Monday 12 September 2022

The Queen is Undead

Mummy of Lady Rai, nursemaid of Ahmose-Nefertari, herself queen of pharaoh Ahmose, discovered in a Theban Tomb in 1881. End of 17th-beginning of 18th dynasty; now in Cairo Museum. Stolen from Wikimedia Commons.  Queen Ahmose-Nefertari, not looking a day over 3,500

I remember only too well the hysteria after Princess Diana died.

The rank corruption of people who had mocked or despised her, suddenly turned onto its head... The mobs of angry little Englanders demanding not only that the Queen publicly mourn, but on their terms... The disgusting spectacle of making two teenage boys march solemnly behind their mother's coffin, just to sate those utter morons... 

And then there was that deep fear that if you were to say or do 'the wrong thing' your career, and even your well-being, could be in danger.

Monday 6 January 2020

Swamp Thing 2019: Glorious Hokum

"I found Season 2...!"

The Man Thing Swamp Thing franchise has never had much luck. A TV series in the 90s got cancelled in its prime. A crappy cartoon spin-off vanished without a trace. 

The only two successes of sorts were B-movies, the first being directed by Wes Craven in 1982. The other, 1990’s “Return of the Swamp Thing”, was a gloriously camped up cheese fest, much removed from the comic book’s more avant garde, high brow tone.

So it is that the latest attempt to bring ol’ Swampy to a bigger audience has carried on the tradition. As in, it got cancelled right after the first episode's premiere. But did it deserve such a fate? No.

Sunday 29 April 2018

Incel Insanity - An Open Letter to All You Sad, Sad Men

Because Incels love nothing better than a good witch hunt
Image by ღ ♠ Aegir ♠ ღ @ Flickr

Do you know why I hate incels? And by that, I mean, utterly despise them? Because I was lonely, gawky, frustrated and isolated too, but I didn't use that as an excuse to be, frankly, an overly entitled twat.

Every Saturday night, I'd go to a pub, get drunk, hope to get chatted up, and go home disappointed. And do you know what went through my head as I flopped back home up a steep hill? It wasn't that women were all whores, or that I was somehow a neglected genius and hero of my own tale

It was that I was crap, and since they had the right to choose whomsoever they wished, there was a brutal truth being elucidated here. I wasn't what they wanted, and why would they want to choose me anyway? I had no right to anything.

Wednesday 17 May 2017

Trimming the fat off the obesity debate

Sumos vs. Firemen. This happened.

We should always have doubts when the news media claims scientists have conclusive proof one way or another. In part, this is because science does not work that way. Each piece of research is a piece of a far larger puzzle. Often, what the press claim is a major discovery is in fact just a small step in a very long process.

It does not help, of course, that many reporters don't know the first thing about science and have a bad habit of appealing to authority, filing their copy and then heading off down the pub while the subs argue over commas. The problem is, the public don't read many academic journals so rely on scientifically illiterate or alliterate hacks to get their information.

Wednesday 23 December 2015

All Yesterday's Christmases - a trip to the consumerism graveyard

They all stared at us accusingly as we drove into the dump.

I mean the garden ornaments, of course. Faded in the sun and worn by years of exposure, they'd been lined up along the route to the main parking area. I saw any number of owls, gnomes, Rupert The Bears, deer, pigs, badgers, blue tits, lucky wishing wells, Terracotta Soldiers and licensed properties, all watching us like angry exes at a really awkward school disco. 

They'd been arranged there with care by the workers at the dump, or rather, the recycling hub. This was the new name for the place, and it was no longer just somewhere where you went to ditch your crap. It had to be carefully sorted and placed into one of 13 very long, very deep skips - one for plasterboard, one for paper and cardboard, one for plastic, one for electrics and electronics, and broken washing machines...

Sunday 21 July 2013

A melancholy night at the cinema (with The World's End and Pacific Rim)

Often, going to the cinema is a laugh, and for the most part The World's End, the last instalment of Edgar Wright's ice cream trilogy, was fun. It's just that the mid-life crisis angst and oversold comic hooks were a bit worn out and desperate. If the first instalment, Shaun of the Dead, managed to strike a perfect balance between the genre homages, drama and comedy, The World's End was too sledgehammer in execution, like it was overcompensating as it staggered over the finish line.

Throw in a disjointed final act that is unsatisfying precisely because it is so perverse, and the film ends on a sombre note that's a bit too jarring. It does of course pick up all of a sudden in the last scene, but there's something disturbing about the odd belief in sci fi that you have to sweep away the world to save it.

Then there was Pacific Rim. Jesus Christ, what a load of shit. The absurd characters were cut out of cardboard (seriously, there's more life in a Toho sound stage full of scale model buildings), and were, without exception, utterly vile and unsympathetic. After nigh-on two hours, I even wanted the fucking dog to die. The dialogue was beyond parody.

The stars of the show - the big monsters and the big robots - were, meanwhile, obscured by darkness and water for the most part. It makes you wonder quite what it is you're meant to be seeing, as the murk gets in the way of multimillion dollar SFX to the point that it might as well not be there. As a final insult, the film ends with yet another Raid-on-the-Deathstar via Independence Day reset button. I say final, because the entire film spends its duration insulting your intelligence

Throw in a nasty pro-militarism and authoritarian subtext, and a heartless, banal core to the movie, and you have a veritable mountain of kaiju shit falling out of the screen in glorious 3D.

As the credits finally - mercifully - roll, you just have to wonder if directors of any renown should be put out to pasture after a few years, before they start making inadvertent comedies like Prometheus, The Dark Knight Rises and this bulbous turkey. Did the maker of Pan's Labyrinth really crap this one out?

And then there is the soundtrack - DERDERDER-DER-DER! DERDERDER-DER-DER! DERDERDER-DER-DER! It's like a really annoying ringtone, a lot like the rest of the film as it happens.

Having fucked this up, will Legendary do a better job with Godzilla? It's not looking good.

Want to hear the punchline? After watching this cinematic gem, I missed the last bus home.

Monday 17 June 2013

Encounter with a female stag beetle


This morning, while chasing away a Robin that had perched on our clothes horse (they tend to crap wherever they please), I saw a large black object moving some distance away on the ground.

It was a big beetle, and I initially christened what I thought was a 'him' as 'George Harrison' (the only Beatle no one slags off). On closer examination, it turned out to be a female stag beetle, who had a run-in with a cobweb some time before, as you can probably see. 'He' was actually a Georgina, as only males have the famous 'antler' mandible jaws we normally associate with the species.

Seeing that the stag beetle was exposed on the concrete and there were lots of insectivores either flying around or, in the case of our cat, on the prowl, we picked her up and put her on the soil nearby. Then we realised the area we'd put her on was crawling with ants, so we had to pick her up again, all the while worrying we were killing the poor thing with stress.

Then I remembered that stag beetles like hanging around rotting wood, and we had a suitably large, decaying tree stump in our garden too. Finding a nice big crevice to drop the stag beetle into, I was relieved to see she'd survived and, err, beetled off some time later.

Given the time of year, she was probably trying to find somewhere to lay eggs, like - say - a rotting tree stump. Perhaps we'll have stag beetle grubs on our hands soon? I hope so; they are a fast declining species, and it would be sad to see them become rare or even endangered.

So let me end on a top tip. Fill a small bucket with wood shavings and bury it up to the brim in a warm, unobtrusive part of your garden. This provides a ready-made nursery for stag beetles and helps them during breeding season. Don't expect any music, though.

The Queen is Undead

  Queen Ahmose-Nefertari, not looking a day over 3,500 I remember only too well the hysteria after Princess Diana died. The rank corruption ...