“You can’t escape your destiny, which is to fall, helplessly”
Hard science: What Christopher Bidmead wanted to reintroduce to Doctor Who. Judging from the script to Logopolis, hard science consists of millions of chanting monks in a city made to look like a brain, chanting block transfer mathematics codes in order to counteract entropy, while the ghost of someone’s future self tells him the future in order to cause it.
From Andrew Hickey’s excellent lexicon for the 1981 Doctor Who serial ‘Logopolis’, in which Tom Baker’s Doctor (cheekily designated here as the twelfth incarnation) regenerates after a fatal fall from a radio telescope. (Or, as Hickey puts it in his entry on gravity: if you place a Time Lord with an approximate mass of 70kg at the top of a radio telescope, say Jodrell Bank, 89m above a planet with mass 5.972×10^24kg, and then have him let go, he will hit the planet a little over three seconds later.)
‘Logopolis’ and its sequel ‘Castrovalva’ seem to me to be stories that could only be told within the world of Doctor Who, concerned as they are with the manipulation, destruction and reconstruction of the show’s unique central icons: the Doctor and the TARDIS. One could go further and say that another of the show’s unique qualities is its acceptance of and dependance upon this same process of reconstruction.
“Like a nervous random stranger at a glory hole”
A somewhat overdue mixtape, this time featuring music by Black Moth Super Rainbow, Menomena and Sibin.
“Cheap gimmicks and unnecessary tricks”
Pushing the boundaries of what a book is — whether it’s by blurring the lines between different kinds of media or questioning the linear nature of traditional narrative — is not something that people are looking to book publishers to provide. Too much of what we call innovation is basically turning our content into a showroom for device manufacturers — and we do it to the detriment of more important and more useful innovation at the back end of the publishing business.
Joel Naoum of Pan Macmillan’s digital-only imprint Momentum, arguing that publishers are bolting technology onto the wrong parts of their business. Kind of like if the Borg from Star Trek diverted attention from their cube-ship program in favour of giving themselves shiny new genital attachments, but then realised their decreased mobility meant they had no way of getting those genital attachments into the right sockets.
Kind of like that.
My micro life
My micro life: 5:43pm, 23 November 2012
The most disgusting film in the history of arthropod cinema was The Centipede Human.
“When they want to write ‘Clusterfuck!’ in big letters on the front page but can’t because it’s a bit rude they can now reach for an alternative”
The Thick of It is a team-written show. The writers take it in turns to be on set for any last-minute changes that might be wanted… As these scenes tend to already be in pretty good shape, the notes from the creator, Armando Iannucci, at this stage are normally pretty brief… On this particular occasion he was in a hurry and all he said was: Take a look at this.
“The logo of the Mitt Romney / Paul Ryan campaign was a tell-tale sign that it was not going to end well for the Republican candidate and his running mate”
Yves Peters at The FontFeed suspects the writing was on the wall for the 2012 US presidential election as soon as the Romney-Ryan ticket unveiled a campaign logo set in Trajan — a typeface typically associated with antiquity and epic motion picture spectacle, but now relegated to the standard, the inconspicuous default typeface for movie posters.
As such it is now commonly found on collaterals for the lower end of the range in film posters: horror and gore, straight-to-DVD movies, low-budget pseudo-inspirational films, and other B-movie fare. These are certainly not connotations you want to make when you’re trying to win a presidential race. By using Trajan so prominently Romney / Ryan sent out the wrong message to film-savvy voters: We are passé, we are sub-prime, and we will rip out your guts and eat your brains.
“I like the Proustian approach of making a simile 500 per cent as long as the thing it’s describing”
You as the narrative voice put in a simile under the pretext that you’re helping the reader to understand better what something looks like or feels like. In fact, it’s just an excuse to put in a little espresso shot of what you hope is lyrical beauty.
All this self-mythologising isn’t very British, frankly. It is off-putting, too, especially as (the Doctor) was conceived, in 1963, as a dotty old meddler in a time machine that did not work properly. The essence of his charm was that he was not an intergalactic superhero in the Flash Gordon mould, but a wandering eccentric. The programme was a celebration of the nerdy underdog, not the strutting bully-boy that the Doctor has become.
Hits the Dalek right in the eyestalk. (Thanks to @timsterne for the link.)
My micro life
My micro life: 9:12pm, 6 September 2012
I never carry appropriate wet weather protection because I refuse to support the corporate hegemony of Big Umbrella.
My micro life
My micro life: 6:33pm, 6 September 2012
It’s really more of an Inhuman Centipede when you think about it.
Interestingly ‘shit’ was only allowed as a curse, not as a bodily function (all bodily functions were removed at the edit, to make the characters more aspirational). It was only when editing my new, second novel that I asked if I could use even stronger swear words in an extreme situation of peril.
“The unsung heroes – and heroines – of the freak drama are the narrators, because they survive, they keep staggering along, less beautifully, less ornately, more grimy and weary by the day but staggering still”
(It) is something, perhaps, about their entitlement that makes these freaks so unbridled. They have been bred up within the establishment, they know the rules intimately, and so they know, precisely, how to break them. Also, their confidence attracts the less socially secure… from less elevated backgrounds, who are constantly ill at ease in any social situation. Then, the freak emerges — beautifully tailored or, in Withnail’s case, looking somehow stylish even in a sweaty suit he hasn’t changed for months, riddled with aphorisms, squandering their privilege with such sophistication, such intelligence, that it is fascinating to observe.
The Withnail character from the film Withnail & I is compared with F. Scott Fitzgerald’s Jay Gatsby and Evelyn Waugh’s Sebastian Flyte in this examination of the ‘my friend the freak’ genre, in which a first-person viewpoint character narrates the (mis)adventures of another, more compelling, eccentric, self-destructive and generally wildly entertaining character.
“Life ain’t good. But it ain’t bad, next to nothing.”
A new 8tracks mix, featuring music by Magic Trick, Gaz Coombes and The Smashing Pumpkins.