The Ultimate Showdown Part 1- The Bitter Suite

All right, here’s the deal. Girl Clumsy and I, despite being comrades in arms and best of friends, have a bitter feud which divides us. Like all feuds, it is a matter of honour, of principle, and of pig-headed stubborness to not see things from the other’s point of view. It involves something which we are both passionate about, about which we care deeply. It is, simply, this-

I think Buffy the Vampire Slayer has the best musical episode ever, while GC thinks Xena: Warrior Princess not only has a better musical episode, but did theirs first.

Obviously, this is a matter of great importance. Such things rend friendships in two, leaving only bitterness and anger in their wake. We had to settle this once and for all. So we decided a duel was required. We would be the combatants, and the episodes would be our weapons. We would match them against each other, and see who would be the victor.

Also, we would cook up some pasta and also have chips and softdrink and stuff.

So it was that I ventured to Chez Clumsy, armed with my copy of Once More With Feeling. GC, for her part, was ready for me, having the entire six seasons of Xena on DVD, including The Bitter Suite.

We decided the fairest option would be to review the episoide we weren’t championing, in order to get a non-fan’s opinion of it. Also we’d probably be able to snark more.

Therefore, I’ll be reviewing The Bitter Suite here on olilolo. Girl Clumsy will be reviewing Once More With Feeling on her blog. Click over there for part 2, the thrilling conclusion!

XENA: WARRIROR PRINCESS- THE BITTER SUITE

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You have to respect an episode with a pun right in the title. It’s giving you something for free, right up front.

Although I am championing Buffy in favour of it don’t get me wrong, I was always a fan of Xena back when it was on TV. Especially her costume, which was basically bondage leathers and a sword, which appealed to a 13 year old Stu immensely. Hell, it appeals to a 26 year old Stu quite a bit as well.

But I always felt the show was a bit too goofy for its own good, something I’ve come to reconsider recently, having re-watched a few episodes and realising the fun everyone involved with the show seemed to be having. That sort of thing is infectious, and you find yourself having fun just watching the show, as the joy of playing dress-ups with swords and bodices bleeds out of the screen.

However I don’t feel it ever reached the greatness which Buffy did in terms of writing and acting. And for my money, nowhere is this more apparent than their respective musical episodes.

Suite is not a bad hour of television. It’s visually arresting, funny in places and tragic in others, and all round a decent experience to watch. But it has its problems.

First of all, you can’t really call it a “musical episode”. It’s an episode of the show which happens to have the characters singing. That sounds like nitpicking, but hear me out. To truly be a short form musical, it would need to be in that format from the start. It should ideally open with either a chorus number or at least some form of introductory song. Instead we see the fallout from the previous episode, with Xena wanting to murder long-suffering sidekick Gabrielle, who she blames for the death of her son, and literally dragging her behind her horse before trying to throw her off a cliff. I mean, I’ll totally take that as an opening, that is awesome. But it’s not a musical.

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Instead, they wind up falling off the cliff, and also apparently drop a bunch of acid, because when they awake they’re in the land of “Illusia”, a world of wonders and mystic portents. Also they’re both naked. They definitely score points for this, but lose them again for the somewhat awkward framing device. Obviously there has to be some justification for the characters suddenly singing, but this just left me cold for some reason.

From there we get a series of musical numbers from lightly comic to deeply tragic. Lucy Lawless shines in this, as she is actually a trained singer with a strong alto, and can really start belting out the notes during songs like “Hearts Are Hurting”. Kevin Smith, who plays Ares, also impresses with a light baritone and a swagger that would make him the star of any stage he appeared on. And Ted Raimi is hilarious in his self-aggrandising “Joxer the Mighty”. However the disappointing thing for me was that the episode uses voice doubles for two of the major parts- Gabrielle is dubbed by Broadway singer Susan Wood, while Callisto, who serves as a sort of Greek Chorus (no pun intended) and guide figure in the episode is dubbed by Broadway and film actor Michelle Nicastro. These are two integral parts, especially Gabrielle who has several key songs with Xena, and to have them dubbed makes the episode lose more points, in my opinion.

To its credit though, Suite really latches onto the concept of Big Emotions in songs, the idea that something sung can have more resonance than something merely spoken. It’s an idea which also drives Once More With Feeling, but in The Bitter Sweet it’s taken to its most operatic level, with Xena and Gabrielle practically screaming their lyrics to each other in a genuinely moving series of moments.

My problem with this format is that everything feels as if it’s disconnected from everything else. One moment we’ve got Joxer capering around, the next we’ve got Ares doing what sounds like a cover of Arabian Nights from Aladdin, before a series of near-arias between Xena and Gabrielle. It feels like several songs thrown together, not a coherent muscial episode.

Still, it’s a lot of fun, even with shit getting heavy towards the end. But from what I saw, it never rises to the level of Once More With Feeling, which is a coherent self-contained musical while also pushing the plot of the show forward in several key ways.

None of those were “having its two hot female leads hugging in the surf” though, so one up for Xena there I guess.

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Now if the competition had been between Once More With Feeling and Xena‘s SECOND musical episode Lyre Lyre Hearts on Fire, it would have been no contest, cause Lyre is fucking AWESOME.

In it, a quest for a magical lyre causes Xena et al to travel to Melodia (Greece’s music capital!) where they organise a Battle of the Bands (no, really), including a group of Amazons, a band of warriors and Joxer’s campy brother Jace, who talks with an exaggerated Spanish accent, wears silk shirts and flamboyantly latin-dances. The episode includes the war band playing a thrashed up version of “Kick out the Jams”, and culminates with Xena and the Warlord Draco (played by Jay Laga’aia!) having a fight while crowdsurfing as the Amazon band play a metal version of Xena’s theme song. It is RAD AS HELL.

But it wasn’t in the running, and therefore has no bearing on this duel. Truly a missed opportunity.

Here is the entire audio track of our viewing of The Bitter Suite. For best results, have your own copy ready to go and press play when prompted. This will give you something to watch during the long pauses when we run out of “funny” things to say and just sit and watch the episode, quietly crunching twisties.

For those of you who don’t want to sit through nearly an hour of two nerds snarking, here is some edited highlights-

8:04- GC- “So now we have Gabrielle being whipped by Amazons” Stu- “Actually there’s retreats which offer this service now.”

8:15- GC- “And here we see our first bare ass of the episode” Stu- “I will admit, you do not get that in Buffy.”

9:10- GC- “Okay if you listen here that’s actually Lucy Lawless singing” Stu- “Is there nothing that woman can’t do?” GC- “No.”

11:40- Stu- “See if this were a different type of film, they’d start kissing now.” GC- “Actually in later seasons they basically just do.”

16:10- GC- (commenting on the lush New Zealand coastline standing in for ancient Greece) “I think this was why I was so freaked out when I visited the Cyclades.”

17:08- (Xena and Gabrielle have plunged into the sea) Stu- “All right, we’re currently in a washing machine ad.” GC- “Gets rid of grease and grime from all of your leather!”

20:08- Stu- “There’s currently an eagle a bull and a lion… AND a jackal-headed god, AND a small dog singing to Xena… in fact everything in this scene including the tables and chairs are singing to Xena.”

24:40- GC- “Currently Xena is being serenaded by a brutish group of warriors.” Stu- “Really the only thing that 300 was lacking was a few show tunes.”

27:45- (An incredible story by GC about how she nearly got cast as an extra on Xena one time. She has the best stories)

29:09- Stu- “This is a big war song between a bunch of soldiers and a bunch of peasants with pitchforks. Historically, those battles tend to be a little one-sided.” GC- “Gabrielle’s got a scythe.” Stu- “Never bring a scythe to a swordfight.”

29:45- (Xena and Gabrielle are fighting) Stu- “Gabrielle has rolled with Xena for how long now? Exactly how well does she think this is going to go?” (Gabrielle is stabbed in the gut by Xena) Stu- “That went about exactly as I was expecting it to.”

31:14- GC- “And now Xena and Ares are sexy-dancing, Xena’s in a sexy tight red dress…” Stu- “She’s got the girl equivalent of a murder boner up.”

33:17- Stu- “Ah it was all a clever ruse!” GC- “Well you know it is Mindfuckistan.”

40:00- Stu- “We’ve just seen a grim reaper looking thing with a hood that turned into a trumpet and blew a fanfare, which is much funnier than you’d think it would be.”

51:40- GC “And that was The Bitter Suite, filmed entirely on location in New Zealand. Any similarity to persons living or dead purely coincidental.” Stu- “Meanwhile there’s a woman on a couch dressed in leather going ‘this is BULLSHIT!’”

Ways the World Will End #3874

It’s fair to say that humans are tool-using animals. In fact our mastery of tool use has allowed us to become the dominant species on the planet. And over the years our tools have become increasingly complex. From the simple bone used to club someone over the head, to mastery of the wheel, the pulley, the printing press, computers, televisions, mobile phones and microwaves. All designed to make our lives easier and hold back the bloody jaws of nature, which sits waiting on the outskirts of our quiet little civilised lives.

ABOVE: Black metal album covers have been trying to warm us for years.

ABOVE: Black metal album covers have been trying to warn us for years.

But there’s a problem. As machines got more and more complex, more and more complex materials were needed to make them. A rare element called Indium is used to make Liquid Crystal Displays, for example, which are used in everything from calculators to flat screen TVs. Hafnium does not occur naturally in nature, but is extracted from sand and used in computer chips and nuclear reactors. Gallium is used in a range of products, from semi-conductors to nuclear weapons. Not to mention the more common minerals and elements like Platinum, Copper and Zinc, which are used for a multitude of manufacturing puposes.

So just to recap- incredibly rare materials are being used in products which are mass marketed, many of which are designed to be disposable and replaced within 6 months. I’m sure that couldn’t possibly be a problem.

In 2007, German materials chemist Armin Reller sat down and worked out roughly how long our current known supplies of rare materials would last. The answer? Until about 2017. Less than 10 years. Indium, Hafnium and Gallium will be completely exhausted by that point. Zinc, which is used for such a myriad range of things that just listing two of them like “coins” and “bullets” barely does it justice, is expected to be used up by 2037.

And that’s just the short-term. Supplies of nickel, phosphorous and even copper are starting to get on the worrying side. They could conceivably be used up by the end of the century. But long before that, every TV, computer, radio, nuclear power plant, stove, flashlight and a thousand other devices would have gone dark. The old saying is that humanity is three hot meals away from anarchy. It’s possible anarchy could reign in the next 50 years.

ABOVE: Dogs and cats living together; MASS HYSTERIA!

ABOVE: Dogs and cats living together; MASS HYSTERIA!

People worry about the oil supply running out, but this is a far more immediate and pressing problem. Especially because, in a twist of irony so great that it proves God exists and that he’s a bastard,  these materials are used in things like solar cells and high-storage batteries which are being touted as the green alternatives to petrol cars and coal and nuclear power. We’re replacing one set of problems with another, far more immediate set.

Luckily, my bunker is fully constructed and ready for use right now. And I have lots of spare parts. When the lights go out, I’ll be a mile underground, listening to my iPod and basking in the glow from the halogens.

Weekend WTF

I tried writing several different introductions to this week’s piece of crazy news from the internet, and to be honest I just can’t really think of a damn thing that I could say which would make this any weirder than it already is. So here we go.

A guy from Minneapolis has only ever spoken Klingon to his son.

Klingons are… you know what? You know what Klingons are. Everyone does, even those pygmy bushmen in Africa who think an empty coke bottle is technology from the gods. “Ah,” they say “The large (click) bumpy headed warrior (click) race from Star Trek.” And they’re right, that’s what Klingons are.

What you may mercifully not know is that Trek fandom has embraced the Klingon ‘culture” with open arms, to the point where they’ve developed intricate caste systems and social hierarchies and even a spoken language, based on the few snippets of gibberish used in the show. There’s Klingon translations of Shakespeare and the Bible, if you’re chasing that guttural, phlegmatic feeling German just can’t provide any more.

People who learn Klingon and who speak it fluently are at the same time awesome and pathetic beyond comprehension. But that’s a choice they’ve made, probably the last in a series of bad choices, but still, they chose to do that. To learn Klingon. So they could have conversations in Klingon. Presumably in public, where people could see them doing this terrible thing.

The newborn baby did not, however, have a choice. d’Armond Speers spoke only Klingon to his child for the first three years of his life. Sure, he’s now in high school and speaks English fine, but this isn’t the sort of thing you’re supposed to just mess around with. Because his Dad is a bit of a weirdo, that kid could have been in the situation of experiencing every actual language on Earth as a second language, because all his hardwiring was based around a made-up language created by fans of a science fiction TV show.

The evil punchline to the whole thing is that the Dad is apparently not even that big a Star Trek fan. He just did it to see if it would work. I mean, you look in this guy’s high school locker, you’re going to find a few dead puppies, you know?

But the worst thing about all this is that when I first heard about this story, I thought “Holy shit, that is SO AWESOME. I wonder if he had a little bat’leth and some mini-dreds to go with it!”

I am a bad person.

Twilight? More like stupid…light.

The latest Twilight movie New Moon came out this week and EVERY SINGLE PERSON ON EARTH IS TALKING ABOUT IT. Including me, so hey, I’ve got no right to bitch, but seriously, my 80 year old grandmother asked me if I was going to see “that vampire film”. It has an incredible level of media saturation.

Fangirls (there are no “fanboys” of Twilight) are creaming their collective panties over it, while everyone else is standing back and revelling in the smug superiority of not being a Twilight fan. And I admit, I’m as guilty of that as anyone. I really dislike the series, first of all just for the way it portrays vampires, but also for it’s fairly poisonous messages about what it regards to be healthy relationships based on controlling male figures and women who are helpless without a man to tell them what to do.

The big problem I have with that criticism though is that you can pretty much point to ANY of the myriad vampire series on the shelves right now, and see the exact same thing. I was in Borders the other day and they have a whole section set aside for “Vampire Literature”. Bram Stoker’s Dracula was nowhere to be seen, it should go without saying. Surprisingly though, neither was Anne Rice’s Vampire Chronicles, with their decidedly adult content. Instead there were endless trashy authors writing books which have clearly been marketed to teenage girls, all of whom are apparently mad keen on hooking up with a pale haemophiliac.

And that’s understandable. Vampires were sexy long before Stephanie Meyer came along and vomited glitter all over them. But the crux of that matter is this- if you’re criticising Twilight for using vampires as bad metaphors for sex, and having destructive relationships, you’ve got to apply that same level of criticism to all properties which use vampires as part of their cast.

Take for instance HBO’s surprise hit True Blood, which is actually based on a bona fide Vampire Fiction series aimed at girls, the Southern Vampire Mysteries by Charlaine Harris. Executive producer Alan Ball deliberately fiddled around with many of the elements in the books, creating a funny horror show that appeals to a broad demographic. But a close adaptation of Harris’ novels would have resulted in something much closer to Twilight than many fans of the show would be confortable admitting. Even the central relationship of the show, between telepath Sookie Stackhouse and Vampire Bill Compton is an eerie mirror of Twilight’s Bella and Edward.

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Not to mention most geeks are basically being giant hypocrites when they start criticising Twilight out of some knee-jerk reaction to the fact that hordes of screaming girls are going nuts for it. For example, I read comic books. At their best they can be works of art and great literature all rolled into one, and I’m not just talking about the Graphic Novels either. The current run of monthly title Detective Comics featuring Batwoman and The Question have been some I’ve the best drawn and written comics I’ve read. But for every piece of great art there is a hundred examples of crudely muscled men and overly-sexualised women beating the tar out of each other with very little motivation or character development.

Look, I’m not saying Twilight isn’t bad. It’s terrible. But you need to damn it fairly, and make sure you’re not standing in a giant glass house when you do.

Comic Book Movies They’ll Never Make: The Sandman

Some comics books are fleeting. They’re written, they entertain for a time, and they are forgotten. There’s no shame in that. Comic books for most of their existence have been disposable entertainment. The idea of comics as capital-L Literature only really started to break into mainstream thought around the mid-80s. But even then, the idea that a comic book could be taken seriously seemed to be a laughable proposition. Then came The Sandman. And everything changed.

Who the Hell is That?

Towards the end of the 80s following the success of Alan Moore’s Watchmen and Frank Miller’s The Dark Knight Returns, DC were looking to expand their line with a range of darker, more adult titles. Journalist and writer Neil Gaiman was asked if there was any character he’d like a shot at revamping for a more adult audience. After listing several characters and being told “no”, he mentioned an idea he had for updating the Golden Age character The Sandman, a mystery man who wore a gas mask and used knockout gas to put his foes to sleep

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Gaiman decided to throw out everything but the name, and came up with Lord Morpheus, The Sandman, the literal Anthropomorphic Personification of the act of Dreaming.

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The man could think laterally, you have to admit.

Morpheus lives in the Dreaming, the Land of Nod, the place people go to when they fall asleep and dream. And Gaiman made him one of the Endless, a group of seven beings which represent the unchanging forces of life in the universe- Destiny, Death, Dream, Destruction, Despair, Desire, and Delirium. And, to make it interesting, he made them a family.

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Dream is a brooding, solitary being, content to construct his dreams and nightmares, but he is also, like all artists, a romantic at heart. A being of immense power, who takes his duties very seriously, unlike some of his more capricious younger siblings.

Also, he’s a well-spoken messy-haired story teller, and is basically one of the most egregious author insertion characters of all time. I mean, come on- he’s often referred to as the Lord of Stories. But then, Gaiman is awesome, so he gets a pass for that.

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What Makes Them So Special?

Look it sounds like a giant pile of wank but trust me on this- Sandman is very, very good. The series lasted for 75 issues; In that time, it won the Hugo Award, EIGHTEEN Eisner Awards, and a World Fantasy Award for issue #19 A Midsummer Night’s Dream. After it won they changed the rules so a comic could never win again. Anyone would think it was REAL literature, or something.

If that doesn’t convince you- Sandman managed to literally change the world of comics. From its content, which mixed action and humour with numerous allusions to literature and mythology, to it’s very design, which included moody artwork and sombre covers by Dave McKean which were often pieces of art all by themselves.

But more importantly it changed the way comics were written. Before Sandman, the idea of having a single writer write an ongoing series for 75 issues was almost unthinkable. And for him to decide to finish the story he was telling and end the comic was unprecedented. The current method of printing single issues which are then collected into storyline volumes as trade paperbacks was popularised via Sandman. And the idea that a smart, dark, funny comic that didn’t talk down to its audience could actually sell issues was practically a revelation.

As for the stories themselves, they’re everything from romance to horror to thriller to epic fantasy. While they share a common tone, it’s basically guaranteed you’re going to find something you like somewhere in the thousands of pages. Some of the drawings are quite pretty too.

Also, this book was almost as influential as Morrissey in creating the Goth subculture, but please don’t hold that against it.

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Why It’ll Never Work

Well it’s possible it could, but no film would ever be able to capture the full sweep of its 75 issues in one feature length picture. Even a trilogy couldn’t do it, and there’s no way a studio is going to invest the massive amount of time and money, Lord of the Rings style, into a property beloved by comics fans and practically unknown outside of that. Although with Gaiman rapidly attaining the status of Superstar Writer, that option actually looks slightly more likely.

What you could do is adapt one of the earlier story arcs, probably The Doll’s House or Season of Mists, which both could be used to introduce the characters while still providing a fairly tightly plotted story that doesn’t rely too much on what has come before.

That’s not to say that people haven’t been trying to make this into a movie. Hollywood has been sniffing around this one for ages, given that it’s been constantly one of the most talked about comics properties basically since the first story arc wrapped up. Several attempts have been made at a script, including a draft where Morpheus has a fistfight with Lucifer, which kind of misses the point of the series. Gaiman described the last script sent to him by Warner Brothers as “…not only the worst Sandman script I’ve ever seen, but quite easily the worst script I’ve ever read.” So there’s that.

Ultimately, the trouble with adapting Sandman into a comic is you would spend millions of dollars in CGI to bring these characters to life on the screen (and don’t tell me you could just get someone to play Morpheus- you would need to Mocap the hell out of that, and for once having dead, lifeless eyes would actually be a bonus) and then have those million dollar creations sit around talking. There’s precious little actual action in the comic, and what’s there is there for very good reasons. But if you’re spending that much money for film you want Spectacle, and that’s never what Sandman was about.

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What We’ll Have to Settle For Instead

It turns out Gaiman himself is slated to direct a film about Dream’s sister Death, based on the short series Death: The High Cost of Living, about a guy who meets a 16 year old goth girl who says she’s Death, and the adventures they have for a day. The comic it’s based on is a fan favourite, and with Gaiman at the helm it promises to be a pretty good adaptation of the work. Also Guillermo Del Toro is executive producing, making it basically a perfect storm of geeky awesomeness.

Gaiman has suggested that Terry Gilliam would be able to get Sandman right, but to be honest I’m pretty sure Gilliam has an ancient wizard’s curse on him at this point, and should be made to stop making films before they kill any more actors.

Doctor Who: Waters of Mars- Fundamental Misstep or Master Plan?

I just wanted to get down a few thoughts about the latest Doctor Who special The Waters of Mars, because I’m so on the fence with this one I’ve got splinters in my backside. On the one hand, it was a gripping, genuinely scary story with a tragic and moving ending. On the other it was derivative pap with an ending that might just invalidate everything that has come before.

It should be pointed out that this article is riddled with SPOILERS, so if you haven’t seen the episode yet, go do that first and then come back. We’ll still be here, barring any unforseen server apocalypses.

First, the good. Waters of Mars is a tight, fast-paced and gripping adventure, with a unique and downright scary as hell villain, The Flood.

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It also manages to flash out the crew and give them believable backstories before starting to kill them off one by one.

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But the bad, for me, comes with the ending, and what it does to The Doctor as a character. People have their own nitpicks with the episode itself, about how it’s sort of a rehash of every other isolated base story on Who for the last four seasons, including “42″ and “The Satan Pit” the suit from the which the Doctor is conspiculously wearing here.

But for me, that ending is what gets my fanboy blood boiling. I absolutely detest the idea of the Time Lord Victorious, the Doctor as the Bad Guy. That is a fucking retarded idea thought up by a retard who got hit in the head by a retard-beam. He’s The Fucking Doctor, the thing the monsters are afraid of, the guy who shows up and saves the day, the last of the Time Lords. He is not the Bad Guy. Not ever. Even when characters think he’s the bad guy, they’re essentially wrong. Yes, he brings destruction in his wake, but never intentionally. It’s always in the wake of the Doctor trying to help. If you write a story with him as the bad guy, you’ve just fundamentally misunderstood what makes the show and the character work. Tortured, yes. Misunderstood, yes. Maybe even brash and overconfident, yes. But wilfully arrogant and prideful, exactly like a certain arch-nemesis? No. Never.

I admit a lot of that is screaming fanboy reaction, but seriously- to have the Doctor decide the rules of time and space are now worthless after everything he’s lost and sacrificed over his 900+ years is ridiculous. Even given the impact the Time War had on him, he’s still the Doctor. Come on.

The line that especially got me was when the Doctor refers to the people he’s saved over the years as “little people”, and Adelaide pulls him up for it. She’s absolutely right to do so, but the show is wrong for having the Doctor say it. The Doctor would never refer to people as “little”. He’s become enraged at despots and tyrants in the past who have.

Which of course is what Davies was trying to show, how far he’s fallen, but it just happens so quickly, only to be mercifully nixed moments later in a second of self-reflection. Why did it need to be there in the first place? You could have had exactly the same scene, the same outcome, but make the Doctor’s motivation altruistic instead of arrogant. “Dammit, I can’t just walk away and listen to them die. I am going to help those people LAWS OF TIME AND SPACE BE DAMNED!” and so it’s his kindness that is his Achilles Heel, that in stopping these people from dying he’s trying to thwart the universe itself, which is too big perhaps even for the Doctor, and the Lord of Time is made to know his own limits, whether he wants to or not.

Don’t make him a dick, for crying out loud.

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I’ve been a defender of Davies in the past, but man, this episode made me wonder if it’s all been luck that’s been driving the revival. The trouble is, on reviewing the older epsiodes, especially the specials, one realises that Davies has been building towards this for some time. As far back as the first series the Doctor was being referred to as The Lonely God and made to be a figure of might and terror rather than of dashing heroism or bumbling competence. In The Runaway Bride, Donna tells the Doctor he needs a companion around to ground him, and sometimes, even stop him. And in Voyage of the Damned there’s this line from Mr Copper “Of all the people to survive, he’s not the one you would have chosen is he? But if you could choose, Doctor, if you could decide who lives and who dies…. that would make you a monster.”

No, what would make you a monster is if you were to indelibly screw up one of the most perfect shows ever made by stuffing around with what makes it’s main character great.

I’m sure the final two part special, airing over Christmas and New Years, will do a lot of heavy lifting to redeem the Doctor and give Tennant a good send-off. At least, that’s what I hope is going to happen. What I hope doesn’t happen is some retarded fanfic-sounding nonsense where The Master is cast as the Good Guy (complete with angelic blonde hair) with his companion-wife working to thwart the evil machinations of this renegade Time Lord, this Doctor. I think you could do that story well, but I now have no confidence that Davies has the chops to pull it off.

Tennant’s run as the Tenth Doctor has been incredible, almost to the point where you could point to him as the “definitve” version of the character. I never thought anyone would be able to take away that mantle from Tom Baker’s Fourth Doctor, but there you are. But I’m getting increasingly nervous that this story is going to ruin that legacy, and leave a bad taste in fan’s mouths right when the series needs some stability with Matt Smith taking up the role. I sincerely hope it doesn’t. I hope Tennant gets the sendoff he deserves, because he’s been brilliant. But last time pays for all.

An Interlude…

All is quiet and dark in the olilolo Tower. Light lances in through the blinds in my office, a pale message sent from the city outside. I am asleep. The sound of my snoring is like two gorillas fighting with chainsaws.

Suddenly, the drone is broken by  my office door slamming open, and Doyle walking into the room. He slams the desk sharply, making a loud bang which causes me to start awake and reach for the knife I have hidden beneath my desk. He’s ready for this, a resigned wariness born of past experience, and simply steps backwards as I lunge blindly with the knife in a wide arc in front of me. We’ve lost three interns this way.

I manage to focus my eyes on the figure and recognise it as Doyle. This does not, I should note, cause me to put down the knife.

“What do you want?’ I ask. Speaking hurts my throat.

“Stu, it’s 10pm” he says. “You’re a little under 2 hours  away from failing the November Challenge. You remember the challenge, you set for yourself, in a pathetic attempt to try to wrest away the crown of most awesome writer at olilolo from me?” He points to the cardboard crown adorning his shaggy head, it’s stuck-on glitter making it sparkle like a vampire.

“Jesus!” I yell. “Why didn’t anyone wake me?”

We both look at the knife I am still holding in front of me.

“Never mind,” I say. “Oh God, I’ve got nothing. I’m going to fail the damn Challenge, aren’t I?”

“What have you been doing all day? It sure as hell isn’t work.”

“Bruce took me to the beach. The BEACH. Everything’s covered in sand. And there’s not an ounce of shade near their big pool thing. It’s ridiculous.”

Doyle looks at me with an unreadable expression on his face.

“Anyway, “I continue, “as soon as I got home I collapsed in a heap. I’d been drinking whisky to keep my fluids up but I just couldn’t stay awake once we got back to the Tower.”

“Well surely you’ve got something ready to run,” says Doyle. “I’ve looked at the edit logs; you’ve got enough material squirrelled away to last you til the end of the year, let alone November.”

“Yes, but they’re all rough notes and article ideas, not properly written articles. I’ve been writing them as I go. It’s killing me Doyle!” I finally drop the knife. “I thought I could take it but I can’t! Every day is like a great sucking void demanding to be fed and I’ve got nothing to feed it with. I haven’t felt this worn out since you told me “Oktoberfest” lasted every single day of October.”

“Surely you can just get the interns to ghost write for you?”

“No, I tried that. It all fell apart when they posted an article under my name at the same time as I myself was sitting on the roof of the Story Bridge Hotel, showering the staff with what I was apparently calling a “turdpocalypse”. People started to talk, saying it was disgraceful I wasn’t writing the posts on the day. Also there was some stuff about sanitation but I’d tuned out by then.”

Doyle paces the room thoughtfully. Suddenly, he come to a halt, and swings to face me.

“Why can’t you just do a recap post?”

“What do you mean?” I ask. “I did that article about hats the first week.”

“No no, not that. Listen, you know how sometimes TV shows have to make up an extra episode to reach syndication, or maybe a key actor gets sick and they have to write a storyline with his character in hospital and they all stand around reminiscing about things that had happened, which gives them an excuse to show clips from previous episodes?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Doyle grits his teeth. “Just post links to some of your older articles. Like that time you said you didn’t want another Nolan-helmed Batman film, and we got angry letters for a week. Or the time you bought a new car. And wrote about it, like a boring arsehole.”

“Oh, I get it,” I say. “So, I could just post a link to that Meta News thing I did and pass it off as new content?”

“Sort of, yeah. Of course you’d have to wrap it in a hastily thrown together fluff piece, probably using a framing device of some sort. But as long as you sell it right, you can link to things like Mineral Moments,that nerdy proposal for a superhero TV show, or even that piece you wrote glorifying a maniac psychopath.”

“Could I even link to The TV Chronicles?”

“No. No one wants to read that shit.”

I look at Doyle, tears of joy brimming in my eyes. “Thank you, brother,” I say, picking up the knife and waving it lovingly at him. “You have saved me from failure. I will never forget this.”

“I need 20 dollars.”

“GET OUT OF MY OFFICE!”

“Rove” can also mean “walk” which is what Rove McManus did last night.

…from his show of over a decade.

The decision had apprently been in the pipeline for a while, but Rove decided to go out without much fanfare last night, which was, regardless, the last episode for this year anyway. Still, this was a bizarre way to close out Australia’s one and only variety talk show. It’s not like it’s one of several, and it’s disappearance will pass without comment. It’s ROVE. Like it or loathe it, it’s become an institution.

I caught onto the whole deal about halfway through the episode. I wasn’t actually watching the episode, of course, because it’s Rove, and Rove has basically been terrible for at least the last couple of years. But I did spot “#Rove” starting to trend on twitter, and when I clicked on a link, several thousand people were talking about how Rove had announced he was giving it all away. Well, this I had to see. This was Australian Television History in the making, the end of an era.

I remember when I first saw Rove, back when the show was called Rove TV or something and it was on Channel Nine. Australian TV at that point was all fairly bland, and this little scamp from Perth with his Beardo mate and a girl made some of the most original, off-the-wall comedy I’d ever seen. They’d stop interviews to ask what underwear the guest was wearing, break character and have a skit in the middle of the show, openly mock the variety show format, all the while with a cheeky grin on Rove’s face, as if to say “and they’re paying us for this”. Americans and Britons are spoiled by their numerous late night talk and variety shows, all catering to different humour markets. In Australia before Rove, it was all just bland boomer shit. And then he changed everything.

That freshness and sense of newness lasted about a year after he moved to Channel 10. Then, slowly, I just stopped watching. This isn’t entirely Rove’s fault either. This is around the time I basically stopped watching TV altogether on a regular basis, not out of some sort of snobby “all TV is shit” kind of attitude, but just because nothing was interesting me any more. But Rove had definitely slipped into a groove which seemed very comfortable- almost like the shows he’d been railing against when he first started out.

And as I watched the final episode last night, I was starled by just how far down that road they’d gone. I’ve watched a few snippets of Rove here and there over the last few years since the show moved to Sunday nights, so I was familiar with some of the stuff they’d been doing. Hamish & Andy and Ryan Shelton in particular seemed a good fit for the show, Shelton especially bringing a lot of off-beat humour to his philosophy segments. But ultimately it all felt a little flat. The audience barely laughed except in the pauses where the floor managers were undoubtedly miming “laugh” to them as hard as they could, and everyone just felt tired and non-comittal.

Also, Peter Helliar was terrible, but that’s not news. Peter Helliar has always been terrible. Just terrible.

So maybe it was a good idea to end it now.  The ratings were still fairly solid, although nowehere near the show in its heyday. But it had the sense that everyone doing it wanted to be somewhere else. Better then to let it go, and remember it as a groundbreaking Australian variety show, rather than the sad, tired behemoth it became.

And hey, now we can look forward to the ineviatble reunion special in 20 years that is marred by racial controversy. I can’t wait.

Ways the World will end- Oceanic Dead Zones

All right, so you know how people say that the Amazon and other large rainforests are the Earth’s lungs, and by chopping them down it’s like the earth smoking a pack a day and slowly losing the capacity to breathe? Well, it turns out that the rainforests don’t actually produce the majority of our oxygen. Before you fire up your chainsaws for some recreational logging, understand that it’s still probably a bad idea to cut down enormous chunks of rainforest. But that’s a discussion for another day.

The interesting thing is that it turns out a great majority of the world’s oxygen comes from microscopic plants floating on the surface of the ocean. These plants are everywhere in the oceans, and they generate huge amounts of breathable air. It’s a good thing human beings don’t treat the ocean like an enormous toilet/waste disposal system then, isn’t it?

Delray_Sewage_Pic

Oh shit.

Scientists have been noticing for a few years now that large expanses of ocean now are essentially “dead”, as in, all of it’s plantlife has died, rendering it unable to produce oxygen. The areas are getting larger with each passing year, and with each passing year the world gets shorter and shorter of breath. Eventually, it will suffocate.

But we’ll probably all starve before we get to that point, because marine life will have died out, and with most fish and aquatic food sources removed, the ecosystem will be in serious imbalance. Take a major piece from the bottom of the teetering Jenga tower that is the Earth’s biosphere and everything tumbles. Only you can’t get bored and go play Guitar Hero afterwards.

So that’s why my fallout bunker is equipped with both hydropnics bays and breeding tanks. It’s good to know I’ll eat salmon while the rest of the world eats gruel.

Weekend WTF

Ancient myth and lore tells us of several fantastic and wondrous cities, which are for the most part lost or hidden to regular mortals. The great lost city of Atlantis, long ago sunk beneath the ocean waves. Bonny Brigadoon, only appearing in the misty Scottish highlands once every hundred years. And Chako Paul City in Sweden, full of Nordic lesbains.

No, not really, if such a perfect thing were to exist it would signal Ragnarok. The legend of the sapphic city states that it was founded in 1820 by a man-hating widow, who encouraged all like-minded young nordic lasses to come and live in the city for some healthy outdoor calisthenics and lots of salads.

The city is purported to today contain 25 000 residents, all of them Scandinavian lesbains. The lure of such a city is such that when reports surfaced in Chinese media, literally million of calls flooded into Sweden’s various tourist agencies asking how one goes about organising a Con Tiki Tour to Chako Paul.

Now of course this city is merely a myth, a product of someone’s fertile imagination. Claes Bertilson from the local tourism agency says as much in response to media inquiries about the legendary town-

“At 25,000 residents, the town would be one of the largest in northern Sweden, and I find it hard to believe that you could keep something like that a secret for more than 150 years”

Of course, if I lived next to a city of tens of thousands of beautiful lesbians, I’d probably want to keep it to myself as well, so take him with a grain of salt.