Blog - "Missing A Beat"

One of my idols growing up, and certainly to this day, was Gomez Addams. Even though I'd only seen the role portrayed by Raul Julia, the charm, inverse wit and determination to see his family succeed at any and all things proved inspirational, and I learned all I could.

While this was certainly a character I associated with, the more I look back, the more I recognise that the standout performance did not come from Raul Julia, regardless of his immense ability. Instead, the greatest acting result has to have come from Christina Ricci - playing Wednesday Thursday Addams.

You've got to hand it to her; she was barely a child amongst much more experienced actors, and her deadpan deliveries could rival Alan Rickman. I mean, child actors generally play very cheerful roles, but this girl made a simple smile look both wrong and obscenely sinister. 

She's been in a few things since, and her talent only seems to increase with age. I saw her in a double episode of Gray's Anatomy most recently, playing an overwhelmed paramedic, and I was shocked by how young she still is. Admittedly, said episodes were filmed a little while ago, but not so long ago that she's been growing wrinkles and cobwebs since. This woman has barely started. She has so much more to give.

Hollywood: take note. Use Christina Ricca. I certainly would.

Blog - "Resistance"

Something interesting came up a while ago at work, and I thought it might be something that people might be interested in, so I think putting a question forward might be an idea of merit.

The question is a fairly simple one. Would you, during World War Two in particular, join the French Resistance?

I expect an answer has leapt to mind rather quickly, which is typical of an occasion on which something with intense moral implications is asked, but let me throw some additional doubt into the world of choice.

First off, you would have to actually be French, being that it's their resistance, not yours. This means that you'd have to be constantly surrounded by French people. Picture it. You'd have to eat snails, try it on with any and all women, whether attractive, hideous, smelly or bloated. During the Second World War, Hitler literally marched into France, camped in and took over.

Even now, the French would surrender to a muddy footprint. Their resistance is infamous not just because it worked hard in extreme conditions, but also because it stands out against a backdrop of the complete surrender of the rest of their country.

Consider, if you will, the means at your disposal if you decide to enlist. There's no food beyond what can be either scrounged or stolen. You're constantly under threat of death, betrayel and simply leading a God awful life. The mortality rate was incredible. Your chances of success are positively French.

The option is always there of not resisting. You could roll over like the rest of the people of France, and greatly increase your chances of survival. The generally rule would be that, despite being French, you'd be largely safe unless you were Jewish, Gay or not German. Honestly, unless you fall under one of those three, you'd be absolutely fine.

So those are the options, and the situation you find yourself in. How many friends could you make and lose? How many people would you have to kill in the name of putting up a fight? Does anybody on either side truly deserve to die?

Would you, during World War Two in particular, join the French Resistance?

Blog - "Secondary Heroes"

Our subject today: Lando Calrissian. Our topic: secondary heroes.

Now, the concept of a secondary hero is one you see everywhere, in almost every piece of work. Even the infamous 'Lone Ranger' had an assistant with his adventures, which isn't exactly lone, is it? Bruce Lee, in the film 'The Big Boss' had a cousin who was a decent fighter, but wasn't quite good enough not to die.

That, there, is the recurring theme. Secondary heroes are generally considered to be good, but not as good as whoever the main hero is. The Companion in Doctor Who serves the purpose of being an every day character, who knows practically nothing, but somehow manages to help out on sheer humanity.

My main example here though, is Lando Calrissian, who shows, pretty much perfectly, how secondary heroes are the least realistic of the hero brand, not because of their own limitations, but because of the lack thereof that is applied to them.

There are clear and obvious heroes and villains in Star Wars (referring at this point to Star Wars as episodes 4, 5 and 6, as 1, 2 and 3 blurs the lines from obvious into confusing), which are Luke Skywalker, Leia Organa and Han Solo.

Your original secondary heroes; Obi-Wan Kenobi, C-3P0, R2-D2 and Chewbacca, serve clear purposes. The droids are there for exposition. C-3P0 serves to explain the story when concerned that the viewer might not be able to keep up. R2-D2 is there to take away obstacles that allow for certain situations to occur. For example, the issues with the Millenium Falcon allow a rescue for Luke in the Cloud City, as well as giving Vader a last chance to communicate with him, then R2-D2 takes them away. Obi-Wan is a teacher, and dies in order to display the talents of Darth Vader, thus making him more intimidating, and Chewbacca is a second pilot, showing that Han Solo can't really be that callous and selfish, because he travels the Universe with a friend and companion.

The bad guys, Darth Vader and Emporer Palpatine, can be difficult. Vader is quite clearly the primary antagonist, despite being secondary in the chain of command. This is likely one of the reasons that the films were so successful, being that it is against the run of play for most films, in that time and overall. You tend to have the big antagonist as the big evil, the most capable and scary, while, instead, Vader is the Emporer's henchman.

Then we reach our additional secondary hero. The one who turns up in the middle of the series, is a bit of an arse, then less of an arse, and generally takes on the role of the token black man for a little while, until Return Of The Jedi, where he actually becomes a believable character. The unbelievable issues are a lot to do with reputation. The man was an Adminstrator, doing paperwork for a place he won at a bet, and made a living through cowardly avoiding pissing off the Empire.

Why exactly would the Rebel Alliance decide to make him a General?

Yes, this pisses me off. For a whole attack on a Death Star containing the Emporer and Darth Vader - the two most terrifying of all the Empire's accrued population - they decide to allow their entire fleet to be led by a man who gave up two of their Captains to said Empire. They allow a military captaincy for a man used to crunching numbers.

And this is the problem with secondary heroes. They're not as heroic as you're typical heroes, but they're generally treated like something far in advance of that. The unexplained back story is extremely exaggerated in order to match their abilities up to those that we already know, but the same back story is spoken of so very rarely that most writers no longer seem to bother.

For example, we know how Luke, Leia, Chewbacca and the two droids get into Jabba's Palace, and we know Han Solo is there already; how does Lando sneak in? Not a clue. He's too secondary to have his scenes shown.

This man has a whole book series dedicated to him, but his role in the films is Paperwork Monkey - Guy Attempting To Over A Guy While Jedi Overpowers All Guys - General Of The Rebel Army.

How? Just...how?

Stupid bloody secondaries.

Blog - "The Humble Pacifier"

First post back in a while, and it's going to be a rant about Pacifiers.

Now, in no way am I referring to that most utterly terrible of films, 'The Pacifier', or any of the million or so films in exactly the same vein. I'm actually talking about the traditional dummy that you stick in a child's mouth to stop it crying.

You see, that's the problem. What you're doing is shutting the child up, regardless of if said child is screaming, crying or just talking animatedly in words it understand, but you do not. Communication is generally valued as one of the few things that separate us from the animals, as it were. We need to encourage children to attempt communication.

If you want to give your child a dummy, let's ask ourselves why. Your child might want the dummy, in which case, congratulations, it's an addict before it's out of nappies. Awesome parenting there. There are other reasons though.

Is the child crying? So you give it a dummy? How stupid is that? It's crying because it needs your help. A child can hardly feed itself, warm itself or prevent itself from sitting in it's own shit. Your parenting duties are necessary. Why are you basically patting said child on the head and saying "shut up you little bastard" in a voice as sweet as Haribo?

Or perhaps worse, is your child trying to talk to you? Children take a while to learn to talk, but when they do it becomes one of their favourite things. Mummy and Daddy talk, now Baby talks, they're a big one, et cetera. Talk to your child back. Help it develop the talent and you might end up with a child just as intelligent as you are, or more so.

My niece has never had a Pacifier. Instead, if she was making a scene, her Mother told her to shut up and punished her as necessary if she did not respond to it. I don't understand how a well disciplined child would refuse to. More often than not, Lydia (said niece) will just chat animatedly to you. She's two years old, and she can already hold a conversation about the weather. That alone makes her capable of talking to every single British person that has ever been born.

"It's cold out."

"Yeah, quite cold."

See?

Pacifiers suck.

Blog - "The Philosophy Of Transformers"

Hello dear readers,

Today has been rather monotonous, and so, when a random current thought struck me as odd, I decided to delve into it. The question is quite simple.

Would you class Transformers as alive?

Consider, if you will, the nature of life, as philosophy states. The concept of "I think therefore I am" is surely an outdated one in the light of such wondrous thinkers as Orwell and Cameron; modern day philosophers who gave us 1984 and The Terminator respectively. People have been arguing it for years: whether life is, in fact, reality or just some strange expression of somebody else's laugh at our expense. The ideas of back and forth dreams are a constant, but, be that aside, surely everybody believes in some form of definition as to what constitutes life.

The Transformers, as I'm sure most if not all of you know by now, are entirely mechanoid in design, with no organic component present in their make-up. Their DNA is Hexidecimal code. Their memories are log files. Does this make their artificial intelligence any less potent than our own? Surely, with their access to a central server hub of shared information (Trans-WiFi, if you will) would grant them far greater knowledge and awareness of their fellow man.

Erm, bot.

So that's the question I've been wrestling with for about four minutes, and making no headway on. 'Are Transformers alive' is, in my mind, a much better question that 'are we alive' since that shit never ends.

Blog - "The Vanishing Act"

A couple of people have noticed my general lack of activity lately, and I'd just like to apologise for that. Thankfully, my time away has only served to make me more opinionated than ever. In no way have I ran out of things to say.


A collapsed fire escape (high five for health and safety right there) resulted in my being told very politely to vacate the premises. My landlord was very apologetic, but fire safety being what it is, his choices were limited and I don't blame him at all.


Now, about a week before this happened, a girl moved on to my floor. I say girl rather than woman for reasons of petulance which will later become apparent. There was some history of sexual and physical abuse, but out of respect I won't delve any deeper into that.


I gave her somewhere to stay and agreed to find a new place with her rather than by myself. Having recognised the symptoms of her condition, I wanted to help.


She and her gigantic German Shepherd, Shadow, have been staying with me in my interim location for over a month now. She decided to add another flatmate. I accepted this as her needing a wider support network. She pressures me for bank statements, then she fails the credit check. She pressures me for references, then can't get a Guarantor to cover herself. She refuses to tell potential landlords that she has a pet, or smokes, or is a student, et cetera. Her casual denial of anything that might risk out future location is incredible. Then, of course, she fucks off for sixteen hours a day and leaves me with the dog without as much as a warning.


The final straw was, and this does make me laugh, paperwork. As I was preparing an Internal Tenancy Agreement to cover things like pets, rent and cleaning, she first refused to sign anything, then refused to believe that it could possibly be made legally binding. When I assured her otherwise, she called me a liar. I did not enjoy that.


Sometimes, when you look for the good in people, it simply isn't there. She's gone now. A week ago, I would have been worried. Now though, I simply feel much, much better.


Inside me, in some dark place, there's a happy person who, after two months of stress and work, is finally starting to wake up.

Blog - "Successful Failures

So, I've decided what my next column series will be based on. I'm going to do 'Successful Failures In Marketing'.

This might sound oxymoronic, and that's the point in a way, but in another way it isn't. While you have some wonderful failures in music that ended up being marketing wonders (anything Axl Rose does tends to make Slash look absolutely fantastic, as an example), it's also very easy to take this consideration away from music. Perhaps the most infamously successful marketing failure would be Paris Hilton and her fabled sex tape, which made a dull, sad, selfish, whiny bitch a minor celebrity that the world could very much do without.

Box office flops often become infamous in their own way. Firefly, a series cancelled for increasingly poor ratings, has become a cult hit. An ancient and inherently flawed programme named 'The Prisoner' was recently re-made with Ian McKellen. In addition, any footballer constantly in the newspapers will earn noteriety. Rio Ferdinand and Frank Lampard have both features in sex tapes of their own, and Lampard's one of the good ones (comparitively). Wayne Rooney wore shoes that weren't made by his new sponsors, and thus he was plastered all over the front pages, earning a lot of attention for both the old sponsors and the new ones.

Music is admittedly still supposed to be my focus, but I'm not exactly where I was when I started Marketing Methods. I'm having more trouble thinking up musically related concepts for it. I can likely write seven hundred words on The Who, and Jimi Hendrix. I'm also considering conversing over certain rumours that surround Pink Floyd's Dark Side Of The Moon. You know the ones. Everybody knows the ones. (If you don't know the ones, please Google the ones, as I think everybody should know the ones)

Then there's the Wii: a stupid name that propelled the console to becoming the single highest selling gaming platform to have ever existed. I mean, come on, it's called the Wii. You know, like wee.

To finish, I might make mention of Matt Bellamy and Kate Hudson's (Almost Famous definitely being my favourite film of hers) newborn child: Bing. That's got to be a piece of genius somewhere down the line.

It has to be, right?

Blog - "A Drastic Change"

There is a rather big thing about to happen on Monday; something that I am very nervous about. For the first time in seven years, I am about to have short hair.

Now, for a lot of people, I wouldn't imagine that this is a big deal, but, for me, it is. My long hair has been one of my defining features. Before I had long, black hair, I also didn't have a partner. The hair has done wonders for my popularity and has made me a wonderfully distinct character. At this point though, I'm a little bored of it. Seven years is a long time.

My inspiration for the cut style is a rather generic one. I'm hopefully going to be getting some pictures done then and there as well. I am a little worried, but with all of the additional effort I've been making on my appearance, I do feel that the laziness required to have hair like I do is no longer about. I originally decided to grow my hair purely because I was sick of having short hair. Now, after many years of it being part and parcel Tom Colohue, to the point where it was the first thing in the lead up to the name change, it's time to put it to rest.

That said, I'm still a bit scared it might not go right. More often than not, mirrors are not my friend but, sometimes, I quite like it. What if it goes wrong?

Little scared.

Blog - "There Was A Boy"

Hello good readers,

It's been a busy couple of weeks for me, but now I have a laptop again, and a lot of work to be getting caught up on. I've been working on Disbelief again, which has been a long time coming, and I'm in the revisions section now. Progress is slow, but we are getting there.

A couple of exciting things have been happening in my life recently. One of my interviewees, Alex Hulme, if anybody should remember the name, launched an EP called 'There Was A Boy'. He sent me an e-mail about it, sent me a copy (two copies in fact) and a signature (which is important to me these days). There were several launch parties planned, and I received an invite to the first one at The Pickerings Hotel in Garstang, near Preston.

I expected about a hundred people to be there, in a moderately busy hall. In the end, the number was closer to three hundred, and the place was packed. Upon walking in I thought, "I'm glad I brought company, there's no chance I'll be able to spend time with Alex or his record execs like this." As it turned out, I was wrong. Alex set time aside for me, and even bought me a drink. The old Tommyfest feeling of welcome came back strong, and being surrounded by artists and gifted performers reminded me of my time at The Dukes.

Put simply, I was in my element, exactly where I wanted to be in life.

I'm now writing a review, which will be released as soon as it's ready for the people here, on Ultimate-Guitar, on the Cityscape Records website and as far as they can get it too. I would advise anybody with the opportunity to experience at least one evening of Alex Hulme, before he gets so big that the chance is gone forever.

Believe me, that will happen.

Blog - "Single Season"

You know, it seems sort of like this is the season to be single. I've been single for a while, so I can't claim to have been affected too directly, but people around me just seem to be falling apart.

Obviously, I can't supply particular names, tales or details, but suffice it to say that things are really starting to fuck themselves up for some close friends of mine. It's a typical sort of relationship implosion, but it's suddenly happening everywhere. The inevitable decay of life abruptly, an without warning, steps it up a beat. It's rather disconcerting overall.

Now, don't be too surprised if I choose to remain a pessimist; I've never much been one for sharing, or relying on other people. That said, it makes me hopeful that other people can manage to survive making the compromises and submissions ever apparent in the early months of a new relationship. Just because I can't handle it myself, doesn't mean it's not worthy of a little admiration.

I'm told that, after a certain amount of utterly failed relationships, you're pretty much supposed to lose all faith that there's a future for you, but, for me, I had the pleasure of having that idea proven wrong. I was granted the privilege or watching love flourish before my eyes. Yes, my own relationships have failed, but while other thrive, I have faith.

So please, people around me, find a way past your differences. Stop being selfish; think about me.

Review - "The Mad Man's Box"

So, this weeks episode of Doctor Who was a bit of a nostalgia trip, though in a backwards sort of way, which managed to make a lie out of everything Russell T. Davies wrote about The Doctor being lonely and yet, still, managed to completely eclipse Steven Moffat.

While The Doctor's generally renewed Colin Baker-ness is in full swing, and he lets another creature find its way to death in this episode, the audience were treated to a far more important piece of characterisation: the TARDIS, in human form.

The set, as usual much darker than those in previous series', was a scrapyard this week, containing broken bits of TARDIS and, chameleon circuits in a state of full repair, less recognisable broken bits of TARDIS. The characters of Auntie and Uncle were strangely likeable, despite there being very little time with them.

Amy and Rory, in this episode, largely seemed there as an afterthought. It seems to me as though the writer, Neil Gaiman, was not altogether interested in them, but they did serve to add the right amount of additional peril. When trapped together, their minds being played with, Rory in particular is forgotten because he's not actually targeted by any of House's tricks. He might be in Amy's head, but Rory just keeps running.

The interior of the TARDIS was a perfect throwback to previous generations. This surprised me, considering how Moffat has chosen to re-invent the Doctor as a much more America-friendly character of late. When hearing that we, the audience, were being taken to a previous control room, I was quite excited. However, I'll admit to being a little disappointed with the control room that they chose.

Nephew, the Ood, seemed like a one-trick pony. His job could have quite easily been taken up by a dodgy radio, and he adds little peril to the dying moments in the TARDIS. House himself, though obviously capable of causing great harm, had an entirely monotone voice, which ruined the 'fear me' line for me personally. The Doctor himself had no power in his voice for his rebuttal, and the music barely emphasised the moment.

Now, dialogue, and here, I think, we're onto a winner. We had a bit of a false start. (I don't know why Moffat insists on almost all scripts containing 'basically, run' in them) Thankfully, after our dear TARDIS and Suranne Jones appeared on the picture, that all changed. ("Biting's like kissing, but with a winner," "I stole a Time Lord and ran off" etc.) Not only did her presence encourage The Doctor to become more like The Doctor than he's been since the Big Bang Two, but it also earned similar responses from the other characters. (Amy: "Did you wish really hard?")

I will compliment Suranne Jones most certainly. Everything from her accent, through posture, to her grace made her much more interesting than any role I've seen her in previously. Portraying the TARDIS itself must be increasingly daunting, but she rose to the challenge spectacularly.

That said, this is a woman who is capable of matching the Doctor's wit and intelligence because she's a technological device that's been with him for seven hundred years, and she couldn't last long. She was a character. River Song remains a complete Mary-Sue.

Finally, the 'soap-bubble' theory actually checks out quite well, annoyingly.

Blog - "Monty Python"

Monty Python's Flying Circus is, in fact, a comedy sketch show that has few to no recurring characters at all, and yet it's one of those programmes that draws me in the strongest.

Over the years, many secrets have emerged concerning the lives and lifestyles of the six original members of Monty Python. Some of them come out of the blue, while some of them are no surprise to anybody. Being able to look back on the lives that these people led previously is impossible, but art does have a wonderful way of imitating art.

A perfect example of the truth emerging is a Michael Palin moment, where a mention of The Spanish Inquisition, long after this particular sketch had been played out, confronts him with the giggles.

Another is any number of Palin and Cleese sketches when the two of them were on stage. They did absolutely everything in their power to put each other off and make it as difficult as possible to perform, with Palin often coming up short under the immense comedic presence of John Cleese.

In the films, and the series, tricks come out via preferences. Eric Idle is the one most often called on to impersonate a female because the others believed him the most attractive when donning female dress. This might also be something to do with the fact that the rest of them, when in long dresses and push-up bras, often wore fake moustaches. Idle's own sketches mostly involved either a lot of talking or singing, and singing is the path that he eventually pursued.

Palin and Jones seemed at their best when writing sketches involving outdoor travel, such as the entire episode dedicated to Palin's 'Mr. Pither' travelling on a bike tour. Palin now makes a living travelling around the world.

Graham Chapman, arguably the best actor of the six, is, unfortunately, no longer with us. As everybody in the world is sure he would have wanted, John Cleese ensured that his entire funeral ended up roaring with laughter. How often do you see that?

Nowadays, you'd be hard pressed to get them all in the same room together. However, at the time, these men were inseperable, and it shows in their obvious devotion and respect to and for each other.

Blog - "Doctor Who?"

I'd just like to ask who on Earth that was masquerading as The Doctor in the most recent episode of Doctor Who?
 

Now, to start from the beginning.

In this last episode, The Day Of The Moon, Doctor Who, a character of over nine hundred years, completely changed before our very eyes. Let me explain how.

The Doctor, as it were, has a strong character foundation that follows certain rules, and strives to uphold certain concepts above all else. For example, Martha Jones once asked Davros to surrender in the firm belief that The Doctor would always ensure that whatever opponent he faces was given the opportunity to leave by its own merit before he ever considered violence. He abhored violence in fact and consistently attempted to instil this virtue in his companions.

There were moments when this broke, but he was so proud of his companions for saving him from himself.

In this episode, he specifically encouraged the entire human race to commit murder from 1969 until the end of the universe. That includes every man, woman and child. Not only that, but he encouraged absolute genocide. Not even the Daleks, his greatest enemy, have taken him to that point.

Also, he was impressed at River's ability to kill his opponents, encouraging more violence there instead of bothering with rational thought. This gets worse when you realise that, using his screwdriver (a tool for repairs) to attack.

This is never something that The Doctor, as he has been since his first incarnation, has been happy to do. Tennant's Doctor was completely depressed to see anybody fighting for him and killing in his name. Smith's has already offered to help a race of people, be it fish people, that tried to destroy an entire city and their population. In order to avoid any chance of genocide, he offered whatever help he could give, despite any misgivings.

What's the answer then? His reasonings? Simple. This episode was designed for a false American stereotype. It was Doctor Who, but designed to appeal to what a Scottish writer believes an American audience to want. It was predictable, it continually labelled the President the most powerful man on Earth (which the Doctor would never admit was anybody other than himself) and it gave several far too obvious answers to the key questions that people actually tuned in to learn about.

This was not inventive, and it was not even an episode of Doctor Who, because it didn't star the Doctor. It just starred somebody in his skin.

The fans, and those who firmly believe that this is one of the greatest English exports since Monty Python, should be insulted.

Blog - "Digimon"

So far, I've detailed two rather intellectual programmes, if I do say so myself. Six Feet Under and Bones are both about exploring the human condition, and I plan to continue that theme, in a way. My next programme though, is a little different.

Some of the most popular films, television shows and stories revolve around the infamous 'coming of age' story, and this is most often told to those younger than the people coming of age themselves. With that in mind, let's have a look at the first season of Digimon: Digital Monsters.

Digimon follows the story of seven children, who become eight later during the story, who find a gate to the Digital World. In the Digital World, digital data, such as that transferred over the internet, evolves and gains a life of its own, as information often does. The children interpret this world using ideas and memories that they are familiar with, such as snowmen, dogs and dinosaurs, as well as a monkey Elvis impersonator.

The most obvious and remarkable thing about Digimon is how obviously rooted it is in science. It holds up to close scrutiny very well, after a little examination. Much like Silent Hill, the world is prone to interpretation, while the science behind the digital constructs is quite solid. It won't be foolproof at all, but there are plenty of lessons there.

Then, we have the characters, and this is what is truly impressive. Each of the main characters have clear and defined character traits and abilities. Their arguments are caused by their differing personalities, and the psychology behind their reactions is entirely plausable. This isn't Pokémon, where you have one entirely flat character and then a pervert and a girl. These are believable characters where you can find parallels.

The two lead characters of Tai and Matt, for example, and two very different personalities. While Tai, the natural leader, shows clear optimism, guides using a courageous example and goes into every fight ahead of everybody else, Matt is the opposite. He encourages people to play to their strengths, is more of a realist and fights mainly as a supporting offensive. Their digital monsters are, in fact, a solitary balancing figure in their lives. Tai's is just as courageous, strong and eager to battle. Matt's is primarily just a friend to him, since his honest and somewhat pessimistic character often makes him difficult to get along with. The truth is that all leaders need this counter-balance.

The coming of age part is very well done due to how the group dynamic develops. At first, they all show similarities, hold together as strongly as possible and all is very obvious and clear in their development. When split up, the reality comes out, and, depending on the people that they're with, certain characters move to compensate, while others do not.

There does come a point where you realise, quite suddenly, that everybody's own story has developed right under your nose, and they're all going off in their own way to pursue it.

It's quite an emotional finale too. Like a lot of stories of a similar ilk, such as Dragonball Z, you have a bad guy, then another bad guy, then another bad guy. Ultimately, this is supposed to be the most interesting stuff. It doesn't work that way though. The different characters traits will offer you a parallel, and you get drawn in.

For me, of course, it's Matt. I love him.

Blog - "Bones"

Next up on my list of Friday favourites: Bones.

I should likely start with the similars.

CSI, in all of it's incarnations, bores me. Law and Order, in all of it's incarnations, bores me. NCIS, in all of it's incarnations, bores me.

Bones does not, despite the remarkable strand of similarities between them. I'll tell you why; the characters.

The two main characters, portrayed by Emily Deschanel and David Boreanaz, are best described as both sides of the human coin/condition. One is more rational, one more passionate. I've always found myself admiring the way that Deschanel's character views the world. The utter simplicity of her reasoning, and the meaning behind each and every thought and action. She can be entirely devoid of aggression or religious input, yet still retain her own personal impetus. It's thrilling to see such a character shown as anything other than 'wrong'.

The bad guys, as well, play a part in dividing this show from the rest. The Gravedigger, as an example, is a criminal who chooses to kidnap people, bury them alive, then demand a ransom in exchange for GPS co-ordinates to them. Rather than catching said opponent in a single episode, it takes multiple, including a trial, before the bad guy is the victim of a murder themself. These are obviously well layered and thought out characters.

All in all, still thrilling.

I am, however, thoroughly infuriated that my favourite character left at the end of the third season, though I understand.

The real message to take away from this one though is not the characters, but what they do. The meaning, as can be seen in each and every piece, is that you can always be recognised. Even if people take your life, your skin, your teeth, your clothes, your flesh and your family from you, people can work out everything about you just from a piece of bone.

When I write, I grind into a piece of bone that I lean my pen on. Years from now, when I am nothing but bones, I'll still be a writer.

Blog - "Shopping"

This is likely going to be a strange one: consider yourself forewarned.

Did you ever see Monty Python's Flying Circus? This blog isn't about that, but they do several bits where they dress us a women and make jokes about shopping. 

It always starts as such:

Woman1: You been shopping?

Woman2: No, I've been shopping?

I hate it when I come in with bags of clothes and people say 'you been shopping?'

I am not, and never will be, a fan of shopping, especially when it comes to charity shops. One of my least favourite memories as a youngster involves the utter thrill of standing in a cramped and confined little charity shop for almost two hours while my mother and sister looked for cheap dresses.

Whenever I go to see my sister, or if she comes here, we somehow end up engaging in that most infuriating of pastimes. During the day, she will always look at me and say: "you're not enjoying this, are you?"

No, I'm not, but I'm still here, aren't I? Isn't that the point? I'm making a point of doing something I dislike in order to spend with somebody I don't dislike.

One thing that I do like about charity shops, and this is the only thing, is that one moment when the eyes of two males meet and express their utter disgust with their surroundings. I quite like that.

Want to know if I like you? Take me shopping.

Blog - "Six Feet Under"

Likely the best place to start would be with one of my favourite televisual series' of all time: Six Feet Under.

Six Feet Under tells the story of an ensemble cast working in or affected by those working in a funeral home. The constant backdrop of death flavours the majority of the programme, with all episodes containing a scene in which a character dies. Their life, seen through the eyes of the central cast, become a lesson to those that continue to live.

A word that I've seen used a lot to describe the programme is 'unflinching', and I find this perfectly apt. There is no fear from the writers, nor the actors portraying the roles, when it comes to such a widely known sensitive topic. Death, it tells us, is a certainty, and something that we should acknowledge without fear.

Far from being the only subject matter, death is also not the only thing around which a total lack of fear is shown. The writers take a blunt and, at times forceful look into the world of a true homosexual, the loneliness of a widow, the overindulgence of the creatively stifled and onwards. My personal favourite is the examination of the way those with mental health impairments are treated by the outside world.

There are two main characters who show serious mental imbalances. While one is constantly wrestling with problems that they find intensely difficult to control, the other keeps her situation relatively in-check, but both are largely ostricised due to their conditions. Fear, it shows us, is that which creates the problems.

All of the characters, though different and with their own integral meanings, show through their actions and activities that it is fear that is their enemy, while facing their problems without regret or self-pity drives them to strengthen themselves. I particularly enjoy the development of the Brenda Chenowith character, especially within the first two of the five seasons.

She is utterly mental, and I adore everything about her.

Blog - "The Great Race"

Hello magical people who live inside the equally magical box on the second floor of my local library.

A couple of days ago, I challenged a friend of mine to a sort of race. It's a very simple system. We both have profiles on Ultimate-Guitar. I've been involved in a lot of work, so I've managed to accrue just over thirty-nine thousand profile views. This is, as he put it, a humbling number.

He has much more natural charisma than I do, though that isn't altogether difficult to achieve. He is a talented musician, plays gigs around the country and has five times the membercount of my fan page on his. Put short: his popularity far exceeds my own. Despite this, he's been away from UG for a while, leaving his profile with just over eleven and a half thousand views.

The race is simple. If he can reach twenty thousand views before I can reach fifty thousand, he wins, and he can use whatever promotional materials are at his disposal. There's no 'within reason' ruling here - I want to see if my writing can hold me ahead of the marketing might of a seasoned promoter. It would be a good exercise for me, and for him, I think.

It could well take me the better part of a year to reach fifty thousand. It wouldn't surprise me. After all, UG has been going strong for over a decade now and nobody has reached a hundred thousand yet, even the camwhore girlies. There's a challenge there. We both have Asperger's, so drawing attention to ourselves sort of comes naturally in a strange sort of way.

Wish me luck, dear magical people who live inside the equally magical box on the second floor of my local library.

Blog - "Character Analysis"

Hello again.

I'm not quite back yet. My laptop is still down, so this is a library call. A public computer. I feel a little sick inside just thinking about it.

There's a lot of research to be done when you're a writer. Some is quite obvious: reading differing perspectives, analysing characters and examining the flow of moments so as to avoid characterisation, crossed paths and general confusion. Some is less so. I intentionally watch shit TV. Pokémon and Cardcaptor Sakura, as examples, contain such flat and meaningless characters that no matter how hard I analyse there's just nothing there to find. It's like turning off my brain and having a waking nap. You know, it's nice.

That said, there are some televisual pinnacles that offer the exact opposite in character analysis. Whether it's just the one interesting character or a whole horde of them, there are some shows that draw me in just because I love the characters so much.

I've set myself  bit of a challenge for the coming weeks. I'm going to take the favourites from my research and try to explain that appeal within one blog post, uploaded every Friday. I have about seven in mind as we speak. Some you might know, while some you likely won't. This is a good thing; there's adventure in the unknown.

There are a few more things I'm working on in the meantime, but I'll be avoiding Friday uploads when it comes to that.

Hope you enjoy it.

Blog - "Ode To Turvy"

Hello readers,

You are unfortunately about to read a eulogy of sorts. That's right; my laptop died. It is a sad, sad day for me.

Turvy (Laptop > Top > Topsy > Topsy Turvy > Turvy) has been standing by me for over two years, bravely putting up with everything that I've put her through. I've used her to work, I've used her to play, I've used her to watch episodes of Doctor Who while I've been sitting on the toilet. She was the perfect companion to me, but for the last six months, the fifteen hour per day routine has been wearing away at her until, yesterday, she just couldn't handle the stress anymore and collapsed only three hours and two thousand words into the day.

She will be missed.

Now, if I can bitch about how hard my life is for a minute...

I'm writing this on paper. Paper. The last time I wrote on paper I quite literally ground the bone of my finger down to nothing. There's no way I can keep up with my thirty-five thousand words a week routine on paper. Plus, I just lost the file containing my work in progress play for the Dukes. I'm never getting that back now. Thank goodness Disbelief is all backed up (and the back up is the file I actually update). I nearly lost all my pornographic pictures of ex-girlfriends too, and god knows they should never fall into the hands of anybody else.

It is a sad, sad day for me.