Wednesday, 26 August 2009

Fearless

I have never been a big fan of spiders. I wouldn't say that I was ever arachnophobic, especially since I can quite happily catch an errant eight-legged visitor to my flat using a glass and a coaster, before depositing them safely outside, but I just don't really like them. So it was with a mixture of dismay and fascination that I met a Chilean Rose spider at an animal handling session at Wingham Wildlife Park in Kent on Monday. The handler started us off with a pair of cute baby lemurs, before progressing to a young raccoon, then a baby alligator, and finally a royal python, before bringing out the finale.



At first, I decided not to handle her (she's called Rosie). However, I remembered that I have a reputation as being fearless to defend, and so thrust my phone at my mother with the instructions to take a photo, before sticking out my hands. I can honestly say it was bizarre, but not a bad experience. She was so light that I could barely feel her sitting on my palm, and the fact that she was furry simply let me look at her as a fuzzy creature instead of a spider.

I don't think I'll ever actually like spiders but now I think I'm a lot less worried by them.

Thursday, 13 August 2009

Inspirational Flashes

A single shoe sits in the gutter, sheltering beneath the bumper of a battered VW Polo. The cracked red leather is spotted with splashes of dried mud. A dead spider floats on the stagnant water that pools in the shoe.

Whose shoe is it? Why is it in the gutter? How long has it been there? What happened to the owner, or even the spider?

It's moments like these that remind me why I write.

Friday, 7 August 2009

In cyberspace, no one can hear you scream

Twitter went down for a while yesterday. Apparently, it suffered a "denial-of-service attack". Essentially, too many people were directed to the site at the same time, which stopped those actually wanting to use the site from logging on. I can honestly say that as much as I enjoy using Twitter to pass the time, the very fact that it was offline for a few hours didn't bother me in the slightest. I wish that I had so little on my mind that I could be devastated at the loss of a social networking site. There is even a trending topic on Twitter today, #whentwitterwasdown. I couldn't resist adding my own thoughts - "I simply got on with my life. I just didn't tell anyone about it."

Reading the answers of others, they range from people being unaware that Twitter was down, to people assuming they must have a problem with their Internet, to people simply not caring, to people feeling isolated or lonely that they could no longer connect through the Internet. I can relate to the first and third groups, as there is plenty that can be done that doesn't involve Twitter. Work, for example. One user tweeted that she hadn't realised Twitter was down because she was spending time with friends in the real world. Another tweeted that she spent the time catching up on reading blogs. Someone else started combing Amazon for bargains.

As for the second group, I find it slightly worrying that users place so much faith in the power of a social networking site that they believe that the Internet itself must be having problems, rather than accepting an individual site may be plagued by technical gremlins. It reminds me of the time Google went down, and people began predicting that Google being offline would be the death of the net.

As for the fourth group...I truly hope that those who tweeted about suffering withdrawal symptoms are being sarcastic or facetious. I find it slightly worrying that people have become so addicted to being able to constantly tell people every little thing that pops into their heads. It's like digital Tourettes. Twitettes, perhaps? So you couldn't publicise the minutiae of your life for a couple of hours...big deal! What did you do before Twitter came along? You probably picked up the phone and talked to someone that you actually know, out there in the real world. Yes, I know the world is big, and scary, and often a harsh environment, but it's real. It's concrete. It actually exists. You can have proper relationships with people, and actually enjoy the company of a real human being.

I know some people use Twitter as part of their work and naturally, its absence must have been frustrating, but no more than if you'd had a power cut and couldn't get online in the first place. Technology will always have its ups and downs and you have to learn to roll with the punches. Use the time you'd normally spend on Twitter doing something else. Maybe you'll find a more productive way to do something. Learn to see the world slightly differently, instead of through Twitter-shaped spectacles.

In cyberspace, no one can hear you scream. Unless, of course, you feel compelled to tweet the fact that you're screaming, in which case it's akin to running into a room filled with people and shouting "I am screaming!" before running back out again.

Thursday, 23 July 2009

Public Enemies

So I went to see Public Enemies last night. I had high hopes; after all, I've yet to see a Johnny Depp film I didn't enjoy (in my universe, the two Pirates sequels don't exist). Oh, Hollywood, how you continue to let me down. Was it not enough that you buried the Indiana Jones franchise last year? You didn't twist the knife with all the "hilarious" family sequences in Transformers 2?

Kudos to them for the casting of Depp as bank robber John Dillinger. I don't know much about the man in real life, but Depp portrayed him as a charming Robin Hood type, robbing banks but never their customers, ever mindful of his adoring public. Unlike his somewhat violent and thuggish associates, Dillinger would prefer to use the fear engendered by his various machine guns and pistols, as opposed to the bullets they fire.

But exactly what was Michael Mann thinking in casting Christian "I haven't opened my mouth properly to speak since 1999" Bale as Melvin Purvis? I used to simply adore Bale back in his American Psycho days, but since then, he's lost some of his sheen. The fact he seems to play the same character over and over doesn't help, and in this case, it feels like he's reprising his 3:10 to Yuma role, in which he was out-classed and out-acted by Russell Crowe (there's a sentence I never thought I'd find myself typing). In that film, he played the reluctant lawman escorting Crowe to prison, while in this film, he plays a reluctant agent in the fledgling FBI attempting to get Dillinger into prison. In both cases, his co-stars outshone him in every way, portraying their criminal characters as lovable rogues. Bale, on the other hand, portrays his with all the charisma of a mouldy Stilton.

My other two problems were the clunky narrative (please, leave the 'skipping about with little exposition to explain what's going on' to Quentin Tarantino) and the constant shaky cam. It does not make a film feel more realistic - if I were running in real life, my brain would automatically compensate for the fact that the world around me would appear to be jumping about. In a film, this doesn't happen, so instead it simply looks like you dropped a film camera into the monkey enclosure at London Zoo and asked them to tape something.

And it's so long. My right knee actually seized solid with the herculean effort of sitting still for all that time. I mightn't have minded if I'd enjoyed it, but all I could think was "Nice to see Depp taking on a proper role, instead of his 'Woohoo, look at me, I'm CRAZY!' casting of late, but pity about everyone else"...

Tuesday, 14 July 2009

One Word

A couple of months ago, Demi Moore posted a link to a website called One Word. As the title would suggest, you're given one word and sixty seconds to write something. The aim, much like the very good Write Or Die, is to simply get you writing without much thought about what it is that you're writing. After all, that blank page is often the killer for creativity - that blank page can seem like a mountain too high to climb, and the words simply refuse to come.

So today's word was "lazy". Below is my sixty second splurge on the word.

Lazy. Not doing anything. Not able to do anything, not willing? No motivation or just no desire? Or is laziness true happiness? The ability to let that which does not matter truly slide? The ability to put aside the stuff we think we need to do in order to do the things we actually want to do? Is it a shirking of responsibility, or taking control of our own destinies?

Monday, 13 July 2009

Flash Fiction #2 and #3

More flashes written in response to challenges on the EditRed website.

The Oldest Trick
Emascula the Great waved the wand above his assistant. The audience gasped and cooed with delight as she pulled the swords from her body, tossing them to the floor with a clatter. She posed, apparently unscathed. Emascula smiled cheerfully, but sighed inwardly. These cretins were so easily fooled. Parting them from their money was the oldest trick in the book.

Dragon's Teeth
"How long did you say it would be until the harvest?"
"If the weather holds out, these will be ready for you in two weeks".
"Just two weeks? My, that is impressive. That should give us plenty of time to get them armed before the King's last stand. Though I forget, what is it that you've been sowing?"
"Dragon's teeth".

Tuesday, 7 July 2009

Flash Fiction #1

This was written in response to a writing challenge on EditRed a couple of years ago, but I wanted to repost it here. It's called "The Joker".

The darkened room holds the game in its silent clutches. Flames crackle and dance like frenzied showgirls in the fireplace. The table creaks in time to the sighs of the players. Concentration hardens the faces that loom from the shadows, solemn and focused. A flicker of light caresses the edge of a silver blade. It splits the darkness, and meets its target. Cards are thrown into the air. A heavy chair falls back, spilling the player onto the cold stone floor. The cards scatter harmlessly across the heavily pocked surface of the table. Only one lands face up.

The joker.