Yule time in the Castle

Well it's time for the Christmas holidays to begin in earnest. The tree is decorated, the presents wrapped, the cards are on the mantelpiece (if we had one) and air is filled with the smell of spiced wine and roasting goose.

Last night I had a Christmas meal in the castle's Queen Anne room's. The views, looking out over the city (which isn't covered with fog unlike the rest of the country) really are spectacular, and the building are impressive. It's also, what I would call, a proper castle with battlements, granite cliffs, impregnable wall plus it still has a standing garrison.

In Nottingham, visitors always expected some medieaval building to dominate the town but that castle was burnt to the ground a long time ago and the building that replaced it is more akin to a stately home than that image I mentioned, but Edinburgh castle is the real deal.

Talking of all things Nottingham I'm spending the day watching 'Robin of Sherwood'. It really is so much better then the new BBC's Robin in the Hoodie show. 'Robin of Sherwood' is dark, mysterious and quite bloody in places. There is a feeling of magic in the show helped with the introduction of the shaman / Green man character of Herne the Hunter. The characters are interesting and you actually care about them, they feel like a band of desperadoes living on their wits.
Talking about the other show with Lady H we realised we couldn't even remember which of Hood's men was Will Scarlet and the outfit they wear are just ridiculous.

So with several more episodes to go I'll leave you to enjoy the holiday. Happy Christmas!

Ohhs and Ahhs.

Van the Man visited on Thursday, having business in the capital the following day, so spending time in a few bars the night before seemed a good idea at the time. The feelings of pain and suffering and the smiting of many brain cells the next day, led me to rethink this 'good' idea. But it seems I am not alone as the streets are filled with wall to wall vomiting as staff Christmas parties get out of hand and normally nice and decent human being take to wearing flashing antlers and pointed red hats.

Lady Helen is getting more excited by the day and has to be shooed away from the small pile of presents with a thick stick and the threat of removal of her chocolate ration. She insisted the tree went up yesterday so after an exhausting trek around town the tree was de-boxed and yours truly had to make all the expected 'oohs and ahhs' as Lady Helen stood back to admire her handiwork.

Started work on a small piece for a competition this week which I hope to finish over the Xmas week. Assuming it doesn't win anything I'll post it here in the new year.

Website of the week: (courtesy of Otralala)
DIE-CAST Films

Where's Adam?

create your own visited country map
or write about it on the open travel guide




create your own personalized map of the USA
or write about it on the open travel guide




create your personalized map of europe
or write about it on the open travel guide

Just a quick way for me to keep a map of where I've been. Try it and see how much of world is still left as the undiscovered country.

Bearded Ladies and Outlaws

Spent the weekend with PC Benny in the old hunting ground of Snottingham. It was a time to catch up with both friends and family and the news that is circulating within each set (the two are kept apart however, in fear that one might embarrass the other).

On the family side, final grandparent is looking a lot better after numerous operations and procedures completed by the men with stethoscopes. Big Chief Shardlow has returned from France having stocked up with enough wine to see him through to the warmer months. The Mudder is in training for her visit north of the border for Hogmany, while Fay-Fay is planning baby nephews first annum celebration (the afore mentioned nephew has decided he doesn't like men with beards and now screams when approached by either uncle or carnival ladies), while PC Benny is starting to think about his flight south to the land of clotted cream.

On the friend's side, all are seemingly happy in relationships (first time ever). The Grayman is flourishing while selling soft core porn, Kaiser is working for the same people as me (showing that we truly do live in the world of the mega-corporation), big Tim's love of all things Italian has now extended to his hair and facial ornaments and Van the man was conspicuous by his absence.

A good time was had by all, however while waiting for a taxi on a cold concrete street, whipped by the empty take-away trays and surrounded by the t-shirt wearing Snottingham 'massive with their blue legged girlfriends of the loud voice and expletive filled sentences, it reminded me why I'm so glad we moved north. A new series of Robin Hood has not restored any pride in the place.

Read this week:
The Forest in Folklore and Mythology by Alexander Porteous
Howl and other Poems by Allen Ginsberg.

Christmas is coming and all through the house...

Not much to report on this week as I'm trying to save money in time for Christmas. I've already done all my shopping without having to leave my computer. Hopefully everyone will get what I ordered, in the right number, delivered to the right address and in time for the festivities. It's a lot easier than daring the crowds on princes Street who all seem to be out shopping with the express purpose of wandering in front of me when I'm on a mission, stopping dead in doorways or walking five abreast and filling the pavement. The only problem with ordering online is that every company seems to have a different style order form calling for valuable wasted minutes as I work out how to use their web page. Some of the companies make it blatantly easy while others seem to have come up with the most frustrating websites going (has a name similar to Pay-Hel) where I have to order each present individually and go through the whole order process again and again and again. Perhaps they miss me visiting their stores.

Off to Nottingham this weekend to visit the family, deliver said presents and to celebrate PC Brothers birthday.

Read this week:
The League of Extraordinary Gentlemen Vol. 1 by Alan Moore et al.

Adult Movies

There appears to be a growing trend in fantasy in the world of film and television, with producers finally realising that such ideas need not be confined to the images of childhood. Long gone are the shoddy sets and ludicrous outfits that once populated these genre films (a loss to all those who like their warrior women clad in nothing but an unpractical armoured bikini). The sfx. which were advanced in the LOTR trilogy and the healthy profits these films generated has managed to promote the adult fantasy film and allow writers and directors to concentrate on weaving tales that satisfy a grown-up audience without pandering to simplistic 'moral hero' stories.
A case in point is 'Pan's Labyrinth', a tale of childhood, but one very much overshadowed by the barbarity and horror of an adult world. The film is able to discuss war, torture, infanticide, assisted suicide, power, corruption and ideologies left to fester, amongst other things. All of this is set against a classic quest fairytale that is brought to life through prosthetics and careful film making. On television the BBC's Torchwood (primarily sci-fi but one episode contained fairies), regularly touches upon sex both gay and hetero and the manipulation of such adult themes plus it includes an openly bi-sexual man as the main character.
I've always been attracted to and enjoyed fantasy/mythic stories set in the 'real' world (Neverwhere, Constantine etc). By doing so authors have to deal with realities of modern life which makes the magical elements of these stories appear more...well, magical. In my own writings I have (so far) wanted to look at the issues which affect us today, whether these are social or political, but place them within a mythic framework. The written word has always done this with fantasy novels as more often than not they are aimed at a well read audience, but these ideas are (normally) pared back for any filmic interpretation.
With the release next year of Gaiman's 'Stardust' let us hope this theme continues and that the thirst for intelligent yet thrilling fantasy work keeps coming.

Read this week: Scar Night by Alan Campbell.

Venice is a Fake

Canaletto basically made up his paintings. By this I mean he created compositions that were for all intents and purposes - fake.

There is an exhibition of his work in Holyrood and feeling that I needed a little bit of 'KULTUR' I headed that way this weekend. I've never seen any of his work before but he is one of the few artists who upon stumbling across his work I can scratch my beard, nod and mumble 'nice Canaletto'. However, seeing the initial sketches and the finished paintings I noted for the first time how much his work reminded me of particularly well crafted comic book panels. He uses that eyes of an architect to render the buildings in almost perfect detail and fills the urban spaces with people going about their daily basis.

Going back to my first comment, like many comic book artists his views are Venice are in the main fake. He would widen a canal here, ignore a building there, change the perspective of a view. His Venice is a fake Venice - but a convincingly beautiful one - a Gotham of the 16th Century.

Ghost Books

Just in case any of you were worried Lady H returned safe and sound from Italy on Saturday. Everything seems well in that part of the world and the hidey-hole itself is looking grand. It seems her diet during this short stay consisted of mainly wine, but I think this was her way of blending in with the chaperon.

She was able to bring back with her my incomplete set of Shakespeare books. The collection of plays, published in 1896 in a diminutive size, backed in red cloth with gold lettering was a 21st birthday present from the parental units. Though the books are frayed and tired they are signed in the front as being owned by M. B. Claydon.

I often wonder who this person was. Was he or she young or old, an avid fan of Shakespeare or plays in general, a lover of books and why did they not own the full set (or did they and lost some volumes through mishap? If so how and where did they get lost?)? Would they mind that I had now taken ownership of them (and who will look after them once I have gone)?
I have become the unwitting guardian of one small part of another's life and through them I acknowledge the ghostly presence of a previous owner. I wonder if I should add my name and start a list for future generations?

This blog is now also hosted on the Barganews website. Does that mean I'm now an international writer?

Website of the week: http://howtoprankatelemarketer.ytmnd.com/

Editing time.

I'm on my own. Lady H has gone to the hidey-hole in Barga leaving me alone until the weekend.

I'm utilising the time to get on with a bit of writing or more to the point, a bit of editing. I have a script for a TV show ready to be sent off into that vast dark hole that so much of this work vanishes into. Personally I think the premise for this series is wide enough (yet contained within its own universe) to run through many concepts, ideas and characters. As always its getting the idea in front of the right face in the right format...and that's the hard bit.

Anyone out there intrested in an urban fantasy series set in a contempory city - get in touch.

Those Magic Bonzo Moments

Lady H and I went to Usher Hall last night to watch the recently resurrected Bonzo Dog Doo-Dah Band (most of the original members, though some on stage had a certain corpse like quality). My only real knowledge of the band comes from the biography of Stephen Fry. Unsurprisingly, the name caught my attention and when I heard they had reformed I booked tickets.

The crowd at last night's gig was a strange mixture of aging hippies and the now respectable who took turns to shake their geriatric loins and bounce their stiffening knees in time to the rock as they attempted to recapture the sounds of their lost youth.

I've tried this myself (not the dancing like an old person part - not yet), the want to recreate some past event that has stayed in the mind as one of those perfect magic moments. I've been to see bands I remember listening to on a small tinny cassette player, I've been back to childhood holiday haunts and I've attempted to recreate past drunken escapades that seemed hilarious in time and mind. And the thing is - you can't and shouldn't attempt it.

The door to that once magic moment is closed once the event took place; it has dissipated like vapour into the air. The rain will never be as perfect washing down an empty street as that night, and all kisses after that first lingering electric kiss will pale in comparison.

The beauty of those moments is that they are fleeting will-o'-the-wisp magic events that grab you when you least expect them to. For the aging fans last night 'The Bonzo's will never compare to that moment they put a shiny new LP on their bedroom record players.

Read this week:
The Ladies of Grace Adieu and other stories by Susanna Clarke

Web moment of the week:
Helsinki Complaints Choir

Jak sie masz America?

Lady Helen took me out last night to watch 'Borat's Cultural learnings of America for make benefit glorious nation of Kazakhstan' and I cannot help but wonder whether Sacha Baron Cohen can claim part of the Democrats success in the US midterm elections? With a film release date of 3rd November and Borat's ability to prick at the bubble of the pompous right, could he not have helped to sway those voters who were still wavering on which way to place their bets?

I don't believe the change in direction for both Congress and the House of Representatives will make much difference to US policy on Iraq or the rest of the world and America's own deep rooted problems but at least there is the silver lining that Rumsfeld has at long last been 'retired' (Bush's very own retard).

Let us then, give thanks to those great people of Kazakhstan, for they have managed to do what the Iraqi and Afghan's could only dream about.

"Jak sie masz? My name Borat. I like you. I like sex. Is nice! "

Theatre visits and Dictators

We decided last year to try and see more live theatre. Going to the cinema is easy (and something we do at least once a week) but theatre has always been considered more of a special occasion activity.

For many it’s the price that's off putting. Fifteen pounds plus to be entertained for two hours seems expensive compared with average six quid for a cinema ticket. It also appears to have retained something of its 'elitist' tag (particularly opera within the UK - in Italy it's an entertainment form for the masses), which is a shame because there is something wonderful about sitting in the dark watching actors bring a tale to life, the energy they expand, the emotion projected out towards the audience.

As a school student in Nottingham I was lucky enough to have an English teacher who would regularly obtain theatre tickets for one pound. Through him I was able to see Russian subtitled productions, selections from Shakespeare, and modern interpretations of classics. Those stories and experiences have lasted and explains why my first foray into writing was a play.

While in New Zealand the original cast tour of Alan Bennett's 'The History Boys' came to the Wellington Festival (and if you haven't seen it, go at once) plus we got to see a production of 'Play it again, Sam". Today we saw Rebecca and it was…okay. Just okay, nothing special at all. Nigel Havers was good but the rest of cast appeared to sleep walk through the production. It didn't seem to have the same gothic sinister chill of Hitchcock's film (I can't remember the book. It's been more than ten years since I've read it) and Mrs. Danvers was just not malevolent enough.

Will it put me off spending that amount of money again? No. Like any art form a great many productions are flawed. Few if any can be considered perfect but that doesn't mean they are any less worthy.

Saddam Hussein has this morning been sentenced to death by hanging. This has been supported by both John Reid and Margaret Beckett, neither of which has questioned the actual death verdict. Coming from a country that neither has nor supports death as a punishment do you think this was the correct sentence to bring against him or is this just going to cause his martyrdom within the Sunni community?

Read this week:
Neverwhere by Neil Gaiman.

Website of the week:
www.cobwebforest.com

Ramblings, incoherent rants, rages, burbling and just a little gutter speak.

I promise that all of the above will form part of this blog at some time in the near future. I plan to use the blog to discuss things on my mind, in the news or just to blather on about nothing in particular. If you want to join me on this adventure to nowhere then feel free to drop me a line.

I've never been very good at keeping a journal, mainly because I never seemed to have anything of note to write, but having just spent the last two years doing some thoroughly interesting things (and never having the time to get them down on paper) I now plan to make amends. This desire might last two weeks or two years - who knows?

It's also a good way for me to try and keep in touch with all those friends from around the world Lady Helen and I have had the good fortune to meet (you know who you are).

So pull up a chair, sit back and relax and feel free to interact with fact or chat.