Archive for May, 2008

The Debut Album Game

Tony Blews popped up an interesting post yesterday about a new game everyone can play, Your Debut Album!

Being the type of sucker that enjoys this sort of thing I went along and had a go. Anyway to cut a boring story short, here’s what I got, by the way you should read the rules before you look at all this otherwise it’ll mean fuck all!

My random Wikipedia entry was about the Susi Earnshaw Theatre School.

My random quote turned out to be.

It is our choices… that show what we truly are, far more than our abilities.

From J. K. Rowling and her interminable book Harry Potter and The Chamber of Secrets.

And my photo was this delightful piece of pop art.

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So after a bit of crafty Photoshopping I came up with this!

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Nifty, huh?

Gary Oldman

Gary Oldman is a fucking genius. Actor, director, writer, the man has it all. I wish I was half as successful.

Terminator: Crackerwax

So, there I was, relaxing and having a bit of an afternoon snooze when I was rudely awoken by my phone going off.

By golly I’m glad it did though, it enabled me to remember what is quite possibly the best dream I’ve had since the one where I leapt onto a double decker bus to escape a Predator that was chasing me down Oxford Street.

The dream only lasted about ten minutes, but in that ten minutes I managed to really feel fear, proper I’m going to die style fear. It was awesome.

I was hiding out in a house, a small house, the sort you’d see in American movies set in the mid-west. It was all one floor and the rooms all joined on to each other so it formed a sort of four room circle. I was in the front corner of the house to the left of the front door and I was peering through the blinds.

From my vantage point I could see a Terminator standing on a big metal shipping container, the type the ship cars and things in. This Terminator was a T888 like in the TV series, it had its back to me and was slowly scanning the horizon.

My immediate assumption was that it was looking for me, so I carefully and quietly crept out of the house by the side door and, ducking down, ran through more of the shipping crates. At one point I was passed by a police cruiser, what it was doing I wasn’t sure but my only focus was on escape from the Terminator that I was convinced had been sent to kill me.

So after a short crouching jog I came across a rather old, dark blue pick up truck. I quietly opened, what should have been the passenger side door, and climbed in. Even though I was convinced I was in America the truck was right hand drive. There were no keys in the ignition, so after pulling down the sun visor and discovering there weren’t any there either I resigned myself to going back to the house, talking my chances with the Terminator and looking for some car keys.

At that point I woke up. My heart was racing and I thought that the whole thing had been real, it took a good five minutes for me to relax.

This raises some questions though.

  1. What were all the shipping crates doing surrounding a lovely little bungalow/house thing? Could mean a lot of things that one.
  2. Was the Terminator actually after me? Could it have been protecting me? Does this suggest or signify that I’m unjustly suspicious of those that care about me, or that they’ve turned their back on me?
  3. What significance does the passing police car have? Do I feel that those that should help me are unwilling to or can’t anymore?
  4. Why was the truck right hand drive, even though everything else was obviously American? Am I the odd one out?
  5. Why was the Terminator a T888, which isn’t the traditional and more obvious T800 Arnie-looking Terminator? Is the fact that the T888 series have never been the good guys significant?

It was all very strange and I can’t help but think there’s more to this than meets the eye! All thoughts on a post card to the usual address.

Ouija Boards

You know what would really impress me during a Ouija board session? If the glass were to move by itself.

Yeah that’d do it for me.

You see, that glass, or planchette if you really want to give your made up shit some authority, is in fact moved by what is known as the ideomotor effect. Tiny subconscious motor movements that you don’t even register.

Perhaps they’re not enough to fling a glass across a room, leave that to the charlatan running the show, but certainly enough to move it a few inches.

So I repeat, if you want me to believe in your silly little ghost stories, I want that fucker to move by itself.

Happy Birthday Tony!

Well he could have let me know, jeez. I don’t know why I bother.

Anyway happy birthday Mr Blews, in honour of the event I present you with this tune.

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Every word is true. Happy birthday!

Dylan Thomas – And Death Shall Have No Dominion

Dylan Thomas, what a guy.

And death shall have no dominion.
Dead men naked they shall be one
With the man in the wind and the west moon;
When their bones are picked clean and the clean bones gone,
They shall have stars at elbow and foot;
Though they go mad they shall be sane,
Though they sink through the sea they shall rise again;
Though lovers be lost love shall not;
And death shall have no dominion.

And death shall have no dominion.
Under the windings of the sea
They lying long shall not die windily;
Twisting on racks when sinews give way,
Strapped to a wheel, yet they shall not break;
Faith in their hands shall snap in two,
And the unicorn evils run them through;
Split all ends up they shan’t crack;
And death shall have no dominion.

And death shall have no dominion.
No more may gulls cry at their ears
Or waves break loud on the seashores;
Where blew a flower may a flower no more
Lift its head to the blows of the rain;
Though they be mad and dead as nails,
Heads of the characters hammer through daisies;
Break in the sun till the sun breaks down,
And death shall have no dominion.

Enough said.

Yamaha Tenori-On

This is too cool for fucking school. No shit if I had £600 to drop right now, I’d be dropping it ona Tenori-On. Look at this.

That my friends is a Tenori-On, a brand new type of instrument created by two Japanese dudes, Toshio Iwai and Yu Nishibori. Its original design came about as part of Iwai’s desire to build an electronic instrument of true beauty. By jove, I think he’s got it!

If you watch this video too, you’ll see one of its cooler features.

Those two ladies’ (The Tenorions) Tenori-Ons are playing in sync, their both playing little bits and bobs on each of them and the units are tying in with each other to keep it harmonious. How cool?

I can’t believe I missed this when it came out two years ago! Isn’t the future fantastic?

Star Wars Is Not Set In The Future

Read this. Carefully.

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Not tricky is it? ‘A long time ago in a galaxy far, far away. …’, it’s not like anyone’s trying to catch people out is it?

It states clearly at the beginning of every Star Wars film (even the shit ones, I-III and VI for the record) that this movie isn’t set in the future.

But it’s got spaceships in it? No! Shut up, fuck off, look, listen. It is set in the past, a long time ago.

But it’s got robots and stuff? And? So has the Toyota factory in Derby and that’s not from the future. What part of this is difficult?

But people shoot each other with lasers? Aaaargh! Look it says in bright blue fucking letters at the start of the film: A. Long. Time. Ago. End of story.

Yet still people insist on describing Star Wars (any of them, they’re not fussy) as a futuristic film, or a fanciful futuristic romp, or whatever.

Look at these reviews for further proof of people not paying attention:

Ken Tucker – New York Metro

“…his [Lucas'] lurchingly thought-out rendering of futuristic politics prevents the entire series from achieving the greatness to which it aspires.”

Jonathan Young – Theosophical Society Of America
“Because the Star Wars stories are set in the future on fictional planets, we are able to get beyond the naturalism of most movies.”

Sean Axmaker – Amazon.com
“Luke faces the black-clad villain Darth Vader (David Prowse, voice of James Earl Jones) in a futuristic sword fight.”

Oh, and for the record the ellipsis at the end of the sentence? There should be four dots, seemingly the first one acts as a full stop. There should also be an extra space between the first dot and the ellipsis, but hey, if no one’s reading it anyway. …

George Lucas Isn’t A Very Good Filmmaker

Ooh, look an unreleased still from The Empire Strikes Back.

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Luke Skywalker and Princess Leia Organa just about to share a tender, and by the looks of things steamy, kiss. Isn’t that so romant… Hang on! They’re brother and sister! Twins in fact! This is a kids movie, kids don’t need to deal with incest in their films.

And so begins the first exhibit in the case of George Lucas vs. Coherent Film Making.

Remember when we are first introduced to Obi-Wan Kenobi and Luke asks about his dead Dad? It went a little like this.

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Right, well, ok, no. No, doesn’t fit with any of the other movies. Lucas had originally intended for Darth Vader to be a name, not a title. All this bullshit of it sounding like dark father is guff. Strike two for consistency.

In the Empire strikes back Vader is obsessed with finding Skywalker all of a sudden, where did this come from? How come he didn’t sense that Skywalker was his son when he followed him down the Death Star trench proclaiming ‘The Force is strong with this one’?

Not only that but if, as every fucker seems to think, he’s the most powerful Jedi ever, why didn’t he sense that Leia was his daughter when he boarded her ship, imprisoned, interrogated and tortured her in A New Hope?

At the end of the day Lucas got lucky with A New Hope (as it later became), it was great, people loved it and it was fun. A trilogy it was not meant to be. In my opinion the Vader as father thing was thought up for The Empire Strikes Back and Luke and Leia as twins was thought up for Return Of The Jedi.

A New Hope was designed to be a stand alone movie.

I can buy this even if he was thinking of a trilogy, if it failed it would have had to be judged on its own, this I can understand. However it was hugely successful, so instead of saying right, let’s go the fun starts here, Lucas started making out that it was always his plan to have three, six or nine movies.

Let it go George. Please.

Bannakaffalatta, Cyborg And Proud!

Featured in the 2007 Christmas special Voyage Of The Damned, Bannakaffalatta is a four foot tall alien from the planet Sto. He looks like this.

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What an astonishing design, huh? No, no it’s not is it.

Aside from the obviously shit design and name, Bannakaffalatta is also responsible for some of the most cringingly obvious dialogue ever witnessed in Doctor Who history.

This squeaky voiced, crimson, conker faced prick, managed, with the help of Russell T Davies’ usual appalling dialogue, to equate cyborg rights to those of gay people.

That’s right Bannakaffalatta was ashamed that he was a cyborg. So ashamed that Astrid Peth (Kylie Minogue in a career defining low) had to sit beside him, as he died, stroking his spiky bonce telling him that there was nothing to be ashamed about.

You see, as it turns out being a cyborg was widely accepted in the universe and that, and get this, cyborgs could even marry now!

Talk about laying it on thick.

The end of Bannakaffalatta came about a few seconds after he first revealed himself to be a cyborg by unleashing a huge blast of energy from his chest. I would ask though, since when has being a bit on the robotic side meant that you can zap fuck off dirty bolts of electricity from your chest?

I suppose Russell would say that’s the beauty of sci-fi, it lets you write badly and get away with it do whatever you want free of constraint. I’d say it was just plain shit.

Guided By Voices – Game Of Pricks

Not much I can say about this, other than that I like it.

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Quite punky and Pixies-ish, no? Yeah, you knows it!

Daleks

Where do I begin with Daleks?

There is so much wrong with this classic villain that it’s hard to know how they’ve managed to survive relatively unchanged for forty five years. My best guess is that rather counter intuitively that the most feared race in the universe has become a familiar, warm and cuddly reminder of childhood and therefore untouchable in the (weak) minds of the nation.

When I say nation I do of course mean the estate of Terry Nation who no doubt see the unchanged, unimpressive, unemotional Daleks as a cash cow to be milked until the end of all time.

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They first sprung into being in 1963 in the second Doctor Who series and are described as a powerful race of mutants seeking to dominate the entire universe. They are completely without emotion, so no love or pity or guilt or compassion. Oh, except they can still hate.

Yeah, that makes sense, no emotion except hate. Nice one. Not one-dimensional in the slightest then?

It makes my fucking blood boil to see this supposedly master race portrayed so badly. Like most of Doctor Who the Daleks are a great idea spoiled by piss-poor implementation.

In fairness to them I recall the first time they appeared in the new Doctor Who. The ninth Doctor, Christopher Eccleston, discovered one in some rich nutter’s underground, alien artifact museum.

Even though it was chained up and damaged Christopher Eccleston still managed to portray palpable fear. For an instant I felt the true menace that an alien race that was hell bent on wiping out everything that wasn’t them, could inspire.

Of course later in that episode when it inevitably escaped it became the shouty caricature we know and, I am reliably informed, love.

The principal behind the Daleks is sound, see my comments above, it’s the design and execution (should that be extermination?) that’s flawed. The design hasn’t changed in any significant way since they first appeared, the picture at the top of the page is from the 1965 movie Dr Who And The Daleks and the image below from the 2007 episode Daleks In Manhattan.

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Not much fucking difference is there? Forty two years and they still have sticks for arms, light bulbs on their heads and a single ‘eye’ on a stalk.

BBC should look to the gold standard of series reboots Battlestar Galactica and their handling of the reinvention of the Cylons. The new Cylons were familiar yet more menacing. The designers of Battlestar Galactica used CG to their benefit, no longer did the Cylons need to have a bloke inside, therefore they designed them free of those constraints.

And they did a fucking great job. The only real movement we’ve had on the Dalek front, aside from changes in colour and dimensions, has been this abortion.

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Dalek Sec. Part Dalek, part human, part spiv. What the fuck were they thinking!

I think it’s safe to say that it’s time they were redesigned. In the redesign they should look to change three of the most obviously shit Dalek characteristics.

  1. The Voice
    That fucking voice! Jesus it’s old hat. Why must they insist on screaming exterminate at the top of their lungs all the time?

    A greater sense of menace would be achieved with a deep, menacing, growling, animal voice. Or better yet no voice at all, have them communicate telepathically, with only the chief Dalek ever communicating anything.

    Surely that makes sense? If they’re as advanced and as hell bent on destruction as we’re lead to believe surely they wouldn’t have to communicate with each other, and anyone within the vicinity, in their preposterous shouty voices?

  2. The Shell
    How many times have they changed the actual Dalek creature inside the shell? This relatively unseen, aspect of the design has been redesigned numerous times but they always left the bit that matters alone.

    It’s time they looked at giving the Daleks different shells, all we get at the moment is a few different colours. Hardly the most important consideration to a master race? Although, having said that, the Nazis did like a good uniform.

    No, this is too obvious to ignore. The traditional Dalek shell might be ideal for life on Skaro, assuming radiation turned every surface to glass, lovely smooth glass, but for the conquering of space I think we need to look at a few more designs.

    Call me a radical but I think it’s probably time they had legs. Legs and big fucking guns. Make them scary again. An army of insect like Daleks that, very much like the Cylons, retain a few design hints of the past (I’m thinking bobbles and ‘eye’ stalks) but manage to give them a true air of menace.

    Sure they should keep the traditional shell for use on board their ships or whatever, just give them some more appropriate tools for the universe domination part of the thing. For example flying, I have no desire to see the traditional Daleks flying.

    If they need to fly give them flying machines, remember the Dalek is inside the shell, the shell is not the Dalek.

  3. Their Goals
    What are their goals nowadays? Do we actually know?

    The Klingons joined the federation when shit got fucked up in their solar system. The Cylons have found God. Christ, even the Predators help humans from time to time.

    The Daleks just seem to be painted as overwhelmingly ineffectual pantomime villains, who’s only apparent goal is to interrupt The Doctor’s regular visits to Queen Victoria and William Shakespeare (as routinely as Michael Parkinson interviews Muhammad Ali and Billy Connolly, each new Doctor is sure to visit that pair at some point).

    Give them a proper purpose, let them regroup, redesign and come back stronger to either take over the universe or alternatively join forces with The Doctor to defeat a race of beings who threaten even them.

Whatever they do though let’s not have them atop the Empire State Building again though, eh? What was the fucking point of that!

Shaft (Damn Right)

Did you know that Isaac Hayes won an Oscar for the Theme From Shaft? Deserved it though. Shaft was a bad motherfucker.

Oreos

I can’t fucking stand Oreos. They are the shittest biscuits on the planet.

Gleneagles

I’ve just spent the past couple of days at Gleneagles and I must say it’s really very nice.

As I type I’m sitting in Braid’s Coffee Lounge having a latte, passing the time until I get my ride back to Edinburgh airport to catch a jet back down south.

Gleneagles is just like you’d imagine it, grand old magnificence side by side with an air of understated grace.

According to my boss, Colin Montgomery was here playing golf yesterday, for those in the golfing know this is a good thing. I imagine it would be a bit like me bumping into Jeff Minter while playing Tempest 2000, sort of.

Still I’ve had a lovely time and enjoyed every minute of it. I’ve done Claridges and now I’ve done Gleneagles, I guess that just leaves the Waldorf Astoria…

Absorbaloff

The Absorbaloff is a big fat alien played by Peter Kay in a rubber suit. At least I think it’s a rubber suit, it’s hard to tell.

The basic premise of the Absorbaloff is that it absorbs the bodies of those it comes in contact with. It does this to, er, well, to, er, I’m fucked if I know why he does it but rest assured he does. Often with hilarious consequences! As you would no doubt expect what with Peter Kay being the funny-man behind the suit.

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It’s a bit of a metaphor that, Peter Kay wearing a suit. He probably wore it in the same way he wears the jolly-top-bloke demeanour he wears on every public appearance. A demeanour that hides a broken man despising himself for trotting out the same side splitting comedy gems as ‘Garlic? Bread?’ and ‘Fancy a brew?’ night after night, to council house dwellers who’ve driven all the way from Bolton to see him.

I digress.

The eagle-eyed amongst you will no doubt have noticed the creatures name, Absorbaloff, is a play on the fact that said creature absorbs-a-lot. The clever substitution of the final tee sound for an eff sound, cunningly hiding it from the average member of the Doctor Who audience.

The creature was designed (pffft, designed indeed) by a nine year old Blue Peter competition winner called William Grantham.

William? How very Radio 4. Given the recent Blue Peter competition hoo-hah though, I wouldn’t be at all surprised if we were to find out that William Grantham was Russell T Davies in a rubber mask.

The storyline surrounding the, ahem, Absorbaloff relates to a really shit super pals club called L.I.N.D.A (which stands for, and I’m not shitting you here, London Investigation ‘N’ Detective Agency. Christ, I ask you), which gets infiltrated by a shady character called Victor Kennedy, also played by Peter Kay (though not in a rubber suit, though you’d be forgiven for thinking he was).

Once he joins the group, members start going missing.

Cue E.L.O., lots of anguished expressions from David Tennant, the immortal line ‘Elton! Get a spade!’ and then it’s over. The Absorbaloff is killed never to be seen again.

Oh, and thanks to the Absorbaloff there’s a heavy suggestion that the hero of the piece gets blow jobs from a paving slab.

Welcome To Doctor Who Is Dire

Having watched most of the re-imagined Doctor Who since its launch back in 2005, I have found myself becoming increasingly frustrated at its lack of imagination and its willingness to trot out the same tired old baddies and aliens time and time again.

This sense of frustration has grown and grown until eventually it reached a stupefying crescendo a few weeks ago with the screening of the abysmal ‘The Sontaran Stratagem’, with its ridiculous aliens and hammy acting it managed to completely trounce the last remaining hopes I had that Doctor Who could be great again.

The program has become a vehicle for Russell T Davies’ egotistical desires. He’s slowly raping each and every Doctor Who property, one by one. Sometimes even two at a time.

So in order to vent my frustration I bought the domain DoctorWhoIsShit.com and set about creating a repository for my musings.

I hasten to add it’s not finished yet but I’m going to be posting on it anyway. So there.

Doctor Who Is Shit

Time for a few home truths, BrightLightFright was never going anywhere. You know it, I know it, fuck, we all knew it! So from today it forwards to this site and I’ve got a new site in its place.

Ladies and gentlemen I present to you Doctor Who Is Shit.

Fed up of writing all my Doctor Who rants on this site and having people ignore them I decided, rather obviously, to collate them all into one place.

Over the next few weeks I’ll be changing the look of the site a bit and adding more content but for now it stays as it is.

I’m rather proud of the graphic by the way, there is no better picture of David Tennant’s Doctor Who looking like a twat.