An Unfitted World

“This world isn’t made for the likes of you,” said the Doctor, shaking his head.
Subtext: this is occurrence #1. It will happen again.
Bugger. I’m at home, resting, and feeling tight all up my spine and neck. I don’t even know what to call it – is this what people mean when they say backache? Muscle strain, the Doctor thought, which is exactly what I thought, and it’ll come right by itself with a bit of rest.
“This world isn’t made for the likes of you.” Too right. It isn’t easy being 6’4″ and keeping the body right. The very worst example, the most infuriating, is molded seatbacks for long-distance travel. Aaargh! What moron thought these were a good idea? They may give more comfort to 85% of the population but the tall folk like me are tortured by these things, which jut into the shoulders and provide no neck support and fall away from the lower back. You end up sitting with your whole spine curved the wrong way, cursing the selfish little ape who first crayoned this idea on his phlegm-spattered design pad. Cure you, ape, curse you.
In other news, the new series of Doctor Who has started filming, and it fills me with joy. Hurrah!

The Pain’s The Thing

“The thing about these games,” Bronzini said. “They mean so much while you’re playing. All your inventive skills. All your energies. But when you get a little older and stop playing, the games escape the mind completely.”
– Don DeLillo, Underworld
Over on my livejournal I’ve nearly-without-trying organised a Sunday afternoon playing silly kids runaround games session. People seem keen. I am keen. I remember these elements of my kidhood with great fondness. My first ever act of game design was coming up with ‘Monster Tag’, which was a game of tag involving unstoppable monsters rampaging through tunnels as desperate explorers fought them off with pistols and tried to make their escape.
One of my proudest moments ever was coming upon a bunch of kids, only some of whom I knew, and upon asking what they were doing, being told they were playing this game called ‘Monster Tag’. I then had the rules explained to me, the rules of the game I had invented. That felt damn good.
A large part of the appeal of ‘Monster Tag’ was the ritual at the start. The first Monster would stand like a statue and everyone else would take the part of explorers, coming upon this statue in some dank tomb. To deal with its unexpected and ominous appearance, the explorers would then start to heap insults and indignities on the statue. This would continue until the Monster awoke with a roar, and everyone freaked out and fled and the game proper would begin.
If I remember the rules correctly, Monster Tag was basically unplayable. This didn’t stop us from playing the hell out of it for a long time, and I can’t say we ever noticed.
Anyway. The games escape the mind completely. Also, nearly, the body. My back decided it would injure me today, around the right shoulderblade, the muscles tensing up and aching. Ow. I went home and almost didn’t manage the three-minute walk from bus to front door. A couple Ibuprofen knocked it out, and now nine hours later I’m still hurting but it is pretty low-key. If it persists tomorrow I’m off to the emergency room – they may not be able to do anything there, but they’ll at least be able to do nothing quickly.
But dammit I’m gonna be there on Sunday, even if I have to be the cripple.

[mediawatch] fahrenheit 9/11

Saw it almost a week ago. Liked it more than I expected. The gap before posting comment is more due to being a busy bugger than needing to ruminate, oddly enough.
Anyway. I think most of the criticism of the film is wrongheaded, and this is why: Moore is not trying to construct an argument, he is trying to challenge and undermine the narrative handed down by the Bush administration.
This sort of thing is supposed to be the role of the media in general. Unfortunately, given the massive systemic problems within modern media systems, this isn�t happening. So, part of Moore�s job is to challenge the media as much as the narrative.
Moore�s film can only be understood in the context of the media coverage of the Iraq war. It won�t just be no longer current in five years� time � it�ll be nearly incomprehensible. It is *specifically designed* to run in parallel to regular media coverage. In this sense, it is wrong to expect Moore to be balanced � he is not trying to present the whole picture, just the side that isn�t already in the news.
Moore also presents a lot of things not as concrete criticisms but as symbols, ways to approach the administration that are verboten in the narrative which is handed down by the media. The make-up, the golf bit, even the 9/11 footage isn�t necessarily saying �this is stuff they�re doing wrong�, it�s saying �see these guys? they�re way more fallible than you are normally allowed to see.� Refuting these by saying �they aren�t criticisms!� is missing the point.
I have problems with the film. It rambles, doesn�t make its points with any clarity, is self-indulgent and at times stupidly simplistic, and betrays hints of racism (the sinister Saudis) and jingoism (the coalition mockery).
But I think the vitriol being thrown at it just doesn�t stick. Moore�s project is a valuable one and the big criticisms don�t impact on this project at all. People should see this film, even if they disagree with everything it says. It is impossible to come out of this film and still fully buy into the narrative of power that comes spinning out of the White House, and that is Moore�s greatest achievement and why he isn�t preaching to the converted after all.
Final note: one of the big criticisms of the film is that Moore misrepresents the Saudi flights. I think he does try to make a bigger deal of this than is warranted � but his overall point is that the Saudis received special treatment because they had big financial influence in the Capitol. It wasn�t about �you screwed up the 9/11 investigation� but rather �see how much influence the Saudis have?�
The criticism says (a) Richard Clarke okayed it, and he�s out of the Bush crew, so it�s wrong to try and stick it on Bush; and (b) they didn�t get special treatment anyway, just what any other wealthy group would have got.
(A) This barely needs a response – Clarke was part of the admin at the time, and his decisions served the administration. The fact that he has expressed criticism of how the Bush admin works doesn�t make his decision somehow independent of the charge of undue Saudi string-pulling.
(B) This is harder to prove, as it can only ever be a �what if� counterfactual � but I have no doubt that if the family in question weren�t incredibly wealthy folk tied in to the White House, then there�s no way they would have been cleared for departure so quickly. At the same time as hundreds of Arab-looking people were being detained without charge, the Saudis � who have close family ties to Osama, even though he is estranged � were moved to the front of the queue, given questioning aboard planes, and then given clearance to leave the moment the no-fly order was lifted. Hell, if they were French, they�d still all be locked up.

That Sister Shows Up

On Thursday afternoon my sister and her fiance (what a word) announced they were coming up to Edinburgh on Friday, arriving late afternoon. And that they were leaving again on Saturday, early afternoon. That they thought this was a good idea tells you a great deal about the pair of them, and I’m sure they’ve enjoyed the 12 hour round-trip driving from Oxford.

Lovely to see them both, fer sure.
————
Also, a huge thanks to Chuck and, um, Brad? and whoever else was involved in the package from home… we haven’t found any kind of explanatory note in there owning up to things yet. But, coolioso. Just watched an ep each of Insiders Guide to Happiness and Eating Media Lunch and was fully entertained.

A Plant Bit Me And Ran Away

So we were out in our back garden and liberating raspberries from the big rambly raspberry bush when my wrist brushed against this innocuous-looking plant and it felt like it pricked me.
But it didn’t prick me. It just had soft-looking leaves.
But my wrist was starting to hurt and white welts were coming up. Wow. I’d forgotten plants could do that. I suddenly became very paranoid because I’d clambered right into the middle of the bush to pick stuff. I carefully made my way to freedom. My wrist is still sharp-sore six hours later. Cool.
We ate the raspberries on cardamom ice cream made by some organic outfit in the midlands. Mmmm. Cal didn’t get best effect of the yumminuess, as her sinuses are all blocked – stupid cold, lingering with us both. Plus she got bit by a plant same time as me, exactly the same time, but different plant. It must have been a plot.
But all is well, really.

Gave In

Dammit, I’m home from work today with a steadily-building pile of used tissues. Hate being off sick.
Last night Cal and I ate curry and watched new BBC comedy ‘The Smoking Room’. Not bad at all. The same deadpan observational grotesquerie as ‘The Office’, ‘Nighty Night’ and the genius ‘Peep Show’ – there’s something of a renaissance for Brit comedy going on at the moment.
Then we sat in bed, me feeling sorry for myself, and watched the Director’s Commentary for the opening episode of ‘Firefly’. Most satisfying.
On the other hand, going to Paris! And later, going to Ireland! We’ll be tracking down family-type folk while there. At least, that’s the plan. I have a list of things to do while overseas, as laid down by my family and friends before departing, and one of them I hope to cross off the list at the other end of this coming trip.

This Is Not The Sleep You’re Looking For

So here it is at nearly 4am, and I’m waiting for the cold and flu meds to kick in because after hours of basically nil sleep I realised there were some lurking in a back drawer somewhere.
Stupid stupid rat creatures. I should be asleep dreaming of gargantua and left-wing and Brando and coats of arms and sine waves and precise composites and Tiger Lily and multitudes and such. Instead I am awake.
I have, however, just eaten some chocolate and it is amazing how much better it makes me feel. Mmm.
And, apple and ginger tea.

Paris, Ireland

Flights are booked. Paris in early August for about a week. Ireland in October for 2 1/2 weeks. Yay.
I have another sore-throat head-stuffed cold-thing. Dammit! I’ve had more of these little bug hits this year than the last three put together! (At least, unlike in previous years, they are only staying a few days before being beaten out of me.)
Word of the day: rabelaisian

Little Things I Am Happy About

I am watching Howard Hawks’ original The Thing From Another World right now on BBC2.
I just had a glass of water and it refreshed me more than anything.
We had a good roleplaying club meeting, and some people even realised it was our one-year anniversary. Our ‘sponsor’ at the bookstore chatted to me and says she wants to organise an event of some kind in October for the 30th anniversary.
I downloaded a fan-made Windows version of legendary C64 game ‘Head Over Heels’.
There’s a Hillary Clinton/Natalie Portman photo doing the internet rounds that made me laugh.
I am warm and comfy.