Happy New Year!
Friday, December 31, 2010
Just for a riband to stick in his coat...
As time passes, which is what it usually does, my instinct grows stronger and surer that I will never be offered a royally sanctioned honour. I trust that, in the event of a catastrophic administrative error (“...for services to writing about fey Swedish indie bands and vaguely competent Japanese restaurants”) I would have the presence of mind to refuse such a bauble; although, every New Year’s Eve I find news of one or two people whose acknowledgment by the shadowy decision processes seems entirely right and just, and I can’t begrudge them their fleeting date with Her Maj, or whoever happens to be doing the pinning. This time round it’s the thoroughly splendid Burt Kwouk, OBE. Bloody well done, sir.
What I can’t be doing with is the sort of response that Dame Harriet Walter gave: “I have reservations about some parts of the honours system. I fear it’s not very fair and I think there are lots of people not recognised who should be,” she said, before claiming that she accepted her promotion because it would allow her to speak up in defence of theatre. It’s beyond me why she feels a daft title gives her this right more than, say, the fact that she once simulated acrobatic rudeness with Bill Nighy. If you turn an honour down, it’s up to you whether you make the fact public; if you accept the gong, you implicitly accept the whole idiocy that goes with it. The only exception is people who accept peerages, who really do have the opportunity to boot down the edifices from the inside. Not that many take it, mind you.
Anyway, I’ve just received a text message from some poncy sunglasses shop, advising me of an “Aggressive new year sale”, so I’m rather concerned that 2011 will arrive wielding a sock full of snooker balls. I trust that all my lovely readers have a less traumatic transition to the new twelvemonth, even those of you who haven’t been awarded anything. And to play you out, here’s something from someone else who’ll be ambling to the palace in the next few months:
What I can’t be doing with is the sort of response that Dame Harriet Walter gave: “I have reservations about some parts of the honours system. I fear it’s not very fair and I think there are lots of people not recognised who should be,” she said, before claiming that she accepted her promotion because it would allow her to speak up in defence of theatre. It’s beyond me why she feels a daft title gives her this right more than, say, the fact that she once simulated acrobatic rudeness with Bill Nighy. If you turn an honour down, it’s up to you whether you make the fact public; if you accept the gong, you implicitly accept the whole idiocy that goes with it. The only exception is people who accept peerages, who really do have the opportunity to boot down the edifices from the inside. Not that many take it, mind you.
Anyway, I’ve just received a text message from some poncy sunglasses shop, advising me of an “Aggressive new year sale”, so I’m rather concerned that 2011 will arrive wielding a sock full of snooker balls. I trust that all my lovely readers have a less traumatic transition to the new twelvemonth, even those of you who haven’t been awarded anything. And to play you out, here’s something from someone else who’ll be ambling to the palace in the next few months:
Wednesday, December 29, 2010
In Character: Udi Zahavi
The first of an occasional series of blogs, from the point of view of characters in the work in progress:
****
There's a passage from Proverbs that defines my purpose: "Without guidance do a people fall, and deliverance is in a multitude of counsellors." You might be thinking that makes me a man of the faith, but that's not the case. That passage is the mission statement of my agency. I'm the director of Mossad.
I was born in Israel to a life of duty. My father's father came here when our people were marginalized, when we had no country of our own. My mother came after the War. After the Shoah. Her entire family was wiped out in the Holocaust, one small fragment of so many others killed at the whim of the Nazis. She survived only because she was hidden. I've lived all my life with the stories of what happens when we become a target of those who hate us. I've grown up with the sensation of living under siege.
For most of my life, my country has had to deal with tense relations with its neighbors. At one point or another, we've fought them, and fought them well. We've dealt with violence in our own borders, from people who'd like nothing more then to see us wiped off the face of the earth. We've lived with being threatened since we founded the nation. Since long before that.
My faith, whatever it might be, is in my duty to my country. I've risen through the ranks of the Mossad to the top. It's meant doing whatever it takes to protect my country, my people. That's my calling. If that means a certain ruthlessness, so be it. Living with suicide bombers and mullahs who'd like to annihilate us sometimes requires a degree of ruthlessness.
Which is why it's a strange thing for a man like me to trust a Palestinian president. The old fool who once ran the PLO could only be trusted to be a source of constant trouble. Even towards the end of his life, he was still at it. Yousuf Touqan is another matter altogether. He wanted peace. He wanted us all to live as neighbors, in peace and prosperity. A two state solution. He could have made it work.
Now he's dead.
He was gunned down while in England last night. A terrorist group I know of all too well has claimed responsibility. They call themselves the Covenant. For eight years, they've been causing no end of trouble for my agency, for my country. And for people beyond our borders. They strike at Israelis, Palestinians, and Arabs alike. They're like ghosts, hitting us from the shadows and slipping back into the darkness.
I can feel the unrest building up already. Plenty of people in the West Bank will be blaming us for the assassination. There'll be hell to pay... that's certain. I'm sending one of my agents to England to coordinate with the investigation there. I can only hope they find a lead. These bastards have to be stopped. God knows what they have in mind next....
****
I was born in Israel to a life of duty. My father's father came here when our people were marginalized, when we had no country of our own. My mother came after the War. After the Shoah. Her entire family was wiped out in the Holocaust, one small fragment of so many others killed at the whim of the Nazis. She survived only because she was hidden. I've lived all my life with the stories of what happens when we become a target of those who hate us. I've grown up with the sensation of living under siege.
For most of my life, my country has had to deal with tense relations with its neighbors. At one point or another, we've fought them, and fought them well. We've dealt with violence in our own borders, from people who'd like nothing more then to see us wiped off the face of the earth. We've lived with being threatened since we founded the nation. Since long before that.
My faith, whatever it might be, is in my duty to my country. I've risen through the ranks of the Mossad to the top. It's meant doing whatever it takes to protect my country, my people. That's my calling. If that means a certain ruthlessness, so be it. Living with suicide bombers and mullahs who'd like to annihilate us sometimes requires a degree of ruthlessness.
Which is why it's a strange thing for a man like me to trust a Palestinian president. The old fool who once ran the PLO could only be trusted to be a source of constant trouble. Even towards the end of his life, he was still at it. Yousuf Touqan is another matter altogether. He wanted peace. He wanted us all to live as neighbors, in peace and prosperity. A two state solution. He could have made it work.
Now he's dead.
He was gunned down while in England last night. A terrorist group I know of all too well has claimed responsibility. They call themselves the Covenant. For eight years, they've been causing no end of trouble for my agency, for my country. And for people beyond our borders. They strike at Israelis, Palestinians, and Arabs alike. They're like ghosts, hitting us from the shadows and slipping back into the darkness.
I can feel the unrest building up already. Plenty of people in the West Bank will be blaming us for the assassination. There'll be hell to pay... that's certain. I'm sending one of my agents to England to coordinate with the investigation there. I can only hope they find a lead. These bastards have to be stopped. God knows what they have in mind next....
Tuesday, December 28, 2010
The Anarchist
"Some men aren't looking for anything logical, like money. They can't be bought, bullied, reasoned or negotiated with. Some men just want to watch the world burn." -Alfred, The Dark Knight
Very fitting words for today. There's a character who's slowly been building up in my mind as of late, a character who would like nothing more then to watch the world burn. This particular individual can be described as ruthless, sadistic, malevolent, nefarious, relentless, and vile.
No, not him.
Not him either. I'm not referring to a crazy cult member with a big ego.
No! This character's not an idiot!
Okay, slightly smarter then the last one, but like I said... not an idiot.
I said vile and malevolent, not desperate, clingy, and needing attention from paparazzi.
Okay, that's much closer, but not quite right yet....
Will you start taking this seriously?
Not him either!
Ahem!!!
Okay, now that I've got that out of the way.... it's not any of them.
One of the good things about writing in a series is laying the groundwork for future books. I've introduced the terrorist Cain Reilly that way. He'll turn up again in book three. I've also brought in my version of the Iranian President, who like his real life counterpart is a real piece of work, and down the line as I go along will continue to stir up trouble. And I'm planning on introducing a pope as the Very Bad Thing leads to a lot of Very Bad Trouble (trademark pending) in the Middle East. Unlike his real life counterpart, my fictional pope will be progressive and forward thinking. Pope Benny would find that offensive. My Pope, however, will come back again in future works.
The character who's been gradually forming in my mind as of late is an anarchist. I don't have a name, or a codename. I don't even know if this one will be a man or a woman. I think that he or she should be eastern European, perhaps Yugoslavian. It would give me an excuse to explore Croatia, which from what I've seen has an incredible beauty to it.
Anarchy continues to thrive around us. Some days ago, an anarchist group was credited with the bombings in Italy. In its classic meaning, a group that seeks the removal of any government system can be a very nasty wild card in the world that I write in. And that's the character currently in formation. He wants to watch the world burn.
Obviously I can't really fit him into Heaven & Hell, what with not even having a name or a final decision on gender as of yet. The most I can do is make reference to an act committed by the anarchist, even just a line or two. And then I can gradually develop him over time, have him appear from the shadows from time to time in future books, until I can place him into the role of primary antagonist.
One thing's for sure: I won't have to worry about writing him sympathetically.
Very fitting words for today. There's a character who's slowly been building up in my mind as of late, a character who would like nothing more then to watch the world burn. This particular individual can be described as ruthless, sadistic, malevolent, nefarious, relentless, and vile.
No, not him.
Okay, slightly smarter then the last one, but like I said... not an idiot.
I said vile and malevolent, not desperate, clingy, and needing attention from paparazzi.
Okay, that's much closer, but not quite right yet....
Ahem!!!
Okay, now that I've got that out of the way.... it's not any of them.
One of the good things about writing in a series is laying the groundwork for future books. I've introduced the terrorist Cain Reilly that way. He'll turn up again in book three. I've also brought in my version of the Iranian President, who like his real life counterpart is a real piece of work, and down the line as I go along will continue to stir up trouble. And I'm planning on introducing a pope as the Very Bad Thing leads to a lot of Very Bad Trouble (trademark pending) in the Middle East. Unlike his real life counterpart, my fictional pope will be progressive and forward thinking. Pope Benny would find that offensive. My Pope, however, will come back again in future works.
The character who's been gradually forming in my mind as of late is an anarchist. I don't have a name, or a codename. I don't even know if this one will be a man or a woman. I think that he or she should be eastern European, perhaps Yugoslavian. It would give me an excuse to explore Croatia, which from what I've seen has an incredible beauty to it.
Anarchy continues to thrive around us. Some days ago, an anarchist group was credited with the bombings in Italy. In its classic meaning, a group that seeks the removal of any government system can be a very nasty wild card in the world that I write in. And that's the character currently in formation. He wants to watch the world burn.
Obviously I can't really fit him into Heaven & Hell, what with not even having a name or a final decision on gender as of yet. The most I can do is make reference to an act committed by the anarchist, even just a line or two. And then I can gradually develop him over time, have him appear from the shadows from time to time in future books, until I can place him into the role of primary antagonist.
One thing's for sure: I won't have to worry about writing him sympathetically.
Still we get the same old gruel
We don’t care for her or her reviews. Our purpose for posting this is so that all restaurants can have a picture of her and make a decision as to whether or not they would like to serve her. We find that some of her reviews can be unnecessarily cruel and irrational, and that they have caused hardworking people in this industry to lose their jobs.Of course, it’s up to Mr Ellis whether or not he allows Ms Virbila into his restaurant, although it’s possible to argue that his own cruel, irrational behaviour, if replicated by others, might cause hardworking people in the restaurant review industry to lose their jobs. And it’s also interesting and maybe a little cheering that, amidst the clamour of food bloggers and the like, he believes a single dead-tree critic still wields so much power.
But ultimately to pick on one critic for being a bit nasty (“cruel and irrational” rather than “wrong”) is to miss the point. Critics don’t exist to close restaurants or musicals or careers. They should provoke and cajole, encourage and query, nudging others to think about food or drama or words or music in new ways. A healthy critical dialogue – which is just as likely to be kind and rational as anything else – is proof that people care deeply about the subject matter, and ultimately encourages them to consume it. In the long run, if that doesn’t happen, a hell of a lot of people stand to lose their jobs, no matter how hard they work.
Saturday, December 25, 2010
You're talking about the woman I almost love.
#29. Die Hard 2 (1990).
You know, I really remember this being more of a Christmas movie than it is. Aside from the fact that it's snowing and Let It Snow, Let It Snow, Let It Snow, plays over the credits...uh, not so much.
But still a fun action movie. John McClane saves the day again and there's lots of explosions and some good dialogue. Win.
#28. Sagan om Karl-Bertil Jonssons julafton (1975).
This was one we watched every Christmas when I was growing up, and I still love it. It's Swedish, and apparently they watch it over there yearly, too. It's hard to find over here (impossible, actually), so we've been watching the same taped version we've owned since, who knows, 1984 or so...
I recently bought a PAL version from the UK on DVD, since I have an all region player. But it's the wrong narrator! :( I'm sure the narration is perfectly good, but it's just not the same...the original narrator (whose name I must look up) is wonderfully dry and deadpan, unmatched.
Anyway, it's always a cute story and though I am putting it on the list though I haven't watched it yet, I no doubt will today!
#27. The Lemon Drop Kid (1951).
This is one from my childhood. Silver Bells has always been my favorite traditional xmas song, and while I don't believe it was written FOR this film, this was the first film to feature it.
Very cute, great lines, and though I can't say I know Marilyn Maxwell from anything else, I do think she's great in this. Bob Hope is Bob Hope, as always, great stuff.
"I know it and you know, but it would sound pretty peculiar in court..."
#26. Go (1999).
This is one of those borderline Christmas movies, but I think it counts. It always makes me laugh, and that will make almost anything count.
The story is basically about the same night told three times, as experienced by three different groups of people, and they're all very different stories. And I've seen it several times, but it's still hysterical and full of great, quotable lines.
#25. A Christmas Carol (George C. Scott).
I guess I don't really have a lot to say here: we've all seen this story a million times in a million ways and I think this is my favorite version. George C. Scott just does the most perfect Scrooge. 'nuff said.
#24. Mystery Science Theater 3000: Santa Claus (1959).
Hahaha, this is fucking awful. Just look at the picture, for Christ's sake. First of all, there are numerous films with this title, so this is Santa Claus.
Clearly, you would never want to watch this without the aid of Mystery Science Theater 3000. And really, if you are going to go there at all, I would recommend Santa Claus Conquers the Martians over this. Both are gloriously awful, but the other is somehow more charming. I was trying to knock a dent in this list by xmas, and this one was available for instant download. It has been years since I saw it last and wow. It's a gem from Mexico, dubbed for your viewing pleasure, and it's just wrong on so many levels. Win.
You know, I really remember this being more of a Christmas movie than it is. Aside from the fact that it's snowing and Let It Snow, Let It Snow, Let It Snow, plays over the credits...uh, not so much.
But still a fun action movie. John McClane saves the day again and there's lots of explosions and some good dialogue. Win.
#28. Sagan om Karl-Bertil Jonssons julafton (1975).
This was one we watched every Christmas when I was growing up, and I still love it. It's Swedish, and apparently they watch it over there yearly, too. It's hard to find over here (impossible, actually), so we've been watching the same taped version we've owned since, who knows, 1984 or so...
I recently bought a PAL version from the UK on DVD, since I have an all region player. But it's the wrong narrator! :( I'm sure the narration is perfectly good, but it's just not the same...the original narrator (whose name I must look up) is wonderfully dry and deadpan, unmatched.
Anyway, it's always a cute story and though I am putting it on the list though I haven't watched it yet, I no doubt will today!
#27. The Lemon Drop Kid (1951).
This is one from my childhood. Silver Bells has always been my favorite traditional xmas song, and while I don't believe it was written FOR this film, this was the first film to feature it.
Very cute, great lines, and though I can't say I know Marilyn Maxwell from anything else, I do think she's great in this. Bob Hope is Bob Hope, as always, great stuff.
"I know it and you know, but it would sound pretty peculiar in court..."
#26. Go (1999).
This is one of those borderline Christmas movies, but I think it counts. It always makes me laugh, and that will make almost anything count.
The story is basically about the same night told three times, as experienced by three different groups of people, and they're all very different stories. And I've seen it several times, but it's still hysterical and full of great, quotable lines.
#25. A Christmas Carol (George C. Scott).
I guess I don't really have a lot to say here: we've all seen this story a million times in a million ways and I think this is my favorite version. George C. Scott just does the most perfect Scrooge. 'nuff said.
#24. Mystery Science Theater 3000: Santa Claus (1959).
Hahaha, this is fucking awful. Just look at the picture, for Christ's sake. First of all, there are numerous films with this title, so this is Santa Claus.
Clearly, you would never want to watch this without the aid of Mystery Science Theater 3000. And really, if you are going to go there at all, I would recommend Santa Claus Conquers the Martians over this. Both are gloriously awful, but the other is somehow more charming. I was trying to knock a dent in this list by xmas, and this one was available for instant download. It has been years since I saw it last and wow. It's a gem from Mexico, dubbed for your viewing pleasure, and it's just wrong on so many levels. Win.
Friday, December 24, 2010
Thursday, December 23, 2010
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