tool – it can be and is used for political tool. Marx called it the opium of the masses – a tool for mind control.
2. I am a liberal – thus I believe people can say whatever they want. When people are prevented from doing this, tyranny follows. What if Mandela was prevented from speaking out? Or martin luther King? People have a right to say whatever they want. My brother Luke once told me of an adage: I may not agree with what you say, but I will defend your right to say it to my death.
I hold the above positions firmly, and so I cannot condemn the publication of cartoons depicting the prophet Mohamed as a terrorist in a Dutch newspaper, even if they were probably penned by a bigot. I see clearly why there is so much furore, and I also see why they are deeply offensive to Muslims. Yet we have no right to censor such pictures. Part of the problem with religion is that it cannot be criticised, so it continues o be a political tool. It should be as open to satire as anything else, as it is the belief that religion should not be criticised that keeps the priests and mullahs in their pulpits. It’s time we lifted the curtain.
This aside, I can see great trouble following. Are wee seeing the beginnings of some kind of religious war?
I’m quite pleased with myself. I’ve done a lot of work – well, an 1200 wrd plot summerry to which I also began the script. yay! although its for uni, it doesn’t really feel lie work: its tooo much fun. today I got the president to almost eclare war on france, only to be saved by the u.k. nevertheless, its time to reward myself with some attenborough.
I just got in from my regular Tuesday night at the cinema. I had intended to see Brokeback mountain, but that would mean waiting around for two hours for the next showing, and getting home late, which I didn’t really fancy. The film nearest our arrival at the cinema was bee season – I hadn’t heard of this film, and thought it might be worth a try.
I was wrong. The film is a weird mix of spelling and theology: somehow, ancient religious scripture guides the daughter of this professor of religion to spell better. Somehow there’s a link between religion, power and spelling. It’s all done in this mystical way, where the girl can see imaginary birds spelling letters.
Its just a garbled mess – pointless melodrama mixed with religious undertones. It was made by fox, and I could see their grubby right-wing fingers all over it. Even the fine acting ability of Richard gere couldn’t save this film. No wonder I hadn’t heard of it.
Tonight I thouught I might post a link to the blog / online diary of my mate chris. He’s a great poet, musician, annd all round good egg. however, he has the poor sense to let me into his house every week.
link.
Perhaps this article from the bbc represents final proof that the united states government is a hoard of nutters. They seem uneasy with the ‘net being so open to different points of view – so much for valuing freedom of speech.
As for taking control of the entire electromagnetic spectrum, could they be planning to block out the sun, a la mr burns?
today is mozart’s 250th birthday. It’s probably fair to say my taste in music is rather eclectic: I like everything from holst to hendrix, although I can’t stand helter skelter or house. I just put on some Woolfgang Amadeus, and it is simply breathtaking. sooo beautiful. how many contemporary musicians will be remembered 200odd years from now?
Anyway, go listen here
It looks like I should stop lambasting the americans for breeding creationists; it looks like about half of us brits remain unconvinced of evolution too. mind you, most of us watch big brother. I despair sometimes, I really do.
click here for a disability-oriented perspective on celebrity big brother, an article with which I could not agree more.
I don’t usually post jokes, but this links to the best blond joke ever link
I am currently of the opinion that eighty to ninety per cent of TV is crap. Well, most of it is. It was probably always crap, and we only remember it as being good in the past because the good stuff is more memorable: we remember Jacob Brovlovsky’s Ascent of Man, David Attenborough’s Life on Earth / Blue Planet / etc, and we remember Schalma’s History of Britain, but we forget all the shyte that was on before and after it. So TV was probably always crap.
But it seems to be getting crappier. No, scratch that, the crap is getting crappier, but the good stuff is getting better. How, for example, can one condemn channel four for showing big brother – a programme, the very mention of which had my film lecturer in spasms of rage and bile – when it has the sheer cajones to show Dawkin’s Root of all Evil?
This programme was an open, unmasked attack on religion. While I agree with Dawkins’ sentiments – wholeheartedly so – I think the way he expresses those sentiments is open to criticism. For example, ” Religion isn’t ‘the root of all evil’ as such, but a primitive attempt to understand what it is to be human and thus provide meaning and purpose to our action. Ironically, Dawkins fails to appreciate how religion has contributed to the humanism he is seeking to defend.”source
In other words, a more balanced approach would be to explain how religion came about, and how it was once needed. At times it seemed like he was preaching rather than teaching, and he did so with the attitude of Kent hovind. What he did note but fail to stress is that science should never be taken at face value, for it is always being refined. It can never offer us absolute answers, saying with 100 per cent authority that something is true. Thus it is open to refinement, change, which is what makes it glorious.
At least dawkins’ programme contributes to the public knowledge. To me, worthy TV should fall into one of three categories: it should be art, science or sport. All three of these can be studied and analysed. For example, Dawkins’ programme can cause debate; it is open to analysis and criticism; thus it makes an intellectual contribution. Just as one can analyse film, you can analyse TV drama or soap opera. Believe it or not, even soaps have a lot to say about culture – the way the dramatis personae interact is a reflection of our society, so for analysis of culture soaps are an excellent tool. The characters remain relatively constant over long periods, so one can look at thee situations these people are placed into to see how society changes. One can look at the shooting styles and mise-en-scene employed and ask why the director made such choices, just as one can ask why a painter chose to paint something in a specific way.
This can equally be said of documentaries: although they are non-fiction, they are still produced – there are reasons why they are shot in specific ways. Although they are mostly scientific, there is some degree of art involved – go look at ‘<arch of the Penguins’ and tell me it isn’t beautiful.
While both rely on some degree of Scoppophilia and voyeurism, this, I think, is the fundamental difference between documentary and reality TV. My preferring one over the other is intellectually problematic because they are both are about watching things: we watch the moppets in the big brother house, but we also watch the animals in the jungle. What’s the difference? Why is one reprehensible and the other beautiful?
I see no art in big brother, as I do in documentaries. Admittedly, big brother has a director who chooses which camera to feed to air, while documentaries have directors who chose how to shoot things. However, their palette is limited in that the cameras are fixed throughout the house and they have no control over the subject matter. Thus, Big Brother is not art, but is it science? No, because there are differences between Reality TV and documentary. The real difference is the difference between voyeurism and Scoppophilia – one has overtones of perversion, the other is simply the joy of seeing. In other words, one is manipulative while the other is not; one is unnatural while the other is not. We look at documentaries because they show us nature, albeit artistically chosen shots of nature – they quench our thirst to find out about the world, which is the urge that underpins most of science. Reality TV shows like big brother are fundamentally different – they do not focus on natural phenomenon because the programme makers themselves manipulate the subject matter. Hence they fit neither category.
What, then, is the point of reality TV? they are neither art nor science, but are simply voyeurism. They defy any intellectual analysis because they make no comment – they say nothing of culture or nature, they do not contribute to the human condition: these programmes are simply unthinking voyeurism, a complete waste of time, made only because they are cheap and people are foolish enough to watch it.
It’s been a good day. Thursdays always seem to be good. I was just talking to my mate Steve, and we stumbled upon an idea for a film. I was telling him about the types of film ii want to make, about my desire to make realistic portrayals of disability, and we decided on a rough idea. I showed him my old essay Disability musings, and part of summon the lambs (explaining, of course, that Stanhope’s point of view is particularly bleak and cynical, and I do not share it, but it was one way of looking at things which is sometimes handy). He was impressed, and we set a date for next Thursday to get to work on it. Excellent!
If ever one doubted that there is beauty in cinema today, I would strongly advise them to go and see March of the Penguins. I just returned from my local Odeon, and I’m full of excitement, for I have just been reminded what cinema is capable of.
There is something in natural-history films that really capture my attention. They offer us the most enthralling images, I think. They are scopophalic orgies. There are shots in march which are simply breathtaking, such as those of the southern aurora, or of melting icicles, or the endless ice flows, extending into the distance, with the penguins marching endlessly on. You know these shots cost billions to set up, and they are framed with the eye of a master painter. Each shot is worthy of a photography exhibition.
Morgan Freeman is an excellent choice of narrator. His deep voice adds gravitas and a sense of profundity. His rich, smooth voice helps lull you into a mystified stupor, as you wonder at the sheer beauty of it all. Thus, although there is very little plot in this film – it is, after all, a documentary – it s a pleasure to watch. My parents were talking about going to see it, but I could not wait. Yet if and when they do go, I would like to go with them, for this is a film I want to watch again, and again, and again. Its quite simply the most beautiful thing I’ve seen in ages (life in the undergrowth aside).
One last note: in the states, the Christian fundies have adopted this film because they say penguins exhibit family values. As noted elsewhere, this is simply not the case, as the penguins frequently have affairs, fight, and kidnap children. Moreover, the film refers to a time when Antarctica was forested, which clearly shows it is in accord with modern science, not biblical claptrap.
Anyway, this is a great film. I really suggest you go to see it in the cinema: it’s amazing on the big screen (mind you, the Odeon were sonly showing it in a small auditorium, which s a heresy. How they can profess to be fanatical about film I do not know) Even if you don’t usually watch documentaries like this, I suggest you go. If you feel any wonder and excitement about the world at all, you will not be disappointed.
Interestingly, blogs can be in languages other than english, which may very well surprise some americans (that is, if they’re not too busy itching for war in iran!) anyway, I just received a link to my aunt Dinah’s blog, which has the pictures of what we got up to over christmas. I think the most amusing is the picture of luke’s hair; theres also one of grandma looking miffed, and one of me in a bra! thanks uncle and aunt. tres bien!
I have some very mixed feelings about Mr. Brown’s ideas about a day to celebrate Britishness. Indeed, the idea on one level may be paradoxical – Britain’s are characterised by the stiff upper ‘lip, and quiet respect for their country, rather than jingoistic flag waving, which I associate with Americans and vulgarity. Thus a public expression of Britishness would we innately unbritish.
Don’t get me wrong, I like being British – I loved beating the Australians last summer; I love old English beer; in the bbc I think we have the finest broadcasting company on earth, but this does not mean I want to put a flag up in the garden, or say ‘woo’ every time I hear the name of my country spoken. Such gestures of crass and puerile.
I know I am British, I do not need to remind myself or anyone else of it. Being British is being tolerant – about being tolerant of everyone upon this island, regardless of belief or skin tone or anyone else. It is this multiculturalism, not some vague idea of some mythic Britain, which should be celebrated. I may love British beer, but there is nothing more British, I’d maintain, than drinking a Belgian larger with a curry.
Yet, if tolerance is British, why can’t our schools be fully inclusive?
I was just catching up with the news on the bbc website and wondered onto ‘From our own Correspondent’. I sometimes listen to that programme as it reminds me of far flung places. I was, however, surprised to read that it is fifty years old, having began in 1955. they post some articles from the archive there.
What I found was quite incredible – an article written just after Stalin’s death. It allows us to glimpse the end of the cult of Stalin, when the man was worshipped as a god. we can see how the people of Russia loved him through fear.
I know a little about Russia, but it relates to the beginning of the communist era. During the October 1917 revolution, it was Lenin, not Stalin who lead – Stalin’s nickname among the Bolsheviks was ‘comrade paperclip’, because he just sat behind his desk. Only after he brutally came to the fore after Lenin’s death in ’24 did Stalin alter documents to show he was close to Lenin,
Fascinating, bloody era of history. How could this man, this insanely paranoid man, be worshipped as a god?
look here. My childhood role model, professor Stephen Hawking, is now a doll, and a yellow one at that. Is nothing sacred?
I sometimes think of the oddest things while lying awake in bed. This morning, at about four, I woke up, cold, and couldn’t get back to sleep. I looked at my alarm, and wondered why time wasn’t decimal. Why doesn’t the clock have 100 minutes instead of 60? And why not ten hours rather than twelve?
I started to do the maths. Assume we keep the second the same, a normal half day lasts 60*60*12 seconds instead of 100*100*10. that’s 43200 normally, instead of 100000 seconds with decitime. To fit decitime in with the normal day, we would have to make seconds shorter.
It then occurred to me that this would mean replacing every clock on earth, which would be very hard indeed. Alternatively, we could slow down the earth’s rotation, which may have implications vis–vis gravity. All in all, although it would make time easier to use in maths, decimalising it would cause more trouble than it’s worth.
It just seems quite a random number – 60. the Hittites came up with it. Oh well, perhaps when I become rich I can include decimalising time in my plan for world domination. [insert sinister laugh; enter the guy in a tuxedo]
The Ill-Informed Ramblings of a Cripple 