Fewer Tristes and More Soul, Dear...

As the bad pun in the title might have suggested were it more succesful, I went to see Tristan and Isolde tonight with Eruntane, The Doctor (Eruntane's flatmate) and The Other One (the flatmate of mine who is notably not The Green One). It was pretty, had reasonably pleasant music and was based on a tale which clearly had merit, however the actor palying Tristan (and perhaps the writers) forgot to give the character a personality and in general there was just not enough character development to make the love affair depicted particularly believable or worthy of our emotional involvment. We see much of the eponymous characters running off together for the fulfillment of their lusty longings and little reason to believe there was anything more between them. I'd say it was a dissapointment, but I was really expecting much anyway...

In other news I have discovered (through those nice people at U-O) a french band called Kyo who, on hearing one of their tracks (Ce Soir) have quite simply captivated me. I may well have to invest in an album.

Also, a friend asked me to write an English version for said song and since Eruntane's field of expertise lies in French translation, we are going to try working on it together, which should be fun.

Once upon a post...

Today was a random day with some small amount of work, a lot of editing of the Song Challenge thread I started on U-O, a little random NFC posting, the usual SH3 and DQ adventures (I'm now stuck in the former at the same palceI got stuck last time and can't remember how I got past it, very frustrating - as for the latter, more on that in a minute...) and it finished with a foray into the world of Russian choir music.

Eruntane is a member of the University Choral Society and tonight they had a special concert held jointly with Dziannitsa, the Gomel State University Choir from Gomel, Belarus, a city 'twinned' with the 'Deen. Whilst teh Choral Society performed with their usual finesse and were marred only by their director of music, 'The Fat Controller' (possibly the most pretentious man on earth), it was Dziannitsa who really stole the show. Their combination of excellent performances matched with excellent choices of music made listening to them an enchating experience. The three pieces which involved soloists were especially memorable and during once such piece I found myself getting goosebumps at the soaring melody. Wow!

I ended up leaving the cathedral they performed at with a CD of theirs, technically breaking the spending ban, but I wans't going to get another chance to pick it up and it was only £5, so Eruntane at least reckons it's forgivable.

So onto that thing I hinted about in parentheses oh... eight or nine lines ago...

Yes. Dragon Quest. I thought sometime near the start of this game that it had the air of a Fairy Tale about it. Telling a friend this opinion he said "Wait until you get to Ascantha". I had no diea when the reaching of this mysterious distant location would occur, but I was intrigued. Did he mean the plot kicked off here, or was it more directly related to my 'Fairy Tale' comment?

It turned out the latter was the case, as I discovered when I arrived at Ascantha yesterday afternoon. Here was a peaceful kingdom, as declared by the windy roads, cows and pretty castle, turned into one big funeral wher everyone wears black, children stay indoors and the afformentioend castle is draped in black veils. We soon discover that the King has been in mourning for the dead Queen for two years now and the entire kingdom must do the same. A fairy tale set up if ever there was one.

The plot obviously its there for us to resolve and you sned your characters on a little quest, diverting attentiona way from the main problem of an evil jester-mage who's going around killing people, and visiting a strange world of moonlight before finally setting the kingdom to rights. It was all very charming without ever seeming too childish and through the slightly overdone dialogue towards the end some very valid points were made about the strength of the hum character, however it really got me thinking about our love of fairy tales.

We never quite grow out of them, do we? We often think that we should, but there is something about the fable, parable, myth and legend of a fairy tale that stays with us. Sure most fairy tales these days have become overly sanatised lumps of romantic schmoltz, but at the heart of a good fairy tale is the ability to inspire, to relate to the characters (in the most fleeting, yet prfound ways) and even to haunt. To be honest I'm not sure what draws us to them, but I do know they are capitvating and worth spending time reading and iamgining and creating. The day we truly tire of fairy tales will be a sad one indeed, one to shame even Ascantha's weeping King.

Three was not the magic number, heres hoping for...

Four!

Four days and nothing of excitement to post about.

I haven't even had any interesting thoughts lately, bar those that revolve around the Silent Hill series and I'm sure you're vored of hearing about that by now...

Today was a dull day of booklet making (for CWS) and overly complicated equations (for a stupid sediment particle tracers lecture, ugh. I did write a piece inspired by an SH3 OST track title which was going to become a world in my novel at some point. Maybe I'll did it ouy and type that up.

[rummages]

Ah, here it is!

Brass Petals

The roots plunge into the softly shimmering earth. Put your ear to them, hear the flow of life beneath the worn copper surface, how they pulse and echo.

Look up. See how the leaves shimmer in the fading light, how their roughly hewn sheen matches the tuneless chime of their collisions.

Run your hands through the earth and feel how the sharp razors fade to dust and filings at your touch. Something crawls between your fingers, a glint of light on its carapace. Crush it if you can and feel the slick of oil on your fingertips.

Stand up. Feel the rigid blades of past windfalls digging into your boots. Hear the creak of metal fatigue as you shift your weight and turn towards the the sunset, mirrored in beaten trunk facets a thousand times over.

At the edge, stop. Feel the slice of the wind through your hair, hear the echo of the forest ringing in your ears as it passes through and see the fields of brass petals as they shiver and shimmer in its wake.

Watch the sun descend and the world go dark around you, then turn to see the coal fires burning in the canopy and the orange haze of smoke above. Feel the petals fraying your jeans more and more as you brush against them with each step and hear, past the blood pulsing in your ears, the march of the machines in the distance.

Listing...

Wow, exciting days come in threes it seems. There really is very little of worth to say about today, but I shall waffle on about it anyway. I can list pretty much everything I did right here:

• Got up.
• Made a new MP3 CD with the FFXI OST on it, some FF remixes (incl. the fantastic fan-made Majestic Mix) and a selection of the songs from Silent Hills 1, 3 and 4 (2's OST isn't saved on my hard drive).
• Went into University where I chatted with people, had lunch with Eruntane (delightful as always with the added benefit of sunshine and amusing squabbles between the pidgeons and the gulls), and read abstracts and articles about the now infamous Endothermic Fish.
• Eventually made it home and recorded a song by PANIC! At the Disco, which someone had challenged me to sing.
• Consequently I started a Song Challenges thread and, because I was bored and because it's becoming an obsession at the moment, started a Silent Hill clan as well. U-O must be so delighted to have me as a member...
• Played several hours of Dragon Quest, getting lost (and loving every minute of it) in the vast game world.
• Finally watched this weeks episode of Dr. Who, which was much better than last week's and which shamelessly tied in to the new BBC spin off series, Torchwood.
• Had a fantastic Caesar Salad.
• Played several hours of Silent Hill 3, which is making much more sense this time around as I've been rather immersed in the SH mythos of late and thus can understand the plot (unlike the film, which makes less and less sense the more I think about it...)
• Wrote this blog.

Actually on the theme of that penultimate bulletin point, I did do one other thing today, which was to send SH Director, Christophe Gans a few questions regarding his film in the hopes that he might continue his production diaries a little longer. Perhaps the fact that I signed my name as "Chris G." might encourage him to respond? One can only hope and time will tell in the end...

A little Tome Raiding...

Apologies for the brevity of yesterday's update, but it was another Non-day, with really nothing of note happening bar my re-watching of Silent Hill and replaying of Silent Hill 3. not that today was that much more exciting. I did some "work" on my review essay, you know, the one on Endothermic Fish I hate so much. This "work" of which I speak actually consisted of reading one journal article and then spending a good hour posting in NFC - Absolute.

I had fun making that post because it involed a side-character I had hardly used on his own (he had always been part of a double act) and it also introduced, indirectly, a character who may or may not appear in the story, but who is interesting nonetheless. Her name is Layla Trevakhas, Countess of Mideel, a small island with a reasonably long and proud history, although such titles as Countess are reasonably meaningless in a world ruled by one corporation. She is an adventurer, making her way through ruins and exploring the apst to unearth great treasures and dark secrets. Sound familiar? Of course it does, she's a complete rip off of Lara Croft, but since Lara is such an interesting character when sh'e's done right I don't see any harm in exploring an NFC-safe version of her. Besides her kind of adventuring sits right at home on Ouranos where the planet's history is always coming back to bite us.

Anyway, that's about all there is to say about today. Sad huh? Maybe tomorrow will prove more thought provoking?

Silencing the Press.

I watched SH again this evening. It still doesn't really make sense. I think I'll go back to the games...

Of Lions, Lime and Literature...

Odd day. Was at work. There were no customers, well relatively and nothing to do as we had done it all yesterday when there was a similarly poor consumer turn out. Afterwards I flaked a bit and chatted to people online about the band I will one day create and who will be in it (working title for it now is the wonderful conceited Seraph).

Spent some more time pondering Silent Hill and am no better off than I was before. I had very weird dreams in a night of fitful sleep as a result (although very few of the dreams related to SH and none were actually nightmares - one even revolved around me playing TLR!). I think I want to see it again, soonish, perhaps on my own, but I'm not sure.

The evning was full of pistaccio (sp?) nuts and weirdness of the silly game variety as we played Ex Libris at the flat of the Heckler, with many a fine person Eruntane and I know not nearly as well as we should.

For those unfamiliar with the game it involves a person readin out the title author and synopsis of a novel which everyone else must then write either the first or last line of. The real first or last line is thrown in with the lot and people have to guess which it is. Hilarity ensues.

In tonights version there was much emphasis placed on Lions, Limes, Lamposts, Big Boat Bang creationism, and period-drama undergarments. Soemtimes, I really do love my life.

Caught Between Worlds...

Last night I said that the review situation for SH had become complicated. There were lots of critics who hated it, lots of fans who loved it, some critics who loved it and some fans who hated it. Confusing. I figured, as I was a fan, I was likely to be polarised towards loving it. Strangely, in a world so full of love it or hate reviews, I find I'm very much in the middle, stuck in 'foggy' Silent Hill, if you will. Here's why:
The film tried to do a lot of things. Some were very succesful, for example: 'Pyramid Head' was incredible, terrifying, powerful, a symbol of judgement. Some were less succesful, for example: 'Pyramid Head' thrown in with no build up, stripped of his meaning even as he epitomised it by the changed plotline, and failed to be explaiend at all (although like in the games his "purpose" in the films is hinted at, it just doesn't make much sense to me.
Another succesful thing: the effects; wow! Silent Hill was made real on screen. Incredible. Got a bit boring after a while though as they only really brought to life some aspects, and left alot of the diversity out. Well not boring as such, but there was room for improvement, so we'll call that one a minor niggle. besides there was clever references aplenty from the street names to familiar locations, obstacles and items.
Another failure: the plot; god! Actually god is the key word as this is a central concept which the plot revolves around and the film seems to have let it slip off its hinges. The cult which SH has had running for years seems to have changed its position since I last encountered them, because now they seem to want to kill someone to stop the darkness, not unite that person so that they can bring it about.
Ok, enough with the itemised list. I could go on for ages but it's easier to just say it all straight. I liked the film, but they changed a lot more than I expected and soemtimes they showed too much, an asset in a game when you are the character and you're field of view is limited anyway, a failing in the cinema when you detach from the character and see carnage that might have been more effective left to the imagination. The music was good, (yay to Akira Yamaoka) but I feel could have been used more effectively. The exposition near the end was lengthy, dull and lead to a morally ambiguous final event which doesn't fit with SHs philosophies at all (yes, SH says we all have light and dark, but the film seems to say some are evil some are good and some evil things are good as well.... which just confuses the whole issue beyond sense).
My biggest bugbear, and this still hinges on the plot, is that the central theme of SH has stepped away from internal issues of self-judgement and guilt as embodied by SH2, and has become a revenge story. Alessa was magically transformed into Sadako (even to the point of mimicking her motions climbing out of the well in one scene), and though Gans wanted to make an SH2 movie, he has concotced a new plot that ultimately would make a nonsesne of SH2 set up. Could James and co. really be caleld to SH because of a little girl's revenge?
The fact that Ring has influenced this film so clearly is perhaps inevtiable, but it seems to me a greta shame. I love the Ring series, but it and SH are different styles of horror and to have one bleed so much into the other is a sad thing.
I will buy this when it comes out on DVD, I'll watch it and I'll enjoy it again, but it's not really Silent Hill anymore, it's a hybrid. Maybe a sequel will take us back to the heart of it all, but this one seems to be dneying even that. Still Gans' commentary should be interesting...

2 Oils or 3?

Sushi, as we westerners know it, is a wonderful thing. Now I don't really like fish, or at least I didn't, but the tiny morsels of it wrapped up in seawed and attached so lovingly to a small brick of rice is just teh right balance of fish to other that I can't help but love it, especially once you add Soy and Teriyaki sauces (aka as glue when you don't add enough soy sauce and sake). As a result I am slowly developing a taste for fish in it's more usual form and this can only be a good thing, "they" say, as they contain Omega 6 and 3 oils (although whetehr that means two oils called Omega 6 and Omega 3 or a substance called Omega 6 and then three oils which aren't worthy of naming, I haven't quite decided - linguistic ambiguity, ha!).

This evening was a bit random actually. There was the afformentioned parcels of ricey fish, there was profiteroles and brioche for desert and then there was silly games leaping from Ligretto (and lots of it) through Guitar Hero and Singstar Rocks! to Mario Party. Fun was had by all, but we were rather sleepy at the end.

In other news further SH reviews have surface and the picture has got a little more complicated. Still what I've seen has me excited and by the time I blog again tomorrow I'll have seen it and my own review, good or bad, shall be plastered here for all to see, preferably in more detail than my previous reviewing attempts.

A Silent Crescendo

I am a pathetic excuse for a human being right now as I've just read this and these and my excitement for Silent Hill, the new movie, is reachign levels at which I cannot possibly be satisfied.

A little background:

If you are not familiar with it, Silent Hill is a video game that took the "survival horror" genre pioneered in games like Alone in the Dark and Resident Evil (both of which notably have been adapted to the cinema screen with rather poor quality films) and turned it into a work of art. The story concerns a guy called Harry Mason who is taking his daughter, Cheryl, on holiday to the resort town of Silent Hill. They arrive late at night. There is thick fog everywhere. Harry catches a glimpse of a little girl in the middle of the road. He swerves to avoid her and they crash. When he wakes up it is light, there is still fog and something like snow falling all around. Cheryl is nowhere to be seen, in fact, no one is.

And so begins Harry's journey through the seemingly deserted town of Silent Hill to find his daughter. At first it's just fog and strange creatures wandering the streets, then suddenly a siren wails and the world goes dark, then the walls turn to flesh and rust and the streets to metal mesh. Clearly something is not right in this town.

I wont spoil the plot of the game or movie by going any further, but the style of the game was unlike anything we'd seen before. Once you've experienced what is commonly reffered to as 'dark' Silent Hill, your ideas about Hell might be like change forever. And there's more to it than just an aesthetic. Silent Hill is a story about the parent-child relationship, about the demons in us all and about the corrupting influence of mankind.

'Dark' Silent Hill is a supernatural creation, but it consists entirely of man-made elements; fans, meshing, rusting metal, dust sheets and sirens. Even the supernatural elements of the story are anthropogenic. the town acts as a commentary for the human condition. 'Real' silent hill, or perhaps the physical 'Silent Hill' is described as a likeable place, a resort on a lake, relaxing and the kind of place a father would take his daughter on holiday (admittedly at her request). 'Foggy' Silent Hill takes us deeper inside. It's cold and lonely. You can't see very far, it's a sort of neutral no space, dangerous, yes, but there are allies to be found there as well. 'Dark' Silent Hill is deeper still and it's here that the real demons are to be found. Allies become enemies, things you thought were true become subverted or are removed completley.

In Silent Hill 2, arguably the best in the series, these elements are stretched further. No longer is the story trying to explain why the town is the way it is, so much as why you are called to be there, why you experience it that way. It is a tale about guilt, and about hidden truth, and ultimately about self-judgement and the escape from that. It is the human condition, stripped and dissected so that we might see those parts of it we ourselves are trying to hide. No wonder it's scary, but it is also, I believe, cathartic and I hope, one day, it might even be considered as an important piece of art, if only because it took a relatively young medium to a much higher level than ahd ever beeen seen before.

The film can be your gateway. Some things have changed (SH is no longer a resort town it seems) but it seems like the director's been faithful to the source material and I cannot wait to see how the aesthetics and philosophies of my favourite piece of horrific real estate appears on a big screen.

Oh and apologies to Eruntane who thought I was going to talk about the Aberdeen University Creative Writing Society. I did too. Oh well, maybe tomorrow.

Singstar does what now? Oh, yes, it does indeed!

An odd day. I was supposed to go into Uni, but didn't, opting for a lie-in and a chance to work on my new song instead. The day then turned into a singing session of a different kind as the Green One returned home from a trip into town with Singstar Rocks! and we were soon duetting and competing for scores over such great musical works as Speed of Sound by Coldplay, Run by Snow Patrol and Come As You Are by Nirvana. All too soon however it was time to go to work and I spent the evening clearing out a corridor and sorting out stock to the sounds of Shiina Ringo, Ayumi Hamasaki and Utada. My attempts to convert my workmates to the joys of J-Pop are usually fairly unsuccessful but this evening I was at least being asked productive questions about what was being played. It's a start.

2 days until Silent Hill!!!

It's a little bit funny...

I want a band. No, I need a band.

This last week I've been getting into recording myself singing various songs to post in a thread on U-O where we all just have fun singing along to things and giving generally positive feedback to each other. I became addicted, then I made a recording of me performing MONOKROME DAYZ, a song I wrote for Darksyde (Remember the novel? Sometimes I wonder if I even do!). Then I remembered how I used to write songs all the time. This morning, in a very boring lecture about feeding in marine mammals, I wrote another song (currently without melody) and I realised that I could really enjoy being a singer/songwriter, if I had a band.

What would I call my band? I've been thinking about this entirely hypothetical question for most of the day and I have no idea. I could be shamelessly self-promoting (again) and name it after a character I'd written or some amusing plot point, but that would be pretentious injokeyness of the worst kind. I'd often thought the Empty Vs would be a good name as well, but not for the kind of music I have in mind. Anyway I'll get back to you on this (feel free to post any suggestions you have in the comments).

In related news a friend of mine (I think I can call him that) from Sweden has apparently made a guitar arrangement for the aforementioned MONOKROME DAYZ, so that's cool. He hasn't let me hear it yet, but here's hoping.

What else has happened today? I played more Dragon Quest, I arranged what I was going to do for a project on bioluminesence and I found out that I'm working tomorrow. Is it any wonder I resort to recording my voice?

(Tell me why) I don't like Non-days!

Today has been a sort of stressful non-day. Perhaps there's a reason Monday and non-day are only two letters appart in spelling? There was no real reason for it to be stressful mind you. I just experienced a moment of horror last night when I realsied there was some work I needed to do very soon and hadn't started and that feeling rode along on the waves of anxiety into today. It's silly really. I put so little effort into my course work sometimes, at least since this year began anyway. It's like I can see the finish and I know I don't really care too much about crossing that particular line anytime soon, so I just sort of give up.
I was talking about this feeling today with one of my fellow zoology/marine biology students and she compeltely agreed. We have work, and it needs doing because it does count for the final degree, but it just doesn't feel like it should, especially after we had our theses to do last term ratehr than this. It feels like we've had the main act on already and now we're just getting bored of the support bands.
I don't want to make myself sound like a 'special case', but as someone who no longer really intends to anything scientific, least of all zoological, after University finally ends, it all feels a bit pointless. Gathering together the energy to do what needs to be done is just a little harder than it should be. I have so many Journal articles to catch up on reading and a review essay to write as well as revision for our final three exams and this huge part of me in the back of my head is screaming but what's the point!?, and to make matters worse, I know what the point is, but it just doesn't seem to make any difference.
I've had this conversation with just about everyone now, and it doesn't seem to improve the situation any by repeating it. I guess I just have to find the energy somewhere and get on with it, but getting on with it was never a skill I had in great measure...
To continue the theme of direness, Eruntane has got herself (or rather Easyjet have got her) trapped in Edinburgh for the night. Apparently her Bristol-Edinburgh plane was delayed 3 hours due to a technical fault and when she finally got the sandstone capital of bonnie Scotland she had mssed her train. She is now spending the night in a B&B the afformentioned airline may or may not be paying for and getting a train tomorrow at 4am! She's not impressed and I can't say I am either.
In tones less doom hued, (that's a mixed on the spot metaphor if ever there was one, but hey, it's late-ish) I spent a lot of the less stressful portions of today playing Dragon Quest: Journey of the Cursed King, or Dragon Quest VIII as it ought to be known. That game is just so endearing, from the comdedy bad guys (A giant squid called Khalamari is currently playing off against Ultros from FFVI as the most bizarre Cephalopod to appear in a video game) to the engaging and likeable characters and then beyond to the vast, colourful, beauitful world. It's great, I'm hooked. If the Green One goes ahead and returns it like he's suggesting I'll have to purchase it as well as TRL when May comes along. Plus to make it a tend day return I'll have to miss out on a week of playing! I suppose I could just pay him for it next month... hmmm...
Anyway, such was the extent of my day, really. As I said, a sort of non-day, but then, aren't they all...

Normal Service Will Be Resumed Shortly...

Not a lot to say about today.
There was church, and an amusing sermon about general ressurection (that's the one for you and me, around judgment day time, note it in your calendars under Some Time Soonish By Eternal Standards) in which a small child was threatened with poisoned milk and death by drowning, but only because he seemed awfully willing to accept it.
There was me singing badly to my friends and acquaintances on Utada-Online (have fun finding the file, cos I'm not linking to it).
There was religious discussion after a fine lunch of roast pork which all got a bit deep and yet effectively moved us nowhere, but did give me somethings to ponder over.
And finally there was the returning of large portions of ym DVD colelction from a regular lendee, known only as The Heckler. He left us as he arrived, burdened with volumes of the X-Files and other television series, but not before enlightening us with his charm and wit (hopefull he'll be reading this, so it's really up to him as to whether that previous statement was sarcasm or not).
Other than that, not very eventful.
Sorry.

I listen to Longwave Radio Atlantic 252, now gimme some money!

Actually, I don't. I used to however. A long, long time ago, when Take That were despised by boys everywhere and mobile phones were something brick-shaped only rich adults could own. I am talking of course of the early 90s. LW 252 was my first and favourite radio station until the era of Britpop came around and ruined everything for me. I then went on a sort of Radio strike until the end of the decade when I decided that Radio One would do instead. Britpop had passed by then and, funnily enough, I no longer hated the genre anyway. C'est la vie.
Anyway I only mention it because Eruntane's brother was playing Would I Lie to You this morning, a one hit onder of a song which came out enar the beginning of my 252 phase. You don't hear about that station much anymore, considering it used to be, supposedly, the nation's favourite. Oh well.
Anyway that has nothing to do with my day, really. Most of today was spent missing Dr. Who and travelling by plane [bus] and automobile up to the 'Deen so that I can return to Uni on Monday, whilst Eruntane resides at her home a little longer. The journey was long and tiring and has left me with surprisingly little to say, besides I'm aware that the afformentioned Dr. has been recorded and the tape sits behind me... hmmm....

A Knot of Crossed-Ones

Yes, I know, the title is a little tenuous in its wordplay, but then I wouldn't have it any other way. What it refers to is that which was promised yesterday, ie. more Anglican fun. In this case however it really was fun. We got up this morning and took a leisurely walk into the centre of Taunton to join other Christians in a "walk of witness" which involved walking in silence down the high street, carrying wooden crosses before having a few minutes of worship and prayer before a larger cross implanted at the end of said street. There was then church-going, resulting in a Good Friday service (I have no idea if it was a normal one or not as I have never been known to do anything for Easter, heathen that I am) and the plying of tea and coffee and Hot Crossed Buns in our general direction. Suitably Coffeed and Bunned we then had to return to the cross in the town centre for a silent vigil which lasted half an hour.

Those were the events, here, the experiences:

I wasn't exactly looking forward to this. I had no real idea what to expect, but I felt that I should do it, whether I really wanted to or not. This is not to say that I felt God particularly wanted me to, more that He'd be pleased that I gave it a try, or something like that. So on I went and as we stood waiting for the WoW to make a move and crosses were handed out I found myself gathering my nerves together in a bag and preparing to beat them visciously with a pointed stick. I was very uncertain as to what I had signed myself up for and I was terrified that someone would hand me a cross. Fortunately, when a cross was received it was Eruntane who took it and I then experienced that unique kind of guilt you get when you realise it really was supposed to have been given to you (well, ideally). We chatted and milled a bit and, when we finally moved off in silence, I (hopefully) graciously took it off her and carried it the rest of the way. I'm very glad that I did.

The walk was uncomfortable not, as I had feared, because I was walking up a High Street carrying a big wooden cross along with a bunch of other like minded people, reminding them that such like minds should be kept safely behind padded bars, but rather because I am a lanky sort of fellow and the walk was a slow, small steps sort of affair my legs had trouble adjusting to. The actual passersby and onlookers factor was less important to me than I had throught and I instead found myself ignroing them and thinking more and more about the cross I bore as I walked. It felt quite ritualistic and traditional, but not in bad way as so many rituals do. It made me understand why religious traditions are so popular in most other countries and why it is a shame that we, as a nation, seem to be impoverished of them (not that I am condoning all religious traditions, just the peaceful ones). It also helped me to feel more Christian, whilst concious that I was only doing such a thing for God, rather than for myself.

The silent vigil at the cross was another thing I thought I would hate, but instead I just stood there, switching between holy thoughts and those more mundane as I listened to the world go by, feeling genuinely at peace and glad that I was there, with other Christians, making an understated, but powerful scene.

More so than ever before, I realised that, at least sometimes, I am not ashamed of the Gospel.

Taunted in Taunton

Today, as I perused the various stores of Taunton, I found myself inexorably lured (and ever so slightly pushed) towards a display Xbox 360 upon which a version of Tomb Raider: Legend was left running. I couldn't resist and, as I mentioned before, I was ever so slightly pushed by Eruntane. She seemed, uncharacteristically to be encouraging me towards something which I said I would and indeed should not do this month. Admittedly I think she just knows how much I love this series and saw an opportunity for me to enjoy it for free. For that I am grateful, however, five minutes (well about two) in front of this game, playing the final part of a section I have already experienced several times over (on a demo) and only going far enough beyond this to see a single cutscene, was enough to leave me feeling tormented for the next half hour. It didn't help that the version I played, on Microsoft's afformentioned shiny (literally) new next-gen console, was, visually, one of the most beautiful things I have ever seen.

Seriously, I was impressed by the PS2 version's visuals, the lush landscape, with realistic looking vegatation, water effects and ruin, but once you add the texture and lighting power of the Xbox360 it takes on a level of detail and realism which is just beyond anything I've experienced so far. It was enough to leave me feeling that I needed a console upgrade. Those of you who concerned for my bank balance need not fear yet, however; there are hardly any other games out for MS's little demon box I care for, so I won't be drawn to the dark side just yet and my balance shall rejoice in it's, er, balancedness.

I have been informed, after making the obvious Taunton pun, that I must explain that the origin of the Taun part of the town's name comes from the name of its river, the Tone. Sound changes occured. Deal with it.

Aside from visting the town centre, we also ventured into the local hills, the Quantocks, and enjoyed a brief and bracing (it was windy) walk around them. I'm not the greatest fan of truly open coutnryside, I tend to be more fond of valleys and forests than hilltops and moors, but it was great to be out in the fresh air having my ability to judge the horizon well and truly messed up. Also there were wild ponies, not something I've experienced before. One of them stared at us in such a fascinating manner that I could have stood there all day staring back and exchanging the sort of prfound non-information that one does with wild animals. Wonderful.

The afternoon was ended with Cream Tea in what I am told is greatest teahouse for such things in England. I can well agree. A scone with cream and jam, accompanied by a nice cup of coffee after commun(icat)ing with nature was better than I could have ever imagined, and the experience was made even more pleasant by good conversation and one of the most adorable little dogs in creation (obligatorily named Pip or Pippin or some-such) who decided to become my friend in a surprisingly touching manner just before we left. He was quite the host.

The evening was spent at Church. I'm not the biggest fan of the way Anglican's do things. This is not to say that I think they are doing things the wrong way, just the wrong way for me. I am well aware that the Anglican methods work fantastically for many people, Eruntane included, but I just have trouble getting past the formalities to the belief. This is most probably a failing of mine. I can struggle, quite often, with the really simple things about faith. When it comes to communion, as it did this evening, I have to really prepare myself and let myself think about why it is we do it, what makes it important and making sure I udnertsand, as I believe I should, that it is just as symbol, an act of rememberance. When I am led with litanies and replies I find myself swept up in a chorus of voices and I struggle to remember what my own voice is and how I really feel about it. That only distances me from the experience rather than focuses me as I have heard others claim. Still it was good to experince it again and to have some fellowship of one kind or another with other Christians at a time of year that I, as a member of a non-christian family, have often neglected.

Tomorrow there is more such drama. I'll explain when we get there.

The Zomerzet Zs (not a band name, but maybe it should be)

I am now typing this update from the delightful home of Eruntane's family in the South Western corner of the country (Great Britain that is, not Northern Ireland). There has been good food (in quantities that are somewhat less than a Seraphim family stomach-full, but which are lovely nonetheless) pleasant company (always desirable) and a generally relaxed atmosphere conducisve to card playing, board games and hopefully, soon, sleep.
Oh and typing up blogs at a leisurely pace.
Sadly such a pace is not greatly useful for leading me to think blog-worthy thoughts, at least not considering I've been up since some un-god-of-sensible-hours-ly hour. I did however get a chance to post some more chain fiction (further epic disasters included) in which I was able to give my lead character, the troubled and anti-social Glyph, a brief moment of true revelation. For a mere instant he had what in another story would have been his epilogue. It was, as far as he could see, a perfect victory and, since his thoughts have somewhat been turned around in the last few days, he relishes it as a new start, only to discover events still have a rough and winding course still to follow.
It was qutie an enjoyable post from that extent. I tend to be a bit sadistic with my characters (masochism and sadism? It's the soft furnishings all over again...) i.e. the more I care for them the more horrible the things they must experience before the not-guaranteed-to-be-happy ending. So despite the fact that this post was overall infitting with my characterisation policy, it was a nice change to have at least half of it devoted to a genuinely positive character moment.
I think Glyph may well be the most rewarding chain fiction character I've written so far as a result, but we'll see where the flow takes us.
In other news, I (somewhat guiltily) read my flatmate's blog this evening and discovered that he seems to be going stir crazy up there in the 'deen. Such is my influence: I keep others sane.

Who am I kidding?

ZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZzzzzzzz.................

A Post of Epic Proportions

Today was a quiet day of neccesary clothes shopping, handheld console price-checking to help me decide if I want a replacement DS or a shiny new PSP (if some are to be believed, this is a decision between a piece of technology and the path to transcendence) and general laziness. None of this is really blog worthy news.
Instead I feel compelled to talk about something that occured to me about my writing of Chain Fiction, or more specifically, New Fantasy Chronicles - Abolute (Chronicle IV) as found here. Last night, after updating here, I went on to post a large revelatory post describing major, dramatic events happening across Ouranos, our fictional planet, the stage of so much story-crafting and, ultimately, the single most important and well loved character of the series.
The events I described involved several large, fantastic creatures materialising over the world's major cities as a prelude to a war between such creatures. As they appeared they caused various kind of chaos, inbcluding a tidal wave and airships colliding with skyscrapers.
I'm sure, possible reader, that you are thinking now of the tidal waves of South East Asia last year and the World Trade Centre incident of 2001, or at least, now that I've reminded you, you're drawing up the similarities in your mind.
I thought about them too, but only after I wrote them. I merely wrote that which was logical for the events I was describing: the tidal wave was the logical way to introduce a giant whale-like creature and demonstrate its catastrophic effect on the city it had appeared at; the airship collisions were the logical consequences of said conveyances being batted out of the sky by another creature over one of the largest and most highly developed cities on the planet. In both cases I wrote the event and then thought, "I can't do that! No one will let me get away with it!" and then I posted them anyway, unedited.
No one complained, not that we have the largest readership in the world (current total, 4, maybe 5) so what's my point?
Well there are two things that I'm led to think about here: how disasters like the tidal waves and 9/11 affect our ability to stomach anything similar in fiction and how fascinated I am by disasters in general.
There is a reference to 9/11 contained within Stephen King's final volume of his magnum opus, The Dark Tower. It is a brave move and one which, when I read it, made me think exactly the same things as I did with regards to my post. The more I think about it though, the more I believe he did the right thing. We can't limit literature or storytelling just because the area it may venture into is a sensitive one. Sure, care needs to be taken, offence and upset can be caused, but if we steer clear of such areas utterly then literature's incredible power to explore the human condition, the world around us and the way we live in it is seriously hampered. It is through literature, through telling stories and relating to characters that we can work through the traumas and tragedies, joys and jubilations of the lives we lead, and that includes disasters, in fact I am led to believe that this is where fiction has a unique advantage.
Real disasters and tragedies always leave the survivors thinking that what they have just experienced isn't real. Most of us never experience such things and we believe that we are never likely to. Fiction enables us to enter a world of such improbability and, as we do, we can work through it and learn from it.
I think my fascination with disasters is sort of the opposite of this process. I have always loved the epic. I always long for a sense of scale greater than the one I am currently given. I want a bigger picture, a wider view. As a result I've always been a fan of fantasy fiction. It allows me to reach into places, via my imagination, that I could never reach otherwise. I get granted vistas, indeed whole layers of understanding, that I would never have had before. The disaster, as long as it is a distant event, is something my imagination longs to penetrate in this way. To me, having not experienced of the sort, the thrills and horrors of such things and how they effect the people who experience them fires my imagination and makes me want to know more.
In many ways there's a lot that's positive about this, but I'm always left slightly concerned by my desire to see greater and greater events happening in the world around me. Of course I don't want people to suffer or die. I dont really want the stability of my world to crumble around me, or around anyone else, but part of me secretly longs for that sense of fantastic scale to erupt into the world around us.
So, I guess that's why I write things like the post I wrote last night. It's a kind of catharsis for me and, I hope, it can be a similar catharsis for my readers. Many of us long to experience such drama, for whatever reasons, and maybe, if we keep it contained to fiction, we can reduce the amount we create them and can improve the way we handle them.

Hmm...

I think that was several dollars, never mind 2c.

Sweeping Statements

Operation "Introduce Eruntane to Northern Ireland" went into its second day quite succesfully. Instead of heading northwards along the coast like yesterday, we ventured inland a bit and skirted Strangford Lough southwards towards the intriguingly named Kingdom of Mourne (which probably doesn't have a King, but if it did would have to be an old, bearded man, living alone with four sheep, two dogs and possibly a crown made of heather). Far from being some sort of fantasy land filled with Orcs, Elves and bearded men of the kind who tend to have more affinity with eagles and trees than sheep and dogs, Mourne is in fact a mountainous region of South Down, made famous by a song which claims that said mountains "sweep down to the sea". We wound our way around these impressive landmarks and enjoyed the remote and picturesque scenery, where we were as likely to see a reservoir as a house. Entertainment was further derived from admiring sheep and lambs (or LEMZ as I have inexplicably begun to call them) and catching breathtaking glimpses of the Irish Sea.

N.B// The Mountains of Mourne never really seemed to sweep down to the sea so much as end abruptly at it. The only sweeping seems to be that performed by Tulleymore Forest Park as it descends the side of Slieve Donard (the tallest of the mountains) into the attractive (and ice-cream fuelled) town of Newcastle (britain's other, other Newcastle) where we finished our tour and had food of the delicious variety in a restaurant named after the man who wrote the afformentioned song, returning home to relearn from foggy memory, the wonderful game of Spit.

On a completely side-note to this half-hearted attempt at a post, I was supposed to explain, yesterday, why I called my post on Saturday "Soft Furnishings". There are two simple reasons:

1) Home here in NI is all about such comforts.

2) I called myself a masochist and it just so happens that in Bangor, a town just up the coast from here, there is a wonderful furniture store which goes by the name of S&M furnishings. Of course my masochism and this store's name are entirely unrelated, I'm merely advertising a local institution. Really I am.

Standing on the Causeways of Giants

So today Eruntane, the parental units and I headed northwards along the Antrim coast to meet up with my sister and brother-in-law in Coleraine. From there we ventured down to what might possibly be the world's oldest jigsaw puzzle: the ancient geological wonder that is the Giant's Causeway.

First Impressions: The sun had vanished and the the Antrim cliff-tops were windy and drab. Leaving my father behind the remaining five of us followed the badly tarmaced road downhill, avoiding the mini tourist bus which crawled past us every five minutes (the driver talking to her kidnapped passengers with somwhat maniacal force - apparently she had once driven more respectable Ulsterbus services and done just the same - still I imagine her verbose approach to public transport is more appropriate at a world heritage site than on the high street, just past Boots). At the bottom we were greeted by a smallish outcropping of rock which barely revealed its unusual geometry until you were right upon it, having passed the little revolving rock-shaped sign which divulged educational information, concealed in short, sharp statements and swamped in pictures, just in case the kids got bored after 'the'.
To be honest, it was slightly dissapointing. I had memories of the Causeway from school trips back in my Primary Education days and they were much more impressive than the sight/site I was greeted with. Still we clambered up the step-like geology and made our way out along a promontrory jutting out into a slightly tamer than usual sea. And there, as the wind forced me to retire into the depths of my hoodie, I realised why it was such a popular destination. The view was incredible. The sea, the strange rocks, the coastline stretching on around a misty corner, the mythology that turned an odd lump of rock into a giant's boot and a series of strange strata in a cliff into an organ. It all added up to make a magical place, perhaps a little drained of it's charms by the wheather, but one of the wonders of the North Coast nonetheless.
To add to the wonder, those memories which had left me feel briefly cheated upon our arrival then began to fuel my interest "Oh yes, there was a certain number of sides they kept asking us to remember" I began to ramble nonsensically, "It's all about how they cooled, I think", I continued once Eruntane raised her own questions, and then soon I was ranting on about the myth and the geology (after a brief information top-up from the aformentioned rolling edutainment rocks) and enjoying every minute of it. Even the steep wall back up to the visitors centre was enjoyable (I moaned, but then that's half the fun) and afterwards we had a fantastic (if served by zombies) lunch at the Causeway Hotel. The discovery of mint Aero cheescake proved there is almost nothing you can't make a cheescake out of. It was great!

Today was also of note as I got to visit my brother and sister-in-law (having the same first name as my original sister) and their dogs. When I left at Christmas, they had two, the same two we had had when I first left for university. Bandit, the older dog, is the most pathetic beast ever to stalk the earth (and easily the most adorable) and Miko, the other one, is all bounce and love and absolutely no sense. Now however I discovered a newcomer, rug-furred, monster-pawed, young Jack, who tried his best to have Bandit's good looks and Miko's bounce. He mostly succeeded and also managed to leave me pinned to the floor as Eruntane watched on giggling. I didn't get to know him well, but he seemed a fine addition to the family dog collection. Welcome aboard pup!

Soft Furnishings

Well here I am posting this message back home in Northern Ireland, being ever so slightly dazed by the numerous changes that have occured to my pre-uni environs since I was last here (for a few days at Christmas - the best I could do with the rather heavy schedule of retail work).
It's warm (unlike Aberdeen), there's plenty of food (unlike Aberdeen) and the only way i'm getting taunted by TRL is by reading posts about it on the message board. I'm a masochist. Sorry.

Late again.

I know the clock on the blog won't admit this because I still haven't set it to British Summer Time, but here I am, once again starting a post in the wrong day. The reason for this is that I spent the entire evening at the flat of my girlfriend, who we shall refer to by her beautifully geeky internet name of Eruntane. The entertainment to be had there consisted of watching her and her flatmate bake (but oh aren't cranberry muffins a great creation), discussing everything from Saint Saens to the troubles of UTIs (said flatmate is a medical student, sigh) and playing one of the greatest card games ever designed by the hand of man (we can only assume that God has some really great ones just waiting in a storage cupboard in heaven).
Ligretto is a very simple game that involves the usual amount of fastidious (but very unruly) card-based filing, by piling cards of the same color in numerical order at the same time as your competitors and usually losing several layers of skin in the process. It is exceedingly addictive. There should possibly be a general health warning on the box.
The rest of my day, prior to this card playing madness, consisted of acts of great restraint and air guitar (well peripheral guitar).
The restraint was required due to today's release of Tomb Raider: Legend. I am an avid fan of the TR series as a whole, being generally obsessed with exploring (see previous entry) and ancient civilisations. Combine the two together with dual pistols, lots of jumping and a sexy female lead who could eat James Bond for breakfast and you have a hell of a combination. Of course the series has been far from consitent. For myself I still think the original is the best, with The Last Revelation (4), 3 and then two following gradually after with Chronicles (5) and especially The Angel of Darkness (6) lagging very far behind. The series was clearly over commercialised, whored out by Eidos and generally rushed without putting a lot of thought into the later outings of the franchise. The hand over to Crystal Dynamics (creators of one of my other favourite adventure series: Legacy of Kain) definitely seems to be a good one and from the demo I've played, the reviews I've read and now the experiences of my friends, its seems to have worked. TR is back, with ore energy and imagination than ever and more coolness than Lara could carry in her infinite capacity backpack.
Sadly, as was possibly mentioned in an earlier entry, I have banned myself from buying any entertainment media this month, with a special nod to TRL. So I have to sit back and wait for May when neither Hell, high water or just University Work shall stop me from adventuring my little cotton socks/heart off/out. Until then I just have to resist it's lure as my flatmate bought it and it sits, an empty case (to aid my resistance) amidst his game collection, mocking my pitiful consumer's soul.
"But what of this guitar stuff you mentioned?", I hear you ask. Well amongst his other purchases, the flatmate bought Guitar Hero, an odd little game belonging to the hit-buttons-in-time-to-music 'em up genre (classical gaming theory would suggest all genres end with "'em up") but with the twist of being about guitar playing and coming with a nifty little guitar peripheral that will have you pretending to be Hendrix and May in no time at all. Sadly, fun though it was, it reminded me just how pathetically unco-ordinated I am. Practice is the key I guess, and without TRL until May, there'll be plenty of opportunity, but not next week, because:

II'm going home for a bit. Well actually I'm going back to lush green (read wet) Northern Ireland until wednesday with Eruntane and then heading down south to Somerset to visit her home until the weekend when I will have to shuffle back to the cold nerthern climes in time to return to a dull life of not-quite-working. Oh well.
We're planning a trip to the Giant's Causeway on Sunday so it should be great fun and will probably take me back to my childhood. And who knows, perhaps I can pretend I'm adventuring whilst I'm there...

Just around the block...

So, today, I got up and did my four hour work shift and then I had to go and enjoy some random and ever so slightly (just slightly) pointless flat viewing which led to one of the most random and rewarding afternoons in a long while.

We're at the first flat, finishing up our viewing and the estate agent guy kindly points out that we have another viewing all the way across town so he offers to give us a lift and soon we're in an area of Aberdeen which is just beyond that which I often see but which somehow seems exotic (well, more like gothic) and new. So as my penchant for random exploration of cities kicks in (I call it Urban Rambling) I end up leading us on a walk through areas of the city both familiar and strange, down to the river, the famous (and never before visited by me) Duthie Park and it's exceedingly cool (albeit rather hot, actually) winter gardens.

I love places like that, where you can enter into a nice enclosed environemnt and experience some other part of the world. Here I was surrounded by tropical plants and trickling rivulets filled with the unusual combiantion of copper coins and gold-fish. I became acquainted with a vast selection of bromeliads (like the poor emaciated example of such that sits on our flat window ledge and goes - well photosynthesises - by the name of Prometheus) some of which grew decadently out of the trunks of other plants like some sort of tropical sculpture.
There was an attractive japanese garden filled with paving slabs upon which traditional haiku were rendered powerless in perfectly structured rhyming english.
I was particularly taken by the coniferous forest section. Ferns rock! I'm not quite sure why (perhaps, simply because of convetcion currents) but they do. For a moment I could almost imagine I was in a vast primeval forest somewher that was else, other, foreign, exotic, enticing, the antithesis of home and all of the less homely things that stands for.

As I said, I love places like that. Aquariums, parks, little secluded sections of woodland or overgrown garden, coves, caves and even quiet alleywaya looking out onto some other part of the city you've never seen before. I suppose its because of such places, or the tantalising possibility of such places, that I end up going on these random rambles from time to time. And equally it's trying to create places like that of my very own, that I write.

Now, time to eat and sleep.

Not so post modern.

So another day filled with work and the preparation for work. (Don't expect a reprieve tomorrow, I'm doing a 9-1). Still in it I watched a very, very gooey episode of the X-files (2Shy, season 3) and managed to get in a chain fiction post (My character gets all post modern as he complains about coincidences and Deus ex Machina, but in fairness everyone else's character had already done so, so perhaps it was a bit too "post" and not quite "modern" enough). That's about it to be honest, so I guess I'll discuss soemthing else for the rest of this update.

-Asks flatmate for topic-

-Flatmate replies with "Thursday afternoons"-

-Ignores flatmate-

So. Well I did have a super-short story idea to write. Maybe I'll write it here. Oooh it's almost like writing a chain fiction post.

Holy War

They had fought in countless cities across the millennia. The granite tenement walls that framed the alleyway and the shadows of spires, turrets and domes that stretched between the gloomy orange lamplight made this as suitable a setting as any of the others. Not as Gothic as Prague of course, nor as symbolic as Jerusalem, but fitting enough.
Lucifer stood at one end of the alley, his sillhouette tapering out towards Michael, their eyes locked, arc sodium light glinting within like daggers.
As, always, it was Lucifer who made the first move, bounding up the alleway, claws ready to strike into Michael's soft flesh, but, as always, Michael was ready.
The sound of their battling could be heard up and down the street.
In number 34, the noise awoke Mrs. J. Masson from her light slumber next to her comatose husband. Careful not to wake him up somehow, she climbed out of bed and made her way to the window which looked down on the alley. She opened it up, stuck her head out into the bitter chill of night and then, turning towards the warring angels half screeched, half whispered,
"Get away you noisy beasts! Go, on scat!"
She waved her arms emphatically and Michael, who had his blades buried in Lucifer's side, turned and looked up at her, quizically.
"You heard me! People want their sleep!"
And then the injured white rolled out of the black's grasp and ran off into the night.
It always turned out that way.

Go on, humour me.

Miracle on Urquhart Street.

As I start writing this post I realise I am two minutes too late to have succesfully continued the Utada Hikaru 10 day blog challenge. I guess we're going to have to count waking hours.
My day was sort of interrupted by a four hour work shift which I was suddenly informed I could (and should) do by a wake up phone call at about half ten this(i.e yesterday) morning. obligingly I said yes as I had nothing better to do other than the previously eponymous pretending to work and I also needed the money. So a day working then. Fun.
Actually it was rather frustrating as the retail store I work at had one of it's bi-weekly deliveries and the delivery man proved to be utterly inept:

1) Turns up 25 minutes late after getting lost
2) Takes about 15 minutes to unload the first pallet off his lorry because he can't seem to solve the simple block puzzle that is his packing plan.
3) Takes a further 10 minutes to work out the incredibly simple problem that is getting the pallet into the lift.
4) Seems to forget how to use the lift in strange and hard to explain ways. Suffice to say I was annoyed.
5) Gets in our way as we try to unload the pallets in a sort of "I'm late and you're slow" gesture.
6) Doesn't even carbon copy my signatures to his form 2 hours after the delivery was supposed to have begun. (We only had 4 pallets...)

But hey it ate up most of my shift.

In other news I discovered this evening that you haven't really heard a song until you've listened to it through high quality earphones, at night, walking down empty streets. This experience was enlightening enough for me to change my mind about what my favourite song is at the moment. (For those familiar with Utada Hikaru [yes, her again] I'm switching from Sakura Drops to Passion [SHOCK])

And I guess that'll do for now. More later today (or perhaps tomorrow again...).

EDIT: This blog hasn't changed to BST, hah hah! According to it, I'm still within the challenge times!

Pretending to do work...

So, here I am, sitting at a University computer, and what am I doing? Do I hear you say browsing through dull journals on fish trying to piece together an essay? I do? Well you couldn't be more wrong if you tried! I'm actually browsing message boards and, duh, typing this blog post. Exciting, huh?

My life is just one big party, really it is!

So, what were we talking about? Oh yes, HEX! I watched the last episode yesterday and was surprised at how it panned out. The show is still very up and down but the ending was dramatic (and also very undramatic...hmmm) enough to make me think season 3 will be worth watching. There's a whole armageddon type thing going on and it'll be itneresting to see if a british tv show's budget can stretch to that.

On a similar note the BBC have started airing their ads for Dr. Who Series 2, and I'm getting very excited! Sadly I can't say as I have news or any idea when it'll actually start showing, but still: Oooh!

That J-Pop artist I mentioned before, the one who has inspired this bout of updating, has finally released some details about her new album and that has be suitably excited as well.

So in a geeky way I suppose my life is quite exciting...

Random like Sunday morning.

So I was supposed to go to church this morning and hear something possibly life changing. Instead, I lay in bed until nearly One in the afternoon. Very productive, I must say. So it's just another dull Sunday then, browsing the net, chatting to people I only know through tenuous message board connections (and less tenuous message board connections that started because of a need to create chain fiction FF fanfics with friends from school- that it's still going its both amazing and very cool - more on that later).
Anyway, I went to see Ice Age 2 last night. For some reason Scotland got it a whole week ahead of the rest of the UK. I liked the first one, it had some fantastic moments and clever ideas, but unlike one of my flatmates, who is a little obsessive over it sicne he got it on DVD, I think it also has a whole hell of a lot of weaknesses that wouldn't be found in comparable things like Finding Nemo, or Monsters Inc. It's possible the sequel improves on the original. Fair enough, it has an extremely lacklustre premise (the world is melting, don't ya know) which also makes very little sense and it relies on scary, but uncharacterised random badguys we hardly see, but the characters work better this time round as they seem to have grown and each gained a unique purpose within their group, plus the new characters, Elly, Crash and Eddie all of whom are "possums" (see the film and you'll get the inverted commas) add some much needed diversity to the group.
I'm not going to turn my blog into a huge review, so I'll just suggest you go see it yourself. It's a giggle.
Aside from that I'm currently working my way through the second season of HEX, in fact It's very nearly over, one episode to go. In all my watching of this show, even buying it on DVD, I still can't quite decide just why I like it. It has to be one of the most inconsistent shows I've ever watched, right down the characters constantly changing sides and attitudes to the plot not really being sure what it wants to be, and yet somehow the characters are endearing, the writing isn't all that bad and the atmosphere is quite compelling. Plus the only fully consistent character IMO, Thelma, is simply brilliant in season 2. It'll shortly be finished and I'll have to wonder anew whether to get a season 3 if it happens to appear in the distant future.

Finally, Chain Fiction.
What it is this I hear you cry? Well actually the name is probably wrong, but just go with it for now. What I call chain fiction is telling a story with a group of other people whereby we each post (it tends to happen on a message board) a section centred around our character, in turns. Eventually incredibly epic stories with some brilliant characters emerge and fun is had all around.
Currently we're working our wayt through the third sequel to our self made FF-type story (set in an FF-like world) with the delighfully anime-esque name of New Fantasy Chronicles. My character, Glyph is going through some serious issues right now and I'm sure to tell you more about that as it progresses (not that we aren't quite far into it already).

This was a very random update, I confess, but If i'm gonna keep this up or another eight days...

If Hikki can do it so can I!

Ok, so I've proven singularily useless at maintaining a blog. Just look at the dates of the previous two posts! That's a laziness beyond even my usual standards (which as far as laziness is concerned, are pretty high). Anyway I've been thinking about the blog a lot lately, wondering what it could offer, and the benefits it could bestow upon my writing, and I concluded that I really need to try and update it regularly, finding the answers out as I go.

I'm a big fan of certain J-Pop artists, most notably amongst them Utada Hikaru, known as Hikki to her adoring fans. She keeps a japanese blog (and very rarely, and English one) and has noticed this past week that she's been almost as bad as I have with the updating side of things (almost, not quite). Her solution? She promised to update once a day for the next ten days. So far (day 4) it's going well and I can't help but wonder if that technique will work for me?
So here we go Seraph is taking up the Hikki 10-day blog challenge as of today!

So what to put in my first entry of the ten?

How about a little about me:

I am currently a student at the University of Aberdeen, Aberdeen, Scotland, studying Zoology and, to be quite honest, being rather bored of the whole subject. At this precise moment I'm supposed to be reading background info on all my lectures (check... maybe not) and working on a 6,000 word review essay on the rivetting subject of 'Endothermic Fish'. In fairness to it all, it's dull but it's also what I chose to do. I'm stuck with it, but only for another month and then it's exams and graduation and real life.
As has already been indicated, real life for me will hopefully consist of some sort of publishing deal and Darksyde being magically transformed into a best selling novel.

I have a very skewed idea of reality, don't I?

So, more about me... I was born in England, moved to Northern Ireland when I was 5 and now I live in Scotland. I am therefore rather generically British, with a rather mixed up accent (you'll probably just think I'm English). I like anime, sci-fi/fantasy, modern surrealism, good characterisation, dark stuff, lots of different kinds of music from classical to video game soundtracks (with just about everything else in between) and I'm a gamer geek.

As shameless self-promotion goes I'm not doing that well am I? Oh well more rambling tomorrow.