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March 16th, 2012
 | 02:09 pm - Five questions meme I'm blowing the dust off this LJ because katlinel tagged me with her five questions. As is traditional in this little game, let me know in comments if you'd like five individually hand-carved questions of your very own.
1. Which dead politician would you most like to have a chat with and why?
Niccolo Machiavelli. He would have some excellent stories. Also, I could hire him as my campaign manager.
2. What's wrong with television today?
I like television today! Drama is as good as it has ever been - ten years ago it seemed to be nothing but soap, cops and docs, but now there is a great variety of quality drama series. If you take the best British dramas of the last few years, and add in the excellent imports coming in particularly from the US and Scandinavia, it's hard to conceive of a time when we had a richer choice available to us. Comedy is in pretty decent shape, too, from the delightfully trad Miranda to the sharp, modern The Thick of It. Documentary is better than ever: from astronomy to archaeology, the programmes can look better than they ever have before, and the possibilities of niche programming on BBC4 provide an incredible diversity of subjects and styles.
So TV is great. Except for one thing.
Politics.
The coverage of political issues and political debates on TV ranges from woeful to exasperating. The main offenders are Question Time and Newsnight - ostensibly the BBC's heavyweight political fixtures. What utter shit they are. Question Time is just an exercise in trolling. Why else would they get David Starkey on? And as for Newsnight, the only insight it gives is into the egos of the presenters. And I haven't even got onto Nick Robinson yet. Jesus wept, what a superficial, preening, empty-headed little twatpole. All he does is go on screen and repeat whatever the last person to talk to him said, with a few fatuous verbal flourishes that masquerade as analysis. He's the worst, but most of his colleagues are as bad. They don't seem to actually understand anything about how anything actually works, and are certainly incapable of passing any understanding on to their viewers.
There are a few oases of quality. Channel 4 News is generally decent when Michael Crick isn't on it and, much as I think he's a prick, Andrew Neil does sometimes manage some decent analysis mixed in with his self-satisfied tomfoolery. The rest of it, though? Fire and acid, acid and fire.
3. You're a man who sports a mean silver kilt, so what's next for you, sartorially speaking?
Good question. When money allows, I'm going to look into a new wardrobe. Sharp but not too formal - more Charlie Brooker than Nick Clegg.
I would like to get another kilt suit made up, when I can, in cream linen with brown details. Not white: think British colonial, not boy band. Something that basically looks like it would go well with a pith helmet.
4. What's wrong with science fiction today?
You're determined I'm going to be negative, aren't you? Well, OK. In this case it's easier.
Like TV, SF isn't all one thing and some bits are doing better than others.
In terms of mass entertainment, sci-fi is mainstream and is doing well in film and TV. What we're missing is something with a bit more depth to it. Where is the SF equivalent of The Wire, The Killing, or This Is England? It wouldn't have to be po-faced or even respectable: Blake's 7 was often silly, yet at its best it managed a dramatic depth that current sci-fi drama doesn't seem interested in reaching for.
Back in the 90s there was Babylon 5 and there was Buffy the Vampire Slayer. B5 had an audience, but struggled to achieve its ratings goals and was a fraught production in various ways. Buffy was immensely successful, and has been a huge influence on shows that have come after it. And that's the problem. Because Buffy was all about common life experiences on an individual scale, blown up to vivid metaphorical dimensions. It did this well, and was a great show, but it lacked what B5 portrayed so well: politics, history, culture, religion, the immense, impersonal, alien forces that act on us all, constraining our thoughts and deeds. With the success of Buffy, and the fading of B5, those large-scale, extra-human issues seemed to fall out of sci-fi drama. Even a show like the re-imagined Survivors, which should have been all over these issues, completely sidelined them in an attempt to be just like everything else on TV, instead of having the courage to follow the dramatic logic of its own premise.
There are some partial exceptions. Dollhouse, to give Whedon his due, is the most political SF drama that's been done in ages. It had a short run, though, and unlike his even shorter-running Firefly doesn't seem to have made many cultural ripples. And there's Battlestar Galactica, which I gather did try to encompass politics, society and religion, but the little I saw of it treated these things so cack-handedly that I couldn't bring myself to carry on with it. And of course Torchwood had a decent crack at it in Children of Earth, then cocked it up in Miracle Day.
Basically, the problem with SF drama today is that the most profound and thoughtful storytelling is happening on Doctor Who. Now, I love Doctor Who more than words can express, but it is fundamentally populist entertainment with a core audience of eight-year-olds. Can't we manage something as wonderful and as successful, but for adults?
Then there's prose SF, which is basically dying. I suspect future cultural historians will look back on SF-as-a-genre as a phenomenon of the age of rocketry. Now that the Space Age has finally dwindled to an end, its literary offshoot is similarly fading. There are still fine novels being written that you could classify as SF, just as there were before Goddard and Tsiolkovsy - but, just as in those days, they are not generally shelved in a special section of the bookstore called "SF".
The books that are still so shelved, even (especially) the better ones, seem more and more to be engaged in a closed conversation with their predecessors in the SF field. Lovecraft wrote about cosmic horror, Heinlein wrote about societal structures, Dick wrote about God and the nature of humanity. Modern SF writers write about Lovecraft, Heinlein and Dick. The ossified Hugo awards are just a symptom of this turning-in of the SF literary community.
5. Which character should Peter Jackson have cast you as in the LotR films?
That's a tricky one. I wouldn't want to supplant any excellent, well-cast actors, so that basically leaves me with Legolas or Arwen. Neither of which, I contend, I would be an obvious candidate for.
The other problem is that if he cast me as some character that he fucked about with massively then I'd just spend the whole time complaining about the script and get fired. So, that's Faramir and Denethor out. Pity - age me up a bit and I'd relish having a go at Book!Denethor.
It's also a pity that I'm completely wrong for the role of Bombadil. Those films need more Bombadil.
So taking everything into account, and accepting that I'm just going to have to deprive a much better actor of a job, I'd have to go for Wormtongue. That would be great fun.
Though I'm tempted to say Gimli, just to spare cinemagoers that appalling "accent" that John Rhys Davies insists on inflicting upon us.
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June 15th, 2011
 | 06:54 pm - Doctor Who: blowing young minds since 1963 The Mind Robber is, of course, one of the best Doctor Who stories ever made. But Phil Sandifer, writing about all the broadcast stories in order on his TARDIS Eruditorium blog, argues that it's much more even than this. It is, in fact, the true story of the Doctor's origins, from which all this stuff about Time Lords and Gallifrey is just a distraction. I'll let him explain...
The incumbent Master of the Land of Fiction is a writer of a pulp schoolboy serial (and, Miles and Wood argue, a thinly veiled Charles Hamilton, though the veil here is at least thicker than the last thinly veiled thing related to Hamilton). It's made clear that it's his creativity and ability to write that holds the thing together. So why on Earth would the Land of Fiction want to sack its writer-Master in favor of the Doctor, a character who has never displayed any particular literary ambition?
The clue is in episode two, in which Gulliver makes a comment that the Doctor is a traitor to the Land of Fiction. What on Earth could that possibly mean? (Yes, like all of Gulliver's lines, it's actually from Swift, but we are, I think, meant to assume that what he says is true, if oddly phrased) The obvious answer is that the Doctor is originally from the Land of Fiction. In fact, if we take Gulliver's line at face value (and there is admittedly some reason not to, though it seems to me given the rest of the story there's more reason to), the Doctor must hail from the Land of Fiction. You cannot be a traitor to a land you are not from.
[...]
The simplest explanation of all of this is that, on some level, the Doctor has always been a part of the Land of Fiction - intended to be its master and controller. And that he escaped. Thematically, this makes sense. Going back to Whitaker's conception of the TARDIS, if we look at how the ship is explained in An Unearthly Child, one of the most unusual things about it is that the Doctor explains the TARDIS via the metaphor of television. This recurs in The Time Meddler, where the Doctor describes some controls to Steven all of which are recognizable as television controls. And in The Chase, where what kicks off the destabilization of the narrative is the threat that the Doctor might trade in the TARDIS for watching stuff on television. Indeed, the opening credits of the show are done with a technique called howlaround that is based on exploiting and manipulating the technical limits of television signals And Miles and Wood write several times about how Troughton's Doctor often peers out of television screens, both in the story (as when he appears on a monitor in The Wheel in Space) and outside of it, when he looks at the camera itself. And when he looks out, he appears aware of what he is looking at. The sense is that the Doctor can cross the thin membrane that separates the world behind the screen from the world in front of it.
In other words, since day one the Doctor has been a character who appears to harness the basic power of television. And he has consistently used this power in order to tell stories. He appears to be someone who can create an infinite number of stories. He has, in other words, always fulfilled the role of the Master of the Land of Fiction, except instead of writing stories by sitting on the sidelines he writes them Mercurially - by throwing himself into them and creating them through his own existence in them.
In other words, months before The War Games, The Mind Robber has quietly given us an origin story for the Doctor that is almost, but not quite, what we eventually get from the later "official" version. (After all, it is not as though no writer in the first six years had a guess on where the Doctor came from. If I could dig up David Whitaker and ask him one question, in fact, it would be what he thought the Doctor's origin was.) The Doctor fled from a position of responsibility, stole a spaceship (or, in this case, storytelling medium), and ran off to have adventures. Except that instead of being a Time Lord from Gallifrey, he is the designated Master of the Land of Fiction - the writer and creator of all stories. And he's gone on the run to live the stories instead of simply writing them.
Notably, this never quite gets contradicted, even when, later in this season, this shadow theme of The Mind Robber gets done as the main plot of two episodes. Because the Land of Fiction is outside of the universe, and because the Doctor fled it into the universe, he presumably became "real" instead of just fictional. And thus he became something else that served much of the same narrative function - instead of a wanderer in the dimension of narrative, he is a wanderer in the dimension of time. The Time Lords, with their "look but don't touch" ethos and distance from the world, are a fair enough metaphor for the Land of Fiction itself. So the fact that, outside of the Land of Fiction, he is something else is hardly an issue.
Still not convinced? Read the whole thing.
What's remarkable is how consonant this theory is with Moffat-era Who. It seems the current showrunner has been thinking along similar lines.
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April 20th, 2011
 | 04:09 pm - Elisabeth Sladen
Sarah Jane Smith is dead, alas Let's all queue up to kick God's ass
Elisabeth Sladen died yesterday, aged 63. But you knew that. She was a wonderful actress, a sci-fi icon, and a much-loved star. But you knew that, of course you knew that. What more is there to say?
( What indeed..? )
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April 16th, 2011
 | 08:40 pm - Need a classic monologue? Here's one I prepared earlier. I, Pencil by Leonard E Read:
I, Pencil, simple though I appear to be, merit your wonder and awe, a claim I shall attempt to prove. In fact, if you can understand me—no, that's too much to ask of anyone—if you can become aware of the miraculousness which I symbolize, you can help save the freedom mankind is so unhappily losing. I have a profound lesson to teach. And I can teach this lesson better than can an automobile or an airplane or a mechanical dishwasher because—well, because I am seemingly so simple.
Simple? Yet, not a single person on the face of this earth knows how to make me. This sounds fantastic, doesn't it? Especially when it is realized that there are about one and one-half billion of my kind produced in the U.S.A. each year.
Do you reckon Terry Nation came across this essay sometime in 1974?
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April 15th, 2011
August 23rd, 2010
 | 05:11 pm - Happy Birthday Happy Birthday, katlinel!
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July 8th, 2010
 | 01:21 am - Budgie - "Breadfan"
The legendary Budgie, mighty in everything but record sales. Like most people, I first heard this song when Metallica released their cover version back in 1988. It's one of the all-time great rock covers, and in some aspects improves on the original, but on balance I think I prefer the clarity of Budgie's classic power trio.
Noting that Breadfan was released in 1973, the year of my birth, I thought I'd have a go at creating a playlist of great songs from that year. What my meticulous research into release dates showed was that many of the best songs ever written were released in late 1972 or early 1974. Bugger.
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June 21st, 2010
 | 12:59 am Wasn't Doctor Who splendid last night?
There was a lot to like about it, but one aspect has hitherto received little comment, as far as I have been able to discern.
It was i_smell_shite who said it as I was thinking it, but didn't they have some great arse shots of River Song? I mean, wow. Seriously.
It's particularly notable because the revived series of Doctor Who has been markedly deficient in this regard. Freema Agyeman in particular was criminally poorly served.
There's still some way to go to match the classic arse shots of the sixties, but I hope this week's positive step forward is a sign of ambition to surpass those great achievements. And if the production team find they need a few script pages to cover a contrived scenario whereby the Tardis disintegrates leaving only River Song, Martha Jones and Gwen Cooper clinging to the console as it spins through the void, they only have to ask.
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May 21st, 2010
 | 12:03 am - Let all the poisons that lurk in the mud hatch out The Foreign Secretary has announced <A href="http://www.guardian.co.uk/law/2010/may/20/torture-william-hague-terrorism">there will be a judicial inquiry into allegations of British complicity in torture</A>.
Meanwhile, the Labour Party has begun the process of electing its next leader.
The coincidence of these two points should give Labour pause.
I've long thought the Catholic Church was unwise in appointing Cardinal Ratzinger as Pope, given all that has come out about his personal involvement in cover-ups of child abuse. I've no reason to think the assembled Cardinals knew of Ratzinger's complicity, but they did know he was the Prefect of the Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith - the body responsible for investigating such abuses. They should have realised that there was a lot of dirt to come out, and a chance that at least some of it would end up sticking to Ratzinger, even if they didn't know any details of specific cases. But they ignored this and made him Pope, and now the scandal embroiling the Church reaches right to the top.
The Labour Party should consider this salutary example before electing its next leader. The current front-runner, according to bookies and pundits, is David Milliband. In his previous role as Foreign Secretary, he was responsible for the actions of British intelligence agents abroad. I have no evidence that he was personally complicit in any act of torture, but if I were a Labour member I would be very wary of electing him. Because this inquiry, whatever form it takes, will probably report a year or two from now - and if David Milliband is firmly ensconced as leader when this report comes out, and there is the slightest trace of dirt that sticks to him personally, then Labour will be in serious political trouble.
A vote for David Milliband as leader is a bet that he will turn out to be 100% squeaky clean. I wouldn't take that bet.
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May 12th, 2010
 | 01:44 am Bloody hell, it's glitterboy1 's birthday! It seems like only a year since the last one.
Happy birthday, you glittery chap you!
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