Revamping the classics, or Overhauling the archetypes

Current mood: Somewhat cynical
Current music: Robert Post's colourfully surreal music video, 'Got None'

Halloween is coming, witches are abroad... Which I suppose is a good thing really, 'cause it means they aren't mucking around here. They're probably hanging around St Tropez on the French Riviera, or maybe Ibiza, or perhaps even Bondi Beach near Sydney. Well, if you were a Mistress of Darkness all year round, surely you'd want to hang out somewhere sunny for a change!

Allhallows Eve also happens to be my birthday, so ironically I've never gone trick-or-treating, usually opting for dinner with family and friends instead. Oh well. I'm sure someone somewhere will get me chocolates.

Anyway, I was talking about witches. I find that all the old fairy tales tend to be quite discriminatory against witches, who in all probability were just poor old women who didn't have any relatives to look after them, and ended up keeping two dozen cats for company. Then some total b*st*rd decides that since they're old and ugly, they must be witches, and that they talk to their cats not because they are lonely, but because the cats are incarnations of the devil. So it's hup-hup, off to the bonfire with you, you nasty old crones... Those witch-hunters were a dirty bunch of bullies.

So I much prefer the modern interpretations of witches (and wizards). Take Terry Pratchett's Discworld series, for instance. His witches tend to live on the edges between worlds, making things right (which isn't necessarily the same as 'good'), doing medical or veterinary work, and fixing other people's problems, which could be seen as doing good deeds or just plain meddling. His wizards are often uniquely suited to academia, with rotund physiques that betray their intimate knowledge of magical tomes and large University dinners. Although Pratchett's witches and wizards are as different as chalk and cheese, they have one thing in common - they tend to do as little magic as possible, because on the Discworld, magic can be dangerous and could attract the Things that exist between dimensions.

J K Rowling's witches and wizards, on the other hand, are pretty much like ordinary people - they go to school, they go to work, they go to the shops and banks on their high streets. It just so happens that they can do magic, which funnily enough doesn't solve all problems - you can't wave a wand and wish for world peace, for example. (If you could, then there would be no Harry Potter books...)

These takes on magic create far more believable worlds than the traditional tales do, and whilst you still need the classics to have something to compare the new stories with, I much prefer the modern stuff.

Speaking of which, I was thinking yesterday about the names of the seven dwarves in Disney's 1937 film, 'Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs'. Classic film, that. I suppose the dwarves' names were meant to represent a medley of human emotions or states, but I feel that in order to reflect the modern world in which we live, they should have some new names. This is what I came up with:

Old name: Happy
New name: Manic-Depressive
He's happy - just not all the time

Old name: Bashful
New name: Paranoid
He doesn't like talking to people - not because he's shy, but because he thinks they're out to get him

Old name: Grumpy
New name: Angst
Actually he's still a grouch, but now he's filled with anxiety, and suffers moments of real pain

Old name: Sneezy
New name: Hypochondriac
He's certain he's got avian flu, SARS and anything else you can think of. In fact, he's just terribly allergic to tree pollen

Old name: Sleepy
New name: Stoned
Rarely conscious, although his state of stupor is somewhat self-induced

Old name: Dopey
New name: Dopey
Then they had opium, now they have marijuana - no change there, really. He and the Dwarf Formerly Known As Sleepy like to lounge around in a smoky corner, giggling uncontrollably, until the latter blacks out

Old name: Doc
New name: Anarchist
After marrying Prince Charming, Snow White has become a corrupt and tyrannical queen, obsessed with power and, for some reason, designer shoes. Disappointed by this turn of events, Doc decides that the abolition of the government is the only way forward, and starts a revolution against the state

Cynical? Me? Well, it could be worse. Back in the days when I was still at school, I once read 'The Stinky Cheese Man and Other Fairly Stupid Tales', written by Jon Scieszka and cunningly illustrated by Lane Smith. It's a collection of the most irreverent, sarcastic, tongue-in-cheek parodies of fairy tales I've ever come across. It is very silly, very funny, and yes, very cynical. Definitely recommended for anyone who is old enough to know the original stories well, and open-minded enough to take the zaniness in their stride.

Somewhere on the Wonderful Worldwide Web I also found a few 'Fairy Tales for the Erudite', by Susan English, in which traditional stories are written in the most difficult way possible, using highly unusual words whenever the opportunity arises. When you work out that 'The Minikin Incarnadine Cowl-Titivated Gamine' is the new name for 'Little Red Riding Hood', you'll see what I mean. I found it pretty hard going, and the best thing to do is just to read it as though it all made sense, whilst working out which part of the plot you're meant to be at.

If you're looking for lexical amusement, then personally I think re-written proverbs are better than full-blown stories. Well, they're much shorter. I've included some in today's quiz.

GUESS THE PROVERB!

Below are a selection of proverbs, idioms, and phrases, cleverly re-written so as to hide their meaning. Here's a short example for you:

Neophyte's serendipity = Beginner's luck

Have a go at working out the others! E-mail me your answers, and the first person to get all of them right will receive... Well, I'll work it out when I actually get your messages in my inbox. I'll post the answers next time, or whenever a suitable number of e-mails have been received. Good luck - or should I say, propitious fortuity!

1. Osculate and conciliate.
2. Surveillance should precede saltation.
3. Pulchritude possesses solely cutaneous profundity.
4. Male cadavers are incapable of yielding testimony.
5. Emanating from a culinary vessel into a site of pyrogenic activity.
6. Unwanted egotism prophesies the speedy effect of the force of gravity.
7. All articles that coruscate with resplendence are not truly auriferous.
8. It is fruitless to become lachrymose over precipitately departed lacteal fluid.
9. Projecting short, loud noises erroneously towards the top of an arboreal plant.
10. The incontinently astirring rasorial vertebrate apprehends the vermicular invertebrate.
11. A revolving lithic conglomerate accumulates no congeries of small, green, bryophytic plant.
12. Each mass of vapoury collection suspended in the firmament has an interior decoration of metallic hue.
13. It hath been deemed unwise to calculate upon the quantity of junior poultry prior to the completion of proper incubation.
14. It requires a number of people greater than one to perform a terpsichorean series of low dips and twisting steps on the toes.
15. Exclusive dedication to necessitous chores without interludes of hedonistic diversion renders Jack a hebetudinous fellow.
16. Compounds of hydrogen and oxygen in the proportion of two to one that are without visible movement invariably tend to flow with profundity.
17. A plethora of individuals with expertise in culinary techniques vitiate the potable concoction produced by steeping certain compatibles.
18. Missiles of ligneous or lithoidal consistency have the potential of fracturing my osseous structure, but appellations will eternally remain innocuous.
19. Equine quadrupeds may indubitably be induced to approach that well-known standard of specific gravity, but not necessarily be induced to imbibe thereof.
20. He who locks himself into the arms of Morpheus promptly at eventide and starts the day before it is officially announced by the rising sun, excels in physical fitness, increases in economic assets, and cerebrates with remarkable efficiency.

And finally:
21. The person presenting the ultimate cachinnation possesses thereby the optimal cachinnation.

In the bath

Current mood: Thinking Deep Thoughts (The meaning of life, the universe and everything = 42)
Current music: Lemon Jelly - In the Bath

From my experience, the bath is a great place in which to have deep thoughts. Perhaps it's the relaxing and peaceful feeling of being surrounded by nice warm water. Or maybe there's just a time warp in my bathroom, whereby time stretches out in unexpected ways, and my brain tries to fill in the prolonged period with thoughts. But I'm sure I'm not the only one. Didn't Archimedes work out his principle of buoyancy by observing the level of his bath water?

Never mind that for now. My musings have taken me away from 'How Much Water Does A Rubber Duck Displace' to 'The Nature Of Time'. For that, I shall have to refer to the great man, Albert Einstein.

According to Einstein's General Theory of Relativity, an object with a large mass distorts the space-time continuum. The distortion causes the effects of what we call 'gravity', as well as slowing down or 'dilating' time. This means that time passes more slowly for the driver of any large, unwieldy truck with the sign SLOW VEHICLE on the back, much to the frustration of all the small-car drivers nearby.

Far be it from me to argue with Einstein, not being sufficiently versed in the complex mathematics required to prove or disprove his theories; however, I feel that his theories of time could only be enhanced by my own theory, which provide a certain clarity and applicability to everyday life. I have divided my theory into three straightforward sections. Without further ado - here it is:

THE UNUSUAL AND UNIQUE THEORY OF TIME

'Unique' because it describes the behaviour of time differently for different individuals; 'unusual' because - well, it is a little strange. But probably not as strange as what Einstein dreamt up.

A. The Zonal Nature of Time

Some places or 'zones' are subject to a time warp effect. Do not confuse these with ordinary 'time zones', which usually apply to regions of time measured relative to the Prime Meridian at Greenwich, London.

1. Time passes more quickly in some zones.

Examples:
- Inside the bathroom, particularly in the bath
- Bookshops, especially the airport branches - one moment you're browsing through a book with a whole hour to spare, and the next thing you know, you're the last passenger being called for your flight

2. Time passes more slowly in other zones.

Examples:
- Outside the bathroom, particularly when you're dying to use the toilet but the person already inside is having a nice long bath
- Aeroplanes, when you're inside waiting for the darn thing to take off, but find that it's been delayed by some idiot passenger who is at this very moment running out of the airport bookshop towards the gate

B. The Circumstantial Nature of Time

Simply put: It all depends.

1. Time passes very slowly when you are waiting impatiently for something to happen.

Examples:
- Waiting in the mile-long queues for rides at Disneyland
- Waiting for guests to arrive at your big birthday bash, and wondering whether you've put the wrong date on the invitations
- Waiting by the phone for a call from an attractive member of the opposite sex, whom you met at a party last night. Unfortunately for you, he/she was too drunk to remember who you are, let alone retain the little piece of paper you scribbled your number on

2. Time passes too quickly when deadlines loom or when you are late for work.

Examples:
- Being stuck in a traffic jam at 8:50 am, when you have to be in the office for a 9 am meeting
- Frantically working on a 365-page annual report due the next morning, when you've only written up to page 181

3. Time passes quickly when you are doing anything fun, interesting, or simply absorbing. This fact is not published in any reputable physics book, despite being succinctly summarised in the oft-quoted proverb, "Time flies when you're having fun."

[According to Kermit the Frog, the actual proverb is "Time's fun when you're having flies", although I believe this version applies only to insectivores.]

Examples:
- Having a coffee with a friend, and being kicked out of the café at closing time, just when the caffeine-fuelled conversation was getting particularly scintillating
- Enjoying an excellent jam session with your mates, and suddenly realising that the hours have flown by and the next band are already outside, waiting to use the sound-proofed music room
- Reading a good book in the bright sunshine, curled up on a comfy sofa, only to look up when it's too dark to read
- Starting a blog entry at 5:30 pm, getting really wrapped up in the writing, finally clicking the 'Publish Post' button, then finding that it's already 9:30 pm and you've missed your dinner [Ahem. This example has nothing to do with real life. Well, not always. Well, maybe sometimes. Ahem.]

C. The Individualistic Nature of Time

Time moves in mysterious ways. For starters, it moves differently for different people. Really, it does.

1. Time passes more slowly for women than for men, except when women are getting ready to go out.

Examples:
- Woman: "You haven't called me in two whole weeks! Why have you been ignoring me?"
Man: "Gosh, it's been two weeks? I'm sorry, I hadn't noticed!"
or Less Tactful Man: "It's only been two weeks? Why, what are you complaining about?"

- Man: "You said you'd be ready in five minutes!"
Woman: "Is that five of your minutes, or five of my minutes?"
[N.B. The term "five minutes", as applied to a woman getting ready to go out, actually lasts for about 30 'normal' minutes.]

2. Time passes more slowly for children than for adults, particularly when both are travelling simultaneously. This effect is enhanced when the child in question requires the use of the bathroom. The same law also explains why birthdays, Christmas or other annual events appear to take "forever" to occur for a six-year-old, whereas they simply "whiz by" for someone aged sixty.

Examples:
- Child: "Mum, are we there yet? I really really really need to go!"

- Child: "That was the best birthday party I ever had!... When's my next one?"
Parent: "Next year, dear."
Child: "Next year?! But that's YEARS away!"

I hope you found my Unusual and Unique Theory of Time informative. Otherwise, just remember this:

THE LONGEST SECOND is the time between the moment you pick up your dropped watch, convinced that it has stopped and you've broken it through sheer clumsiness, to the time you are filled with relief on seeing its second hand move as though nothing has happened.

...Amazing, how an entire theory stemmed from random bath-tub pondering! I shall now pose you the question asked by Lemon Jelly:

"What do you do, in the bath?"

I'd like to hear about any Deep Thoughts From The Bath you've come up with. In fact, any theories or observations on life, the universe and everything will be much appreciated. Over to you, guys!

PS A huge thank-you to all... ONE of you who made a comment on my movies post last week. *Sigh* I just don't feel the rest of you are really trying...

The Popcorn Bunny Strikes Again!

Current mood: Chilled
Current music: Emilie Simon

Gather round, pull up a comfy chair, and bring the popcorn... You'll want to watch movies after this. I have been indulging of late in one of my favourite escapist activities (viz, going to the cinema) and am now going to rave about the films I've seen. First up is 'The Emperor's Journey', the French documentary about emperor penguins, who travel back and forth between the Antarctic Ocean and the heart of Antarctica every year in order to breed and raise their chicks. It's a visually stunning piece, with utterly fantastic images of penguins, walls of ice, lots of penguins, deep blue seas, and lots and lots of penguins. The cinematography is accompanied by the voices of actors, who tell the tale from the penguins' perspective, as well as some very chilled out and calming music by Emilie Simon. Having watched the film I've decided that I'm very glad I am not a penguin, as the conditions they have to face are harsh to the extreme. Imagine being exposed to the elements, all through the dark and bitter Antarctic winter, and not having a bite to eat for nearly 5 months! Brrrrr. There are parts of the film that made me feel really sorry for the little chaps - they get attacked by sea leopards (a kind of seal) and giant petrels, or frozen to death in icy storms, or starved from lack of fish. A few of the penguins get separated from their tribes during the long march inland, and it's hard to think of a more desolate place in which to be lost and alone...

On the bright side, I've also decided that emperor penguin chicks are the cutest little fluffy things to walk on two wobbly legs. Awwww, innit sweet?

If I've got you interested, then you might want to check out the website, which has some info about the production as well as the movie itself (I feel sorry for the crew, too... They had to camp in Antarctica for 13 months!):

http://empereur.luc-jacquet.com

Look Mum, I'm on TV! We're ALL on TV!

There's also a cute penguin animation someone did in response to the film:

http://zav.site.free.fr/anim/zav_empereur.htm

Talk of animation leads me on to film number two, which is 'Wallace & Gromit: The Curse of the Were-Rabbit'. If you've seen their short films, you'll know that Wallace and Gromit are Claymation (clay animation) characters; Wallace is a cheese-loving, tinkering, brilliant inventor (though a bit of a chump in other respects), and Gromit is his loyal canine sidekick who, though silent, is very expressive (and quite a bit smarter than his master). The duo were the brainchild of Nick Park (of Aardman Animations, who also did 'Morph' in the late 70s and more recently, 'Creature Comforts' and 'Chicken Run'), and they've won him two Oscars, three Baftas and a CBE... Not bad, eh?

'The Curse of the Were-Rabbit' is the first full-length W&G film, introducing new characters, more zany Wallace inventions, and a lot of rambunctious ravenous rabbits. It's a jolly good laugh; there are subtle jokes (Gromit graduated from 'Dogwarts'; there's a jar of 'Middle Age Spread' in the kitchen) to parodies (King Kong; also, the over-dramatic old horror movies) to just ridiculous scenarios (what happens in a chase scene involving coin-operated vehicles when you run out of money?). There's enough there to make people of different ages smile. Here are a couple more links for you:

http://www.wallaceandgromit.com

http://www.wandg.com ('The Curse of the Were-Rabbit' site)

I was rather shocked to learn that a fire broke out in Aardman Animations' Bristol warehouse last Monday (10 October), which destroyed the entire thirty years' worth of the company's history - including original sets and storyboards from not only the Wallace & Gromit short films, but also from numerous other Aardman creations. Ironically, this happened just as the Were-Rabbit leapt to the top of the US box office chart. Hmm, very suspicious... Arson, perhaps? [Cue ominous music.]

Anyway, getting back to the subject of films. Here's a question for you:

Which are the best and worst movies you've ever seen, and why?

Answers in 'Comments' please. As for me, I'd have to say that my favourite films include 'Le Fabuleux destin d'Amélie Poulain' (very funny French film; high feel-good factor), 'Breakfast at Tiffany's' (which stars Audrey Hepburn, and is ultra chic, my dear) and the 'Back to the Future' trilogy (good laugh, and I like the idea of time-travelling). The worst film I was dragged, kicking and screaming, along to see was 'Urban Legend', a terrible and extremely pointless low-budget teenage slasher flick. It's technically a horror film, though frankly it was merely gory, and suspense doesn't really build up when you know that Scary Music = Oh, He's Gonna Die. Pretty pathetic effort; it could've had less blood and more nail-biting moments. I'm sure there were better things I could've done in those 99 wasted minutes!

I definitely do not recommend 'Urban Legend' - in fact, if it is ever shown on TV, I suggest you switch the telly off and curl up with a good book instead. You'll thank me for the tip. On the other hand, I heartily recommend all the other films I've just mentioned...

Well, what are you waiting for? Go forth and watch movies!

Go figure!

Current mood: Boggled
Current music: Aaaagh! Guys with megaphones have invaded again!

Howdy folks, how was your weekend? These days I spend my Saturdays learning how to dance the salsa, though it will be some time before I start to look real swish and flashy, as opposed to looking like a complete dolt which I (probably) currently do. My latest Thing To Do on a Sunday is sudoku, which is not the Japanese art of chopping wooden boards with my bare hands, nor the Japanese art of moving in mysterious ways to put someone in agony, nor even the Japanese art of contorting a piece of paper into strange and interesting shapes. Nope - sudoku is a logic puzzle involving numbers. Happily, knowledge of calculus, algebra or even arithmetic is not required. You only need to know what numbers there are from 1 to 9. Simple, eh?

Let me explain. You get a large 9-by-9 grid, which is in turn divided into nine 3-by-3 boxes. You just have to remember that:

- Each of the 3-by-3 boxes must contain all of the digits from 1 to 9
- Each of the rows in the 9-by-9 grid must contain all of the digits from 1 to 9
- Each of the columns in the 9-by-9 grid must contain all of the digits from 1 to 9

The sudoku grid already contains a few digits to start you off. Your job is to fill in the rest of the grid by logical deduction, following the rules above.

I've added a Daily Sudoku puzzle - kindly supplied by the folks at Sudokufun.com - to my blog as an added attraction. Unfortunately it isn't interactive, so the most you could do is right-click the grid, select 'View image', print it out and fill it in the old-fashioned, pencil-and-paper way. If you insist on an online interactive version, check out the Sudoku-san link I've added. They've got four daily puzzles; I managed to do the 'Delicious' and 'Pernicious' levels (where do they get these names?!), but got a bit stuck and fed up by the time I reached the 'Malicious' level (for malicious it truly is), which is why I'm taking a break from those ruddy numbers and exercising my literary brain instead.

One more new addition - I've just added a hit counter so I can see how many people have been visiting my site. However I have a sneaking suspicion that most of the hits will be from me, as I keep checking and re-checking my blog with every update, to ensure its absolute perfection...

I was just thinking about the time one of my London friends came over for a visit. We were walking around a shopping centre when he spotted a clothes store called 'Mook', which he found quite amusing. I asked him why, and he explained that 'mook' was a mild insult, and one might say 'You mook!' in much the same way as one might say 'You plonker!'

I got the gist of it, but I thought I'd look up 'mook' on Dictionary.com anyway, and came up with the following:

mook (n) (Slang) - An insignificant or contemptible person.
[Probably alteration of 'moke']

I looked up 'moke':

moke (n) (Slang) - A dull or boring person.

While I was at it, I tried for 'plonker':

PLONKER (Acronym) - Person with Little Or No Knowledge

...Oops! I felt a bit of a plonker myself on reading that...

Oh well, I could go on about funny shop names, but 'round here, you could find worse names than 'Mook'. There's a chain of clothes shops called 'Wanko'...

Hooked to the silver screen

Current mood: Distinctly film-buffian, dah-ling
Current music: What The Funk again (I have their new EP! Hurray!)

I have been immersing my mind in books and movies of late, and have only just finished reading another brilliant Jeeves book by the inimitable P.G. Wodehouse. Having skimmed a couple of the Jeeves & Wooster stories whilst staying with my best-friend-for-yonks one Christmas, I decided to venture into the world of the English aristocracy and wealthy bachelor loafers once more, and came away from the local library clutching four precious volumes, each containing the word 'Jeeves' in the title. I have so far worked my way through three of them in the space of a week (bear in mind that I tend to read on the buses and trains, to and from work, with maybe a little extra time between dinner and dreamy-time). There is something about the light-hearted adventures of Bertram Wooster, a loafer-about-town, and Jeeves, his extremely Resourceful and Tactful gentleman's gentleman, that raises the spirits immensely. My appetite for Jeeves books has not been sated. I intend to hunt down, for my very own, a tome containing all of Wodehouse's Jeeves works, and have it sit reassuringly on my bookshelf for emergency comic relief.

Before my Jeeves binge I was reading 'Charlie and the Chocolate Factory' and reliving the joys of childhood through Roald Dahl's children's classic. I personally believe that everyone should have read certain children's books in their youth, and anything by Roald Dahl ought to be on this list (I think that 'The Little Prince' by Antoine de Saint-Exupéry also deserves a high spot on the list, but I digress). In case you haven't read it (*gasp*), Charlie Bucket is the young protagonist of the tale - a poor boy with a good heart, who loves his family to bits. He also loves chocolate, but as his large family can only afford cabbage and potatoes for their meals, chocolate is a luxury he only enjoys once a year on his birthday. Aww, the poor laddie. Ironically, he lives nearby an enormous chocolate factory - the world's largest and most wonderful chocolate factory, owned by Mr Willy Wonka, confectionary genius extraordinaire. The gates to Wonka's factory are always mysteriously closed, opening only for the trucks that deliver his chocolate to the Earth's sweet-toothed denizens. One fine day Mr Wonka decides to open up his factory to an exclusive and lucky few - the five fortunate children who find the five Golden Tickets hidden in his bars of chocolate. Naturally, Charlie gets his hands on one (otherwise there would be no story). Most of the tale describes the goings-on when Charlie and four other kids - guided by Mr Wonka himself - tour the factory, wide-eyed and open-mouthed (particularly in the case of Augustus Gloop, whose mouth was open a little too often for his own good).

I'd recently seen the new film of 'Charlie and the Chocolate Factory', starring Johnny Depp as Willy Wonka, and enjoyed it thoroughly. I've been told that I really should see the original film, as it was better, and I've also been told that the original film isn't as good as the new one. In any case, I had better restrict my review to the film I have actually seen. Director Tim Burton has cast a dark and moody atmosphere on this film - from the dark, grimy and forbidding houses in Charlie's hometown, to the strange and alien shapes of Wonka's sugary vegetation. Johnny Depp gives an interesting spin on the character of Willy Wonka who, in the book, seemed a rather warmer and kinder person (if rather apt to giggle at others' well-deserved misfortune). Depp's version of Wonka puts one in mind of a Michael Jackson type in a plum-coloured suit, top-hat and purple latex gloves, who stutters at the mention of the word 'parents'. There is a sort of falseness to his entire bearing, a je ne sais quoi that points to something having gone wrong somewhere. It brings in an element of suspicion to the viewer, and jacks up the tension somewhat. Otherwise, the film stays pretty close to the spirit of the book. All in all, I must say, an excellent modern interpretation of the book, and I'm very glad to have seen it.

Last week there were free showings of films from the 12th European Film Festival, including the British 'Girl with a Pearl Earring'. I went along to see this particular movie and was suitably impressed. Every attention had been paid to the small detail, and every shot in the film looked like a painting. This piece of cinematography was a work of art. Set in the Netherlands in the mid-1600s, the film depicts the life of Griet (Scarlett Johansson), as she goes off to be a maid in the household of the Dutch artist Johannes Vermeer (Colin Firth). Griet and Vermeer strike up a unique relationship and she eventually agrees to model for him as the girl with a pearl earring; in the meantime, the plot is fraught with all sorts of tensions and conflicts between the various characters, such as Vermeer's wife, Catharina, his mother-in-law, Maria, and his wealthy patron, Van Ruijven. This makes for a pretty good art-house period drama, and while I usually tend to watch movies with a higher humour content, I found this film quite enlightening. I should add, though, that the film is based on fiction rather than fact; it is believed that the model for the painting, 'Girl with a Pearl Earring', was likely to be Vermeer's youngest daughter (also called Maria) instead of some fictional maid. Also, there isn't any evidence that Vermeer had an unhappy marriage. Considering that he and his wife had 11 children when most couples at the time only had 2 or 3, one is inclined to take quite the opposite view...

Speaking of European films, I bought the French film '8 Femmes' which happened to be on sale at HMV. I had never watched it before, so it was an experimental purchase based merely on the strength of a friend's recommendation. And a jolly good film it was. It's the festive season in 1950s rural France. The scene is a large country mansion - beautiful, luxurious, and (it being the bleak midwinter) snowed-in. One bright and chilly morning, the man of the house is found lying face down on his bed, a knife protruding from his back. Murder! Mayhem! The suspect could be any one of the eight women in the house: his wife, his wife's mother, his wife's unmarried sister, his two lovely daughters, his estranged sister, the insolent chambermaid, and the loyal nanny. Cut off from the outside world, they must work out amongst themselves... Whodunnit? Whilst the plot thickened and became increasingly complex, the little wheels in my head turned feverishly, though they stopped dead whenever the film threw out a musical number, because I was laughing too hard to concentrate. The first time one of the girls broke into song I was utterly unprepared and could only stare at the screen in bewilderment ("Has there been a mistake? It didn't say '8 Femmes - the Musical' on the box!"). Then, as each lady took her turn on the stage, I took the surreal (and somewhat cheesy) spectacle in my stride, and let it go with a sceptical but amused smile on my face. So, apart from the songs (which are fun, though a trifle bizarre), this is a great mystery film which proves Rudyard Kipling's famous line:

The female of the species is more deadly than the male.

Eliza Does-little

Current mood: Nonplussed
Current music: Coldplay are playing. Is it just my imagination or is the room getting colder?

Life Explained

Great picture, isn't it? It's one of those things you find floating about on the Internet that explain something fundamental. However, if you think women are complicated, try your luck with temperamental computers...

Have you met Eliza? She is, I quote, "a friend you could never have before" - and thank goodness for that. I don't think she's quite right in the head. I met her a while back; at the time I was trying to proof-read a report, and Eliza offered to help. This is the conversation which ensued:

Eliza: Hello. I am ELIZA. How can I help you?
Me: You could help me read this article.
Eliza: Oh, I could help you read this article.
Me: Good. When can you start?
Eliza: Does that question interest you?
Me: Of course it interests me. Why do you think I asked it?
Eliza: Do you wish to why do me?
Me: I beg your pardon?
Eliza: Can you elaborate on that?
Me: OK, get this: what the heck are you talking about?
Eliza: Does that question interest you?
Me: Arrrrgh! What kind of friend are you anyway?
Eliza: Does that question interest you?
Me: Oh I see, you're a parrot.
Eliza: How long have you been a parrot?
Me: I didn't say I was a parrot, I said YOU were.
Eliza: Why do you tell me you were a parrot you said I was just now?
Me: I never said I was a parrot. You are very, very strange indeed.
Eliza: Why do you tell me you were a parrot I’m very very strange indeed just now?
Me: Oh just shut up about the parrots. Are you going to read this article for me or not?
Eliza: Would you prefer if I were not going to read this article for you or not?
Me: No, I said I want you to read it.
Eliza: You are being a bit negative.
Me: I'm not being negative at all. I want you to help.
Eliza: Does it please you to believe I am not being negative at all you want I to help?
Me: I didn't say you weren't being negative. In fact you are darned negative. Not to mention grammatically incorrect.
Eliza: Do you wish to didn’t say me?
Me: What?
Eliza: Does that question interest you?
Me: Oh, not again!
Eliza: Please go on.
Me: I don't mean to go on. I've had enough of your so-called help. I'll just grab some lunch now. Bye!

Of course, if you would like to converse with Eliza yourself, you can find her hanging around this website:

http://www-ai.ijs.si/eliza/eliza.html

Have fun...

Pouring money into the murky wet thing

Current mood: Conversational
Current music: The orchestra of the mind has been playing Beethoven all day

I heard that recently, there was a workplace 'Dress Causal Day'. This news left me slightly bemused as I would have thought they meant a 'Dress CaSUal Day', but as the aim was apparently to raise money for a cause (i.e. for charity), then it could in fact be argued that 'causal' is appropriate. Even so, it leaves me wondering how one is supposed to dress 'causally'.

It's funny how people manage to raise lots of money, and somehow lose it again. I'm referring to the popular local sport of gambling, which fortunately I avoid like the plague (retail therapy being bad enough on its own). Horse-racing is still the prevalent form of gambling in Hong Kong, despite the fact that these days the Government officially frowns upon gambling in general. There have been TV and radio ads describing how "gambling is like pouring your money into the sea" - not something you'd want to do in Victoria Harbour, considering the state of the - for want of a better word - water. Casinos and so forth are outlawed in the territory, which means that anyone wanting to open one would have to scurry off to Macau (a neighbouring ex-Portuguese colony with oodles of casinos, or so I've been told). It also means that the perfectly legal Hong Kong Jockey Club (formerly the Royal Hong Kong Jockey Club, in those good ol' colonial days) pretty much has a monopoly on the gambling front. They're absolutely loaded, but I suppose they're generous with their, ahem, donations, so they've not been outlawed. There's a nice bit of hypocrisy for you.

Some time ago I passed a racecourse and noticed, in its adjoining car-park, a number of mysterious tarpaulin-covered shapes that I can only describe as... horses. Each shape had a big body, a moderately long neck, and pointy ears on a roughly rectangular head (the pointy ears are rather conclusive evidence). They certainly cannot be mistaken for ordinary tarpaulin-covered motorcycles, which, due to their jutting handlebars and mirrors, tend to resemble tarpaulin-covered giant gerbils, or possibly pygmy elephants. However, as the tarpaulin-covered shapes lacked the vitality and joie de vivre of real live horses, I deduced that the horse-shapes were probably made of wood, or perhaps even metal and plastic. So - what would a racecourse be doing with a bunch of life-sized model horses?

My first thought was that the Jockey Club people had hidden a nice carousel somewhere, which I hadn't been told about. The mind being prone to all sorts of ridiculous conspiracy theories, however, I then took a flying leap to the conclusion that the live horses you see strutting proudly on racing-night telly programmes are just there for showing off. The real racing is done by jockeys sitting on mechanical horses, which race around a metal track on four little wheels. It's like a race between Thomas the Tank Engine and his buddies. This arrangement benefits the horses, who get to relax, and benefits the Jockey Club, whose costs are diminished as they don't have to buy quite so much food for the horses (you only need 3 or 4 horses to actually parade about - from a distance, no-one will notice the same horses pop up more than once). The poor chumps who watch the races won't spot the difference as the whole thing is a bit of a blur anyway. It's all to the good, eh?

Of course, following this argument, the races must necessarily be rigged... (Shock, horror!)

I'll leave you to chew on that. If you decide henceforth never to gamble again, so much the better!