Friday, 22 October 2010

Yet Another Television Phenomenomenom

Jeebus Marvin and Yoshi combined!  Why do shows insist on playing around with their format?  Jumping backwards and forwards in time, jumping between sub-plots and making my head hurt?!  'The Event' I am looking at you, the latest in "mysterious sci-fi dramas".

There is no need for all this palava, trying to make yourself seem cool just because you overuse flashbacks to a criminal degree and drip feed us mystery after enigma after headache.

Now, we've been through all this with the X-Files, Lost, and Flashforward.  Two of these shows had a great build-up, but absolutely crashed when it came to actually bringing everything together (I'm relying on my boyfriend's opinion for Lost as I am stuck on Season 3), and the other only had the one series. 

Now what does this tell us?  That people like you and me are sick of so called "clever shows", that promise a story, and more importantly an ending, they fail to deliver?  That an EXPLANATION would be nice once in a while?  Now call me old fashioned, but I usually take my stories with a well thought out consistent CONCLUSION!  And not a wibbley wobbley mess of spaghetti letters, which I am sure, is the medium used by the colony of ants these writers have termed their "inspiration".  Now I am sure the endings of X-Files and Lost made perfect sense to their little ant brains, but not to me! (or my boyfriend).

Now for all my ranting fair and gentle reader, I will probably watch the subsequent episodes of The Event.  My excuse for this is that I probably have a streak of masochism when it comes to these things.  Ah well.  It'll probably get cancelled after one season anyway.

What Am I Doing Again?

Well fair and gentle reader, things have been a bit retarded of late haven't they.  The death of my grandfather meant that I was in no proper mental state to consider working on the next chapter of Gallow's Play, but I hope that you'll be delighted to hear that I am feeling much better, and shall be continuing the adventures of Artemis Gallow and her tiger friend Saber presently.  We'll set a preliminary date for Wednesday the 3rd of November shall we?

I'm working on a couple of short stories at the moment which I think are quite the bee's knees, and hope to publish one here, and the other over on if they like it :)

Work on Reaper is going slowly but surely, I'm having a lot of great ideas, and might even be close to publishing a synopsis if you are lucky fair and gentle reader.

And I am also working on a secret sewing project for Halloween, and there shall be pictures after the fact ;)

And I think that's all for the moment, so enjoy your weekend and feel free to bask in my radiance :)

Tuesday, 19 October 2010

Llammie Nema, The Dark Folk Duo Extraordinaire!

This is awesome.

This is a photo of my love and I at Portchester Castle, taken on Saturday, which our good friend and brother Matt Dray has fiddled with and turned into the front cover of our first CD, which I didn't even know we had recorded :D

And this is the back, as you can see, some VERY exciting songs on this'un.  Expect the first single 'Sweets For My Sweet (Absinthe For My Honey)', in the new year :).  Currently I think we are recording a follow-up album, 'Songs of Sugar and Wrong, Vol 2 (Tales From The Farmhouse Dungeon)', which will be ready for release sometime next summer :)

Aren't you excited??

The Future

Normal complacency will resume in time, fair and gentle reader, so keep lounging, and help yourselves to the teacakes.

The Teeth That Grind

Gods in Valhalla confound that hamster!  She has taken to climbing onto her wheel, from there reaching up to grab onto the metal lid, suspending herself from it like she's watched Mission Impossible too many times, and chewing the damned thing, thus impeding my sleep!  I have now lavished her with bits of wood to chew instead, and crossed my fingers that she catches on.

Monday, 18 October 2010

A Eulogy For Bernard Crawley

My grandfather and I were never close. 

We mostly never talked of anything past simple pleasantries when I became an adult, asking each other how we were when he would phone, inevitably in the middle of dinner to talk to my mother or my aunt.  There were the few occasions when he needed my technical expertise with computers, mainly with email, and on those few occasions we did manage to hold a somewhat stunted conversation, as most of the words we exchanged were to do with how this or that worked.

I can’t really recall conversing with him on any particular subject when I was a child and teenager.  When I would speak to him, it was to ask his permission for any particular something.  He always had a stern demeanour, a quick temper which thankfully faded with age, and he was a hard man for a child to love affectionately.  It was easy for me to fear him.

Those are the bulk of my memories of my grandad.

The others I have are different.

I remember asking him about my great-grandparents, and writing down the names he gave to me.  I remember that he let me harvest seeds from his garden to grow somewhere closer to home.  The puzzle he had started that he said I could finish.  The leather satchel and my grandmother’s old sewing box he said I could have. 

I remember the time when I was a tiny unknowing child and stuck a raisin up my nostril.  He fished it out with a pair of tweezers.  And the time when I got stuck in the downstairs toilet and he unscrewed the lock to get me out.

I have others, but I wish I had more.  Everything else I know about him is fact. 

A twin, he was born in 1926, married young, and had ten children.  He used to smoke before he had his first heart attack, and had subsequent problems with his health ever since.  He adored steam trains, built model railways, collected photos and recorded minute details in a dozen ledgers, an obsessive like myself.  When my grandmother died he moved to Prince’s Risborough, into the bungalow they had decided upon before her death.  He was Catholic, and became very devout, going to church practically every day.

I am glad I got to say goodbye to him before he left this world.  From what I have been told he was ready to go, after a long life which saw him experience a great amount, and he is finally at rest.

I cried for him, and though we did not understand each other, we were nevertheless grandparent and grandchild, and I shall miss him.

Bernard Crawley, 1926-2010