No relation to the Torchwood episode of the same name. I just couldn't be bothered to think up a clever title for another anthology post.
1) A painting that I somehow ended up not posting when I first did it:
Yes, that serial number is in hexadecimal. Because I can. Interpret that fact (and the rest of the painting, for that matter) as you will.
On a related note, I've started painting the kingfisher, but it's not really worth uploading another photo yet as I've only done the sky so far.
2) CGI robots! Another one. I've had this idea at the back of my mind for a while, for a computer-animated short film about dolly mixtures, called Golden Cube. A few months ago I finally managed to work out what was going on with the story (with some help from a friend at church), and then started experimenting with production design. I re-used a load of elements from a previous CGI project which had fallen through, including the robot which was meant to be the main character, but the robot design just never looked right. So over the weekend I decided to throw it out and start again from scratch, taking more than a little inspiration from Dyson vacuum cleaners in terms of the elemental geometry, the semi-exposed gubbins and the bold colour schemes. Here's the latest render of the new droid (still WIP, I might add - the eye needs a lot more work, and the arm is mostly missing), along with a piccy of its spiritual predecessor, courtesy of the internets:
There's probably a bit of WALL-E in there somewhere as well, but that's beside the point.
3) Arbitrary Stopframe still hasn't officially ended. I've sort of got a plan for Episode 8, and I've had Odom the Grud sitting on my desk for about a month, in intermittent peril from marauding hamsters (I'm not sure if hamsters like the taste of plasticene, but I haven't left Odom within range for long enough to find out), waiting to film, but there are one or two little creative obstacles to be overcome first. My apologies for the ridiculously long wait.
4) Cylinder and Miserable has its fifth anniversary a week on Thursday. It's been half a decade (as close as makes no difference) since I started writing it. And for once, it feels like it. To be honest, it doesn't really feel like it was only yesterday, or any of that stuff.
I feel all old and decrepit now, saying things like that...
- The Colclough
Tuesday, 31 May 2011
Random Shoes
Labels:
Animation,
Arbitrary Stopframe,
CGI,
Cylinder and Miserable,
Painting,
Robot
Friday, 20 May 2011
Fresh Air and Canvases
I mentioned back at the end of March that I had decided to alter my morning routine to include a walk.
Well, yesterday, as I was pootling along the bank of the River Blackwater on my self-imposed programme of perambulations, I was faced with a fork in the path. The main path went off to the left, while the smaller one followed a meandering bit of the river off to the right. More Direct vs. More Interesting?
I chose More Interesting, and shuffled off down the smaller path.
Turns out that was a good choice.
About half-way along More Interesting, there was a splosh noise, followed by a vivid-blue streak leaving the water and heading for a nearby branch. The kingfisher was even decent enough to spend a couple of minutes just sitting on the branch, right where I could see him, before he headed off again.
So I decided to paint it. Not a photographically-accurate, taxonomist-pleasing portrait, mind you, more an impressionist rendition of the moment of the dive. I've had a 32" x 12" canvas under my bed since Christmas, when I was given it along with my brushes, acrylics and canvas 'doodle pad', and I've kept wondering which way up it should go, and what on earth to put on it - after all, 2.66666 : 1 is a pretty extreme aspect ratio. But now I have a plan. Rather than bothering to explain the plan in words, I'll just show you a photo of the canvas with the planned image sketched onto it:
I might even post a photo of the finished product eventually, if you're lucky B]
- The Colclough
Well, yesterday, as I was pootling along the bank of the River Blackwater on my self-imposed programme of perambulations, I was faced with a fork in the path. The main path went off to the left, while the smaller one followed a meandering bit of the river off to the right. More Direct vs. More Interesting?
I chose More Interesting, and shuffled off down the smaller path.
Turns out that was a good choice.
About half-way along More Interesting, there was a splosh noise, followed by a vivid-blue streak leaving the water and heading for a nearby branch. The kingfisher was even decent enough to spend a couple of minutes just sitting on the branch, right where I could see him, before he headed off again.
So I decided to paint it. Not a photographically-accurate, taxonomist-pleasing portrait, mind you, more an impressionist rendition of the moment of the dive. I've had a 32" x 12" canvas under my bed since Christmas, when I was given it along with my brushes, acrylics and canvas 'doodle pad', and I've kept wondering which way up it should go, and what on earth to put on it - after all, 2.66666 : 1 is a pretty extreme aspect ratio. But now I have a plan. Rather than bothering to explain the plan in words, I'll just show you a photo of the canvas with the planned image sketched onto it:
Untitled Kingfisher Painting (work in progress)
I might even post a photo of the finished product eventually, if you're lucky B]
- The Colclough
Wednesday, 18 May 2011
Which Fifty was Which?
Okay... it's been forever (translation: well over 3 months) since I made my 50th post on here, featuring "Fifty Facts and Fifty Fibs". Exactly one person offered me their answers/guesses, and it doesn't look like anyone else is going to bother now, so I've decided to mark my 60th post on A White Horizon by supplying you all with the answers, however disinterested you may be in them. Here goes...
So there you go. The truth is out.
Were 100 questions just too much? Would I get more answers if I made it shorter next time? Just wondering.
- The Colclough
- I was born in Southampton. FALSE - Portsmouth, actually
- If you follow my dad’s-dad’s-dad etc line back far enough, one of them was a second cousin of Henry VIII. FALSE
- I hold Australian dual citizenship. TRUE
- I am the oldest of 5 siblings. FALSE - there are only 4 of us
- I have a high-functioning autistic spectrum condition. TRUE - we're talking Asperger's Syndrome or something similar
- I’ve always been single. TRUE - and no wonder, what with me being so geeky and awkward and number-5-being-true-ish and all those other offputting traits and habits I've got
- I got dumped once, but it was a bit irrelevant because I didn’t know I was in a position to be dumped from. TRUE
- My eyes are green. FALSE - they're brown
- I need glasses because I’m long-sighted. FALSE - I'm short-sighted
- I am a morning person. VERY FALSE
- Breakfast, for me, is usually some sort of cereal with milk on it. FALSE – I always keep the cereal and milk strictly separated, and sometimes I even have toast instead
- I’ve got a random patch of hair on my lower back, and I’ve never been able to work out whether it’s meant to be there. TRUE
- I’ve never had a filling, blood transfusion, broken bone, braces, piercing, tattoo, hangover, or basically anything. TRUE - unless I had something when I was 2 or younger and nobody's ever told me about it
- I hate having anything tight around my neck. TRUE - ties are a nightmare, and I will only wear them for weddings and funerals or under torture
- I am allergic to lavender. FALSE
- I have an irrational phobia of spreadsheet software. FALSE - I love spreadsheets
- My favourite colour is white. TRUE
- I have three left feet. FALSE - but I do have two of them, as I’m sure Hannah can confirm after a certain incident in Kent back in January…
- My first home was in Havant, near Portsmouth, but we moved to Bristol when I was 3 weeks old. TRUE
- After leaving Havant, we lived in Bristol for six years. FALSE - only five years
- One of my earliest memories is of getting scared to death by the unexplained presence of a small, stuffed E.T. toy in my bedroom when I was about 2 or 3. TRUE
- One of my clearest memories from my early childhood in Bristol involves our old Peugeot 104 breaking down in the carpark exit at Asda. FALSE - the Peugeot was real, and it did break down a lot, but the Asda incident is fictional
- During my three years in primary school, I earned notoriety for accidentally flooding the men’s room. FALSE
- One of my oddest memories from primary school was when my class was taken to the staff room and fed turnips. I can’t remember the reasons, just the vegetables. TRUE
- I used to be an avid roller-skater. FALSE
- I set fire to my hair once, I think when I was 7 or thereabouts. FALSE
- I’ve lived in a hotel room for about three weeks. TRUE
- I once had an ice-cream birthday cake which turned out to be sesame-seed flavour. TRUE
- I’ve lived in Hong Kong for two years. TRUE
- While living in Hong Kong, one of my most prized possessions was a two- or three-inch-long snail shell which I found in a gutter. TRUE
- Throughout our stay in Hong Kong, we had to get a non-air-conditioned bus to and from church, because the bus operator never bothered putting any on that particular route, the lousy so-and-sos. FALSE - they did start putting air-con buses on Route 85 about half-way through our stay
- I was forced to learn to touch-type when I was about 8 or 9. I resented it a bit at the time, but I now find it extremely useful, so I’m retroactively grateful. TRUE
- In my previous house, I had a playroom in the garage conversion. FALSE - it was in the loft
- I once helped to fell a giant conifer which had been irreparably damaged by a storm. FALSE - the tree was real, and got felled about 10 or 11 years ago, but I wasn’t involved
- I have been to France, Germany and Poland in the last ten years. FALSE - I've never been to continental Europe
- I studied the piano (not sure whose idea it was) for a few years, but gave up after passing ABRSM Grade 4. TRUE
- I was once in the same room as one of the guys who designed the basic audio-handling layer for the MPEG-2 video coding algorithms. I didn’t get to speak to him, as I don’t know any Japanese, and the translators were busy. FALSE
- I’ve been involved in three road accidents since passing my driving test in September 2007. TRUE
- I only have a driving license for automatic cars. FALSE - I currently drive an automatic (it’s Mum’s car, and she had a bad relationship with its predecessor’s clutch pedal), but I’ve got a full manual license
- I’ve had a week’s work experience with the BBC. FALSE - it was with Sky
- I hold a Bachelor of Arts degree in Media Production. FALSE - it's a Bachelor of Science degree
- The most expensive film I’ve been involved with was a final-year college project which cost just under £500. FALSE - I was involved in two or three films that cost well over £500 each
- I spent all three of my final-year Media Production theory exams rambling on about Avatar, after having seen the film just once, and ended up getting a First in the module even though I hated it (the module, not the film). TRUE
- I’ve been to five consecutive Root Hill camps, and have no intention of stopping if I can help it. TRUE
- If I had to pick a favourite bit of the Bible, it’d probably be the last two chapters of Revelation. TRUE
- The Screwtape Letters is one of my favourite pieces of literature ever. TRUE
- I own four Rubik’s Cubes of different sizes, and can solve any of them within 10 minutes. FALSE - I don't have a single Rubik's Cube, or the faintest idea how to solve one
- And I know the solution to a 2x4 Rubik’s Magic too. TRUE
- I have met Ratatouille writer/director Brad Bird. FALSE - I wish
- My favourite animated film is Kung Fu Panda. FALSE - I'm not sure what my favourite is, but Ratatouille and WALL-E are strong contenders... and I've never seen Kung Fu Panda
- Shrek 2 is the only animated film which I’ve seen at the cinema more than once. TRUE
- I have seen some episodes of The Simpsons, but never seen any Futurama. TRUE
- I have seen all 74 episodes of Doctor Who aired since the show restarted in 2005 (i.e. Rose onwards) at least once each, and several of them twice or more. TRUE at the time of writing - they've aired 78 episodes now, and I've seen 77 of them, but I haven't seen The Doctor's Wife yet
- Continuing the point about Doctor Who: I can even remember who wrote each one. sad, perhaps, but TRUE - and in many cases I can remember the director and/or producer as well
- The Lord of the Rings is the only multi-film series for which I’ve seen every instalment on the big screen. FALSE - I've also seen all 3 Narnia films at the cinema
- I have all six Star Wars films on DVD. TRUE
- I own exactly three films on Blu-ray: Inception, Up and How to Train Your Dragon. FALSE - at the time of writing I didn't own any films on Blu-ray, and as of now, I've got one (Avatar 3-disc collector's edition); haven't seen Inception
- The composer responsible for the greatest number of CDs in my collection is Howard Shore. TRUE at the time of writing - I have 5 CDs of Shore's film soundtracks, but since my birthday in February I now also have 5 CDs each by Murray Gold (all of them Doctor Who scores) and by Karl Jenkins
- Continuing the point about CDs: the second is Lady Gaga. EXTREMELY FALSE - if I had a Lady Gaga CD, I would see it as my moral duty to incinerate the thing and help purge the world of the ghastly mess that is pop music
- I am a fan of 3-D film technology, and one of my ambitions is to obtain a 3-D camera. FALSE - 3-D cinema does nothing for me whatsoever, and I'd prefer a good 2-D camera any day
- I once made my own pair of 3-D glasses and used them to watch a DVD. TRUE
- I went to the UK premiere of TRON: Legacy. FALSE
- I have never used a computer with a Linux-based operating system. FALSE - I briefly tried out a Ubuntu live CD on our usually-Windows-XP laptop... and I liked it
- When I was younger, I used to like building towns out of wooden blocks, cardboard boxes and Lego, and I’ve got photographic evidence to prove it. TRUE - it was called LittleTown, and in its final incarnation it was a bit of a misnomer
- I used to have a model railway in the garage, but I gave up on it in the end because the board warped, the tracks kept getting stupidly dirty and the trains never ran very well. TRUE
- Both of my current computers are iMacs. FALSE - I dislike Apple in general and hate iMacs in particular
- I did some C++ programming once, but I’ve forgotten nearly all of it now. TRUE
- I have dabbled in computer games programming in Visual Basic. My biggest project was a Breakout clone. TRUE
- I am proficient at coding web pages in PHP. FALSE - I know HTML and CSS, but not PHP
- The bus I used to get to sixth form was so unreliable that I wrote a poem about its failings. TRUE
- I have produced a series of small sculptural works from a broken Shloer bottle. TRUE - the glass got smashed into little granules, placed in channels in a pre-fired bit of clay, re-fired and melted down
- I have built a 5 x 7 ft mosaic, using over 400 custom-designed and hand-crafted tiles. improbable, maybe, but TRUE
- I sometimes like devising writing systems for the languages spoken in my fictional worlds, and in more recent years I’ve made a point of never giving them 26 letters. Ossirow has 23, Dyngarria Eribit has 30 (well, sort of 29 and a half), and Grud Ballum has 24, 27, 38 or 41 depending how you interpret the system. TRUE
- I have written nearly 2000 comic strip episodes, and the total is still climbing. TRUE at the time of writing - the total has now passed 2000
- I can draw geometric stuff, and cartoon people, but I tend to fail epically if I ever try to draw a realistic picture of a human. TRUE
- I’ve been known to draw something, and have absolutely no idea what it’s meant to be. TRUE
- I have owned three camcorders. FALSE - there've been about five in the family, but only the most recent one is actually my personal property
- One of my life ambitions is to make a big-budget film adaptation of The Pilgrim’s Progress. TRUE
- I have a vague, half-baked contingency plan in case I ever get invited to write for Primeval. FALSE
- I have a vague, half-baked contingency plan in case I ever get invited to write for Doctor Who. TRUE - but be ye warned: 'half-baked' is the operative phrase here
- My bedroom walls are yellow. I chose the colour. TRUE
- I love Marmite. FALSE - Marmite is not edible. Point blank. People who eat it are ignoring basic physics.
- I once took six months to eat a Bounty bar. TRUE - although I should point out that I spent most of the six months doing other stuff, with a bit of the Bounty bar at each end
- I dislike Creme Eggs as I find them too sweet. FALSE - there's no such thing as 'too sweet', IMHO... well, not in terms of confectionery anyway
- Most of my favourite foods are French. FALSE - they're mostly English (cooked breakfast, Staffordshire cheese and bacon oatcakes, etc) or Italian (pasta and pizza)
- Most of my socks are green or brown. FALSE - they're various shades of navy, grey or black
- I dislike centaurs – not for any philosophical reason, just because their physiology is so badly thought out. TRUE
- I have a basic first aid qualification. FALSE
- I have eaten kangaroo. TRUE - just a tiny little bit, in the revolving restaurant at the top of the Sydney Tower, when I was 9
- I go swimming two mornings per week. FALSE - I don't even like swimming
- I like watching jellyfish. FALSE - I find jellyfish creepy and disgusting - I think it's because of the see-through-ness and the pulsating-ness
- Guinea-pigs freak me out. FALSE - I don't like them much, but they don't freak me out or anything like that
- My favourite town in the world is Exeter. FALSE - it's a nice enough place, from what I've seen of it, but I don't have any special attachment to it
- I’ve got an old diary (started when I was 7 going on 8), whose cover features some remarkably well-preserved petals from my back-garden sunflower crop of 1995. TRUE
- One of my friends is an Oscar-winning film composer. FALSE - at least for the time being, but I wouldn't be too surprised if that changes a few years down the line
- I once got a 50p coin from Gibraltar in my change. I’ve kept it ever since. FALSE - it was a £1 coin
- I have an antique fibre-optic lamp, on indefinite loan from my Grandad. TRUE
- I usually vote Labour. FALSE - I've voted Tory, Lib Dem, UKIP and No in various different elections, but I always make a point of not voting Labour, after the hideous mess they made during the parliaments of 1997-2010
- I firmly believe that you are never too old for Lego. TRUE
- This is my fiftieth blog post. FALSE - it was my 50th post on A White Horizon, but there were 20-something posts on my previous blog at the now-defunct Tailcast
So there you go. The truth is out.
Were 100 questions just too much? Would I get more answers if I made it shorter next time? Just wondering.
- The Colclough
Thursday, 28 April 2011
Night of the Last Shower
Oh dear, nearly a month since my last post. Don't know what happened there. Well, I sort of do: guests staying, and a comprehensive bathroom refit. And a relative lack of inspiration. Among other things. There might be another blog challenge thing versus Hannah in the offing, but that idea's still embryonic.
Some updates:
Our very small bathroom currently has two tubs in it, one on each side, with just enough space to squeeze the old toilet in between. The plan for tomorrow, while the rest of the country is glued to their TVs watching the Royal Wedding, is to take out the old bath and its associated gubbins, and plumb in the new one. All the tiles above the old bath will need taking off the wall, and I'm rather looking forward to doing that. I like the demolition bits.
It was a bit weird standing in the same tub that I've been using for over 11 years, and knowing that after all those hundreds of showers in there, this was the very last, and that within 24 hours the whole setup would have ceased to exist. Slightly bittersweet.
Still, there's a lovely new shower waiting to go just a few feet away...
- The Colclough
Some updates:
- I do plan on resuming Arbitrary Stopframe sometime - just not sure when.
- I've finished the second draft of Megastropulodon Episode 1, Day of the Goldfish.
- I've finished second drafts for the first three episodes of Frozen Bones.
- I've just had my last shower in the old tub. I won't show you a picture - for one thing, I'm not allowed to take the camera in the shower; for another, you really don't want to see that.
Our very small bathroom currently has two tubs in it, one on each side, with just enough space to squeeze the old toilet in between. The plan for tomorrow, while the rest of the country is glued to their TVs watching the Royal Wedding, is to take out the old bath and its associated gubbins, and plumb in the new one. All the tiles above the old bath will need taking off the wall, and I'm rather looking forward to doing that. I like the demolition bits.
It was a bit weird standing in the same tub that I've been using for over 11 years, and knowing that after all those hundreds of showers in there, this was the very last, and that within 24 hours the whole setup would have ceased to exist. Slightly bittersweet.
Still, there's a lovely new shower waiting to go just a few feet away...
- The Colclough
Labels:
Arbitrary Stopframe,
Bathroom,
Beginning,
Ending,
Megastropulodon
Tuesday, 29 March 2011
Living in Analogue
So... another anthology blog thing.
1) Arbitrary Stopframe - I scraped my self-imposed deadline pretty darn close on Saturday, but did manage (just about) to get Episode 7 uploaded before going to bed. My supply of desktop objects and episode ideas is starting to run a bit dry, hence the fact that Tim guest-wrote this instalment, and I'm not too sure how much longer this thing's going to last. But I don't plan on making #7 the last episode. Not yet...
Anybody else got ideas for future episodes? I can't promise that all suggestions made will be automatically accepted, but they will at least be duly analysed for animatability.
2) Painting. Took my paints outside on Sunday afternoon and ran off this little sketch alla prima (apparently that's Italian, and basically means doing the whole painting in one go, without waiting for one bit to dry before applying the next). It's a strange one in that it looks absolutely rubbish from some angles - especially upside-down and from a few yards' distance, but I quite like it so long as you look at it the right way up and at fairly close range.
3) Routines. It's been bothering me of late how much of my life has been tied up in electronically-mediated activities, be they work or leisure. So I decided last week to do something about it: I rearranged my morning routine from something like this:
4) Alien President. I finished another batch of episodes yesterday (numbers 29, 31, 32 and 33 in terms of their positions in the story, but they bring the total to 37 as I've illustrated some episodes out of narrative order for technical reasons). Number 29 in particular was a real pain to draw and colour - you'll probably see why when I publish it in a few weeks - but I was happy with the final result, which is the main thing. Only 8 more left to illustrate now...
5) The fitful progress of Megastropulodon: a week or two ago, I managed to plug the last major hole in my character profiles, and started work on the second drafts of Episodes 1, 5 and 6, and for a few days it really felt like progress was being made. But then I sort of dried up again. I sometimes (read: often) doubt that I could actually make a living from creative expression, what with the way my ideas come in fits and starts, with productive patches separated by significantly longer dry ones.
6) Lack of blogging. This is the first post on A White Horizon in 10 days. Most of my recent posts have been triggered by having an episode of Arbitrary Stopframe to embed. Is the lack of blogs indicative of a lack of life? I wonder sometimes. It might seem a bit ironic to make this connection, but: see point 3 above...
7) Firefox 4! Mozilla have finally released the new, shinier version of my web browser of choice. It's supposed to be several times faster than its predecessor. Well, sometimes it is (smoother scrolling is noticeable), but it still takes a long time to load. Version 4 has most of the same old good points (stability, for example), and several of the same old flaws, including the fact that whenever I open a new tab it comes up blank instead of going to my homepage. The new interface is much prettier though, and the speed has improved a bit, so I'm generally happy with it.
8)
- The Colclough
1) Arbitrary Stopframe - I scraped my self-imposed deadline pretty darn close on Saturday, but did manage (just about) to get Episode 7 uploaded before going to bed. My supply of desktop objects and episode ideas is starting to run a bit dry, hence the fact that Tim guest-wrote this instalment, and I'm not too sure how much longer this thing's going to last. But I don't plan on making #7 the last episode. Not yet...
Anybody else got ideas for future episodes? I can't promise that all suggestions made will be automatically accepted, but they will at least be duly analysed for animatability.
2) Painting. Took my paints outside on Sunday afternoon and ran off this little sketch alla prima (apparently that's Italian, and basically means doing the whole painting in one go, without waiting for one bit to dry before applying the next). It's a strange one in that it looks absolutely rubbish from some angles - especially upside-down and from a few yards' distance, but I quite like it so long as you look at it the right way up and at fairly close range.
#009: Impressionist Glade
3) Routines. It's been bothering me of late how much of my life has been tied up in electronically-mediated activities, be they work or leisure. So I decided last week to do something about it: I rearranged my morning routine from something like this:
- wake up
- find and apply socks
- read Bible while still in bed
- start computer
- find breakfast
- return to computer
- update webcomics
- eat breakfast while watching TV / DVD / YouTube
- get dressed
- ...and onwards
- wake up
- socks
- find breakfast and armchair
- eat breakfast while reading Bible
- get dressed
- walk (yes, really!)
- and only then fire up the electronics, update the webcomics, and resume business proper
4) Alien President. I finished another batch of episodes yesterday (numbers 29, 31, 32 and 33 in terms of their positions in the story, but they bring the total to 37 as I've illustrated some episodes out of narrative order for technical reasons). Number 29 in particular was a real pain to draw and colour - you'll probably see why when I publish it in a few weeks - but I was happy with the final result, which is the main thing. Only 8 more left to illustrate now...
5) The fitful progress of Megastropulodon: a week or two ago, I managed to plug the last major hole in my character profiles, and started work on the second drafts of Episodes 1, 5 and 6, and for a few days it really felt like progress was being made. But then I sort of dried up again. I sometimes (read: often) doubt that I could actually make a living from creative expression, what with the way my ideas come in fits and starts, with productive patches separated by significantly longer dry ones.
6) Lack of blogging. This is the first post on A White Horizon in 10 days. Most of my recent posts have been triggered by having an episode of Arbitrary Stopframe to embed. Is the lack of blogs indicative of a lack of life? I wonder sometimes. It might seem a bit ironic to make this connection, but: see point 3 above...
7) Firefox 4! Mozilla have finally released the new, shinier version of my web browser of choice. It's supposed to be several times faster than its predecessor. Well, sometimes it is (smoother scrolling is noticeable), but it still takes a long time to load. Version 4 has most of the same old good points (stability, for example), and several of the same old flaws, including the fact that whenever I open a new tab it comes up blank instead of going to my homepage. The new interface is much prettier though, and the speed has improved a bit, so I'm generally happy with it.
8)
- The Colclough
Labels:
Alien President,
Animation,
Arbitrary Stopframe,
Artwork,
Firefox,
Megastropulodon,
Painting,
Video Embedded,
Walking,
YouTube
Saturday, 19 March 2011
Another Lack of Horror Stories
Once again, Arbitrary Stopframe has slunk into existence without any protest or complications. I have no horror stories to inflict on you. I have only the finished product, hot off the press:
One thing worth noting is that I took Sam's point about not having used enough sound FX in Episode 5. There are a lot more sound FX in number 6.
On the topic of "stuff I finished making recently", here's another painting:
Yes, the 'I' signals the intent to produce a 'II', and maybe even a 'III' and beyond...
*****
I've just realised: I spoke too soon. There may not be a horror story in this blog post, but the post itself is arguably part of one: this is my 57th post on A White Horizon. That darn number again!
- The Colclough
One thing worth noting is that I took Sam's point about not having used enough sound FX in Episode 5. There are a lot more sound FX in number 6.
On the topic of "stuff I finished making recently", here's another painting:
#008: Stained Glass I
Yes, the 'I' signals the intent to produce a 'II', and maybe even a 'III' and beyond...
*****
I've just realised: I spoke too soon. There may not be a horror story in this blog post, but the post itself is arguably part of one: this is my 57th post on A White Horizon. That darn number again!
- The Colclough
Labels:
57,
Animation,
Arbitrary Stopframe,
Artwork,
Painting,
Video Embedded,
YouTube
Wednesday, 16 March 2011
It's for Burning!
I have realised in the last 48 hours that the existence of Lynx deodorant is not, as I had previously thought, just a hideous blot on the face of the universe and a complete and utter waste of time.
Don't get me wrong, I'm not saying I like the brand now. I still despise it. The products stink (imho, anyway), and the adverts stink even worse - a concise translation of any Lynx ad from recent years would read: "use our products, and any female who comes within smelling range will instantly turn into a brainless moron whose only aim in life is to get in your bed" - a message which I find crass, moronic, and offensive, not to mention probably untrue. I don't want my female friends and acquaintances to turn into brainless morons, thank you very much.
However, I recently found out via my younger brother that there is actually a use for this hitherto-thought-to-be-worthless product: when combined with a tealight and some Lego, it burns beautifully. I was informed on Monday night just before he went to bed: "Guess what? I've built a flamethrower!"
...as one does, of course. I mean, he's fond of Lego projectile gadgetry, but a flamethrower? Well, if you say so...
I got a demonstration of the device in the back garden yesterday, and tonight he asked if I could video him using the flamethrower. Which I did. It's a very simple concept, really: aim the can over the top of a candle, and squeeze the nozzle. Helps to have a Lego frame to hold everything in place, including a built-in firing rod so you can operate the aerosol while your hand remains a relatively safe few inches away. Deodorant sprays out over the flame, catches fire on the way past, and you get a lovely fireball.
"Cool" isn't really the right adjective right now, for reasons I'm sure you can work out... but I thought it was quite impressive.
So that, it turns out, is what Lynx is for. Not for destroying women's brains, and certainly not for shoving up your armpits, but for incinerating. As someone once said to me while poking the remains of a fifteen-foot-high bonfire: "Pyro is the second-best mania in the world, after Megalo."
- The Colclough
Don't get me wrong, I'm not saying I like the brand now. I still despise it. The products stink (imho, anyway), and the adverts stink even worse - a concise translation of any Lynx ad from recent years would read: "use our products, and any female who comes within smelling range will instantly turn into a brainless moron whose only aim in life is to get in your bed" - a message which I find crass, moronic, and offensive, not to mention probably untrue. I don't want my female friends and acquaintances to turn into brainless morons, thank you very much.
However, I recently found out via my younger brother that there is actually a use for this hitherto-thought-to-be-worthless product: when combined with a tealight and some Lego, it burns beautifully. I was informed on Monday night just before he went to bed: "Guess what? I've built a flamethrower!"
...as one does, of course. I mean, he's fond of Lego projectile gadgetry, but a flamethrower? Well, if you say so...
I got a demonstration of the device in the back garden yesterday, and tonight he asked if I could video him using the flamethrower. Which I did. It's a very simple concept, really: aim the can over the top of a candle, and squeeze the nozzle. Helps to have a Lego frame to hold everything in place, including a built-in firing rod so you can operate the aerosol while your hand remains a relatively safe few inches away. Deodorant sprays out over the flame, catches fire on the way past, and you get a lovely fireball.
"Cool" isn't really the right adjective right now, for reasons I'm sure you can work out... but I thought it was quite impressive.
So that, it turns out, is what Lynx is for. Not for destroying women's brains, and certainly not for shoving up your armpits, but for incinerating. As someone once said to me while poking the remains of a fifteen-foot-high bonfire: "Pyro is the second-best mania in the world, after Megalo."
"BWAHAHAHAHAAAAAHH!!!"
- The Colclough
Saturday, 12 March 2011
The One I Didn't See Coming
I had the basic idea for Arbitrary Stopframe 4 some weeks before I got round to animating it. Not so number 5, which only popped into my head a day or two ago.
I don't have any tales of woe from the soundstage to regale you all with either. So here, without further ado or embellishment, is the latest of my weekly stopmotion exercises:
To try and compensate for the fact that this post is so short, I've decided to open a little opinion poll: which Arbitrary Stopframe episode so far is your favourite?
Also: I will try and remember to post the answers to Fifty Facts and Fifty Fibs soon... I've given up waiting for anyone to post their answers...
- The Colclough
I don't have any tales of woe from the soundstage to regale you all with either. So here, without further ado or embellishment, is the latest of my weekly stopmotion exercises:
To try and compensate for the fact that this post is so short, I've decided to open a little opinion poll: which Arbitrary Stopframe episode so far is your favourite?
Also: I will try and remember to post the answers to Fifty Facts and Fifty Fibs soon... I've given up waiting for anyone to post their answers...
- The Colclough
Labels:
Animation,
Arbitrary Stopframe,
Video Embedded,
YouTube
Friday, 4 March 2011
Lenses, Coins, and Action
After a couple of weeks' delay, I've finally made Arbitrary Stopframe 4 - but it was an uphill battle to get it filmed.
The root of the problem was a small dark speck which has been appearing frequently at the same position on various photos taken on our Nikon D80. I decided to try and get rid of it before shooting AS4, so I took off the lens (the default zoom one that comes with the camera body), cleaned it as best I could, and then reattached it.
The camera and the lens then refused to talk to each other, making it impossible to control the aperture, and therefore impossible to set up properly for the stopmotion piece. I detached and reattached the lens a few times, but it didn't fix the issue.
So I decided to give up on the zoom lens altogether, and instead dug out one of our alternative lenses - a fixed-length, mid-angle model with an aperture control ring (which the zoom doesn't have). Attached this, took a test photo... and then discovered that that same darn speck showed up in exactly the same place - which meant it wasn't in the zoom lens at all, but on the image sensor.
I ummed and aahed, and then remembered that I've got a very soft paintbrush which I've never actually used for paint. So I set up the camera in full manual mode with a 30-second exposure time (thank goodness the D80 will still take photos with no lens on it), and while it thought it was taking an arty-farty time-lapse picture I flipped it over, stuck my paintbrush into its gubbins, and flicked away the offending bit of grot, which was fortunately visible to the naked eye so I could see what I was doing.
Reattach the alternative lens, take another test photo... and the speck was gone. That felt good.
All that remained then was to animate Doctor Murkum having a bad time with a £1 coin. Or rather, a few £1 coins. I've currently got thirty-something pound coins lurking around my room, but for the purposes of the animation I picked out the post-April-2008 Matthew Dent ones with the royal shield on them, because in my humble opinion they look better than the old ones. That's the one and only reason behind the particular number of coins that appear in the clip: that's just how many 2008-design £1s I've currently got.
I've noticed that the light flickers a bit in this episode. This is probably due the fluctuations in the natural light sneaking in through the window, as I forgot to fully close the curtains before I started animating. Note to self for next time...
Anywho, now that I've had my nice long rant about electronics and aesthetics, here's the clip from the centre of the furore:
...and now that I've got started again, I shall try and get back to doing these clips on a weekly basis. Watch this space!
- The Colclough
PS. unrelated: I reached a rather momentous landmark the day before yesterday: I drew my 2000th comic-strip episode! In case you want to know, it was Fort Paradox 56, and was executed with fibre-tip pens, with dialogue added in the computer using the dreaded font Comic Sans.
The root of the problem was a small dark speck which has been appearing frequently at the same position on various photos taken on our Nikon D80. I decided to try and get rid of it before shooting AS4, so I took off the lens (the default zoom one that comes with the camera body), cleaned it as best I could, and then reattached it.
The camera and the lens then refused to talk to each other, making it impossible to control the aperture, and therefore impossible to set up properly for the stopmotion piece. I detached and reattached the lens a few times, but it didn't fix the issue.
So I decided to give up on the zoom lens altogether, and instead dug out one of our alternative lenses - a fixed-length, mid-angle model with an aperture control ring (which the zoom doesn't have). Attached this, took a test photo... and then discovered that that same darn speck showed up in exactly the same place - which meant it wasn't in the zoom lens at all, but on the image sensor.
I ummed and aahed, and then remembered that I've got a very soft paintbrush which I've never actually used for paint. So I set up the camera in full manual mode with a 30-second exposure time (thank goodness the D80 will still take photos with no lens on it), and while it thought it was taking an arty-farty time-lapse picture I flipped it over, stuck my paintbrush into its gubbins, and flicked away the offending bit of grot, which was fortunately visible to the naked eye so I could see what I was doing.
Reattach the alternative lens, take another test photo... and the speck was gone. That felt good.
All that remained then was to animate Doctor Murkum having a bad time with a £1 coin. Or rather, a few £1 coins. I've currently got thirty-something pound coins lurking around my room, but for the purposes of the animation I picked out the post-April-2008 Matthew Dent ones with the royal shield on them, because in my humble opinion they look better than the old ones. That's the one and only reason behind the particular number of coins that appear in the clip: that's just how many 2008-design £1s I've currently got.
I've noticed that the light flickers a bit in this episode. This is probably due the fluctuations in the natural light sneaking in through the window, as I forgot to fully close the curtains before I started animating. Note to self for next time...
Anywho, now that I've had my nice long rant about electronics and aesthetics, here's the clip from the centre of the furore:
...and now that I've got started again, I shall try and get back to doing these clips on a weekly basis. Watch this space!
- The Colclough
PS. unrelated: I reached a rather momentous landmark the day before yesterday: I drew my 2000th comic-strip episode! In case you want to know, it was Fort Paradox 56, and was executed with fibre-tip pens, with dialogue added in the computer using the dreaded font Comic Sans.
Labels:
Animation,
Arbitrary Stopframe,
Camera,
Fort Paradox,
Video Embedded,
YouTube
Wednesday, 2 March 2011
A Rediscovery
This afternoon, I decided to go on a little archeological dig. Sort of.
Translation: I unpacked the bottom shelf of my wardrobe, which contains all my papers from sixth form, more or less undisturbed since I put them there two-and-a-half or maybe even three years ago. But I wasn't really after the papers - I was more interested in what they were sitting on: my first-year final coursework sculpture from my A-level in "Fine Art (Ceramics)", as I think the course was officially called.
It looks like this:
And it also looks like this:
Yes, those two photos really are the same object. The second one shows the view you see if you get down on the floor and look through the small viewing port in the front panel. That was the point: the brief was to create a sculpture which would force the viewer to change their position in order to fully appreciate the artwork. There's also some cunning forced-perspective stuff going on: the plasterwork is built onto some slanting inner walls, and both back corners of the box are hollow, which conveniently leaves room to store the plug and cable when the sculpture is packed away. The outer side walls come off (at least in theory - they were ridiculously stiff last time I tried moving them) to allow access to the four light bulbs for replacement when necessary, without disturbing the aesthetically-important parts of the box.
I think this piece would rank joint second as one of the biggest and most impractical artworks I've ever created, and solo second in terms of the ones that still exist. But despite the bulk, the weight, and the unimpressive exterior, I'm rather fond of the thing.
I got it wrong the first time round. Version 1 was made with all the sides in place, and the ceiling missing, which was all very well and good in terms of getting the plaster and paint onto the floors and walls but not so good in terms of making the ceiling fit. You could always see a load of nasty gaps where the separately-fabricated ceiling piece didn't really fit the rest of the cave.
And then, it went a bit mouldy.
So sometime during my A2 year, I revisited the cave, partially dismantled it (ie. removed the ceiling, front panel and outer side walls, and after killing off the fungus I then reattached the outer lid, flipped the whole thing upside-down, and remade the cave ceiling from scratch, this time plastering straight onto the insides of the box as I had done for the walls and floor. I seem to remember the original back-wall plasterwork fell off during the deconstruction, so what you see now is a new back which was made at the same time as the ceiling. That funny little flat-topped stalagmite thing at the back-left is a second-generation addition too.
Since then, all I've done with it was to bring it home, look inside it again, and then shove it in the wardrobe for posterity, underneath a heap of paperwork. So it was a bit of a blast from the past looking at it again today - and I was delighted to find, upon revisiting the cave, that it hasn't gone mouldy again in the last three years.
I should try doing something huge and impractical like that again sometime...
- The Colclough
Translation: I unpacked the bottom shelf of my wardrobe, which contains all my papers from sixth form, more or less undisturbed since I put them there two-and-a-half or maybe even three years ago. But I wasn't really after the papers - I was more interested in what they were sitting on: my first-year final coursework sculpture from my A-level in "Fine Art (Ceramics)", as I think the course was officially called.
It looks like this:
And it also looks like this:
Yes, those two photos really are the same object. The second one shows the view you see if you get down on the floor and look through the small viewing port in the front panel. That was the point: the brief was to create a sculpture which would force the viewer to change their position in order to fully appreciate the artwork. There's also some cunning forced-perspective stuff going on: the plasterwork is built onto some slanting inner walls, and both back corners of the box are hollow, which conveniently leaves room to store the plug and cable when the sculpture is packed away. The outer side walls come off (at least in theory - they were ridiculously stiff last time I tried moving them) to allow access to the four light bulbs for replacement when necessary, without disturbing the aesthetically-important parts of the box.
I think this piece would rank joint second as one of the biggest and most impractical artworks I've ever created, and solo second in terms of the ones that still exist. But despite the bulk, the weight, and the unimpressive exterior, I'm rather fond of the thing.
I got it wrong the first time round. Version 1 was made with all the sides in place, and the ceiling missing, which was all very well and good in terms of getting the plaster and paint onto the floors and walls but not so good in terms of making the ceiling fit. You could always see a load of nasty gaps where the separately-fabricated ceiling piece didn't really fit the rest of the cave.
And then, it went a bit mouldy.
So sometime during my A2 year, I revisited the cave, partially dismantled it (ie. removed the ceiling, front panel and outer side walls, and after killing off the fungus I then reattached the outer lid, flipped the whole thing upside-down, and remade the cave ceiling from scratch, this time plastering straight onto the insides of the box as I had done for the walls and floor. I seem to remember the original back-wall plasterwork fell off during the deconstruction, so what you see now is a new back which was made at the same time as the ceiling. That funny little flat-topped stalagmite thing at the back-left is a second-generation addition too.
Since then, all I've done with it was to bring it home, look inside it again, and then shove it in the wardrobe for posterity, underneath a heap of paperwork. So it was a bit of a blast from the past looking at it again today - and I was delighted to find, upon revisiting the cave, that it hasn't gone mouldy again in the last three years.
I should try doing something huge and impractical like that again sometime...
- The Colclough
Saturday, 26 February 2011
What's Possible
Possible Stuff:
As of Wednesday afternoon, I've actually got a paid commission - making a 90-second computer-graphics-based advert for Day One Publications. Still doesn't seem possible, but apparently it is. Crumbs.
Following on from that: it is possible to handle financial and legal matters without your brain turning to an off-green goo and exiting your skull via the earholes. Or so I'm told.
After seven months in the making, Fort Paradox gained its fiftieth episode last weekend. Half-way to a hundred. Wow. And as if that wasn't enough, the project has its first episode or two by a guest illustrator. I don't know about the rest of you, but from my POV that's all terribly exciting. And it does seem possible (like I said, it's been a while since we started), but again, I haven't quite got my head around it.
It is entirely possible (and I hope probable) that I'll get round to doing Arbitrary Stopframe 4 in the next few weeks. I've been a little distracted for the last fortnight by long-stay visitors, paid employment, and the fact that I'm running out of finished Alien President episodes, but I've got story plans for a couple more Arbitrary Stopframe clips. Watch this space.
It is possible, but difficult, to design a bathroom by committee. The way it's going in our family at the moment is that we came up with a perfectly serviceable plan several months ago (before discovering that Mum and Dad's bedroom was going mouldy around the corners, and deciding to de-fungus and decorate in there before doing the bathroom), and ever since then Mum's been revising the plan in every conceivable way, working out why the revisions won't work, and coming back to the original plan.
It is possible for the same composer to create some music that's crazy and thrilling, some that's beautiful and uplifting, and one little track that's deliberately, pervertedly, infuriatingly, brilliantly cringible, all on the same album. Case in point: Thomas Newman's soundtrack from WALL-E, which I've currently got on my hi-fi. Oddly enough, exactly the same guy pulled exactly the same stunt on Lemony Snicket's A Series of Unfortunate Events, which is also in my CD collection.
Speaking of music: it's probably possible to sit through the entire 2-disc Doctor Who Series 5 soundtrack by Murray Gold (had it as a birthday present), and not feel the slightest bit like you're having any fun for the whole two hours plus. But I suspect you might have to be a corpse in order to achieve this.
Impossible Stuff:
I'm sorry, but a dying man simply can't do what he did, with that implement, without missing at least a little bit. IMHO, that scene went beyond the bounds of Suspension of Disbelief and into the territory of Plain Impossible. If you've seen Tangled, you should know what I mean, although whether or not you agree is another matter. I've phrased it that way to try and avoid being spoiler-ish.
It is impossible to sit in the same room for too long without starting to feel like you're going to go bonkers. It's taken me a long time to realise this, but it's finally dawning on me.
And finally: IMPOSSIBLE GEOMETRY!!!
It was really tempting to paint a big letter 'S' inside the middle hexagon thing, but I resisted.
- The Colclough
As of Wednesday afternoon, I've actually got a paid commission - making a 90-second computer-graphics-based advert for Day One Publications. Still doesn't seem possible, but apparently it is. Crumbs.
Following on from that: it is possible to handle financial and legal matters without your brain turning to an off-green goo and exiting your skull via the earholes. Or so I'm told.
After seven months in the making, Fort Paradox gained its fiftieth episode last weekend. Half-way to a hundred. Wow. And as if that wasn't enough, the project has its first episode or two by a guest illustrator. I don't know about the rest of you, but from my POV that's all terribly exciting. And it does seem possible (like I said, it's been a while since we started), but again, I haven't quite got my head around it.
It is entirely possible (and I hope probable) that I'll get round to doing Arbitrary Stopframe 4 in the next few weeks. I've been a little distracted for the last fortnight by long-stay visitors, paid employment, and the fact that I'm running out of finished Alien President episodes, but I've got story plans for a couple more Arbitrary Stopframe clips. Watch this space.
It is possible, but difficult, to design a bathroom by committee. The way it's going in our family at the moment is that we came up with a perfectly serviceable plan several months ago (before discovering that Mum and Dad's bedroom was going mouldy around the corners, and deciding to de-fungus and decorate in there before doing the bathroom), and ever since then Mum's been revising the plan in every conceivable way, working out why the revisions won't work, and coming back to the original plan.
It is possible for the same composer to create some music that's crazy and thrilling, some that's beautiful and uplifting, and one little track that's deliberately, pervertedly, infuriatingly, brilliantly cringible, all on the same album. Case in point: Thomas Newman's soundtrack from WALL-E, which I've currently got on my hi-fi. Oddly enough, exactly the same guy pulled exactly the same stunt on Lemony Snicket's A Series of Unfortunate Events, which is also in my CD collection.
Speaking of music: it's probably possible to sit through the entire 2-disc Doctor Who Series 5 soundtrack by Murray Gold (had it as a birthday present), and not feel the slightest bit like you're having any fun for the whole two hours plus. But I suspect you might have to be a corpse in order to achieve this.
Impossible Stuff:
I'm sorry, but a dying man simply can't do what he did, with that implement, without missing at least a little bit. IMHO, that scene went beyond the bounds of Suspension of Disbelief and into the territory of Plain Impossible. If you've seen Tangled, you should know what I mean, although whether or not you agree is another matter. I've phrased it that way to try and avoid being spoiler-ish.
It is impossible to sit in the same room for too long without starting to feel like you're going to go bonkers. It's taken me a long time to realise this, but it's finally dawning on me.
And finally: IMPOSSIBLE GEOMETRY!!!
#007: Impossible Triangle
It was really tempting to paint a big letter 'S' inside the middle hexagon thing, but I resisted.
- The Colclough
Labels:
Alien President,
Arbitrary Stopframe,
Films,
Fort Paradox,
Impossible,
Music,
Paid Work,
Painting,
Possible
Thursday, 10 February 2011
Part III and All About It
Here's the third instalment of Arbitrary Stopframe, followed by a lot of verbosity relating to the clip:
Sam asked last week whether the episodes are going to fit together to form a bigger story. The answer is: to be honest, I have no idea. As of now, I'm not planning a bigger story, but as I go along I might start spotting connections. Watch this space, basically!
I rambled on last week about the problem of YouTube series that start well but fall apart on or around their second episode, and listed Problem C as being when there are two instalments, and every indication that the series is set for a long and excellent run, but it somehow vanishes into thin air and Ep 3 never shows. I've managed to avoid that one, as you can see from the presence of Episode 3 above.
I might not do one next week, as I'll have a guest staying, and it'd be a bit antisocial to ignore them for a day just to get a bit of animation done. Normal service (i.e. Ep 4) will resume on the week commencing Monday 21st.
But having avoided Problem C, I've discovered something much more worrying:
On a brighter note, in case anyone's wondering what all that stuff says on the computer monitor in the clip, here's a transcript:
Contrary to popular belief, it is in fact possible to execute a stopmotion animation in a very small and hard-to-access location (such as the inside of an inkjet printer) without going stark staring bonkers in the process. There are three main ways of achieving this.
The first way to avoid going stark staring bonkers during your animation session is if you are already stark staring bonkers to begin with. Many of the best animators take this approach, and are always careful to remove any lingering traces of sanity and leave them at the studio door before commencing work. While there is no reliable scientific evidence, it is widely believed that this is the approach taken by Henry Selick, director of The Nightmare Before Christmas and Coraline.
The second approach is to channel in impending insanity through your characters instead of bottling it up in your own brain and allowing it to ferment there. This is particularly effective if you are animating a character who is already deranged (e.g. Ron Haggard), or at least moderately eccentric (e.g. Wallace). The results from this technique can sometimes be impressive – see for example the relative collectedness still exhibited by Nick Park after all these years – but they are not always reliable, particularly for method directors.
The third approach is not recommended, as its primary ingredient is paracetamol, in a dose which would be lethal to most known human-based life forms, even animators.
Mea culpa: there's a typo in the third paragraph. It was meant to say 'channel any impending insanity'.
And finally, on an unrelated topic, here's another painting I finished the other day:
No relation to Arbitrary Stopframe, despite the similar-sounding names. It began life as a random pattern of leftover watercolours dribbled onto the canvas, and then added to with acrylics.
- The Colclough
Sam asked last week whether the episodes are going to fit together to form a bigger story. The answer is: to be honest, I have no idea. As of now, I'm not planning a bigger story, but as I go along I might start spotting connections. Watch this space, basically!
I rambled on last week about the problem of YouTube series that start well but fall apart on or around their second episode, and listed Problem C as being when there are two instalments, and every indication that the series is set for a long and excellent run, but it somehow vanishes into thin air and Ep 3 never shows. I've managed to avoid that one, as you can see from the presence of Episode 3 above.
I might not do one next week, as I'll have a guest staying, and it'd be a bit antisocial to ignore them for a day just to get a bit of animation done. Normal service (i.e. Ep 4) will resume on the week commencing Monday 21st.
But having avoided Problem C, I've discovered something much more worrying:
- Problem D: you're busy animating, and after a few moments squinting into the viewfinder you suddenly find that you can't focus one of your eyes.
On a brighter note, in case anyone's wondering what all that stuff says on the computer monitor in the clip, here's a transcript:
*****
How to Animate in Confined Spaces
Without Going Totally Insane
Contrary to popular belief, it is in fact possible to execute a stopmotion animation in a very small and hard-to-access location (such as the inside of an inkjet printer) without going stark staring bonkers in the process. There are three main ways of achieving this.
The first way to avoid going stark staring bonkers during your animation session is if you are already stark staring bonkers to begin with. Many of the best animators take this approach, and are always careful to remove any lingering traces of sanity and leave them at the studio door before commencing work. While there is no reliable scientific evidence, it is widely believed that this is the approach taken by Henry Selick, director of The Nightmare Before Christmas and Coraline.
The second approach is to channel in impending insanity through your characters instead of bottling it up in your own brain and allowing it to ferment there. This is particularly effective if you are animating a character who is already deranged (e.g. Ron Haggard), or at least moderately eccentric (e.g. Wallace). The results from this technique can sometimes be impressive – see for example the relative collectedness still exhibited by Nick Park after all these years – but they are not always reliable, particularly for method directors.
The third approach is not recommended, as its primary ingredient is paracetamol, in a dose which would be lethal to most known human-based life forms, even animators.
*****
Mea culpa: there's a typo in the third paragraph. It was meant to say 'channel any impending insanity'.
And finally, on an unrelated topic, here's another painting I finished the other day:
#006: Arbitrary Strata
No relation to Arbitrary Stopframe, despite the similar-sounding names. It began life as a random pattern of leftover watercolours dribbled onto the canvas, and then added to with acrylics.
- The Colclough
Labels:
Animation,
Arbitrary Stopframe,
Computer,
Important Stuff,
Painting,
YouTube
Saturday, 5 February 2011
Half a Century!
No, it isn't my 50th birthday yet. Just my 50th post on A White Horizon.
I thought I'd better do something to mark the occasion. My initial thought was, "How about I write up fifty facts about myself?" - followed shortly by "That's a bit boring. I should do fifty real facts and fifty fake ones, and mix them all up!"
So what you will see below is a list of 100 claims about myself, half of which are true, and half of which are a bit more on the fictional side. Your mission, should you choose to accept it: work out (or at least take a guess) which is which, and post your answers in the comments area. The truth will be revealed in a future blog post.
Advance warning: it’s not as simple as it might seem – a lot of the false claims are not too far from the truth, but with one or two details altered in order to falsify the overall statement. But on the bright side, I think a few answers are given away in the previous 49 posts, so a certain amount of help is available if you can be bothered with the re-reading.
So here goes - FIFTY FACTS AND FIFTY FIBS:
This could get confusing...
- The Colclough
I thought I'd better do something to mark the occasion. My initial thought was, "How about I write up fifty facts about myself?" - followed shortly by "That's a bit boring. I should do fifty real facts and fifty fake ones, and mix them all up!"
So what you will see below is a list of 100 claims about myself, half of which are true, and half of which are a bit more on the fictional side. Your mission, should you choose to accept it: work out (or at least take a guess) which is which, and post your answers in the comments area. The truth will be revealed in a future blog post.
Advance warning: it’s not as simple as it might seem – a lot of the false claims are not too far from the truth, but with one or two details altered in order to falsify the overall statement. But on the bright side, I think a few answers are given away in the previous 49 posts, so a certain amount of help is available if you can be bothered with the re-reading.
So here goes - FIFTY FACTS AND FIFTY FIBS:
- I was born in Southampton.
- If you follow my dad’s-dad’s-dad etc line back far enough, one of them was a second cousin of Henry VIII.
- I hold Australian dual citizenship.
- I am the oldest of 5 siblings.
- I have a high-functioning autistic spectrum condition.
- I’ve always been single.
- I got dumped once, but it was a bit irrelevant because I didn’t know I was in a position to be dumped from.
- My eyes are green.
- I need glasses because I’m long-sighted.
- I am a morning person.
- Breakfast, for me, is usually some sort of cereal with milk on it.
- I’ve got a random patch of hair on my lower back, and I’ve never been able to work out whether it’s meant to be there.
- I’ve never had a filling, blood transfusion, broken bone, braces, piercing, tattoo, hangover, or basically anything.
- I hate having anything tight around my neck.
- I am allergic to lavender.
- I have an irrational phobia of spreadsheet software.
- My favourite colour is white.
- I have three left feet.
- My first home was in Havant, near Portsmouth, but we moved to Bristol when I was 3 weeks old.
- After leaving Havant, we lived in Bristol for six years.
- One of my earliest memories is of getting scared to death by the unexplained presence of a small, stuffed E.T. toy in my bedroom when I was about 2 or 3.
- One of my clearest memories from my early childhood in Bristol involves our old Peugeot 104 breaking down in the carpark exit at Asda.
- During my three years in primary school, I earned notoriety for accidentally flooding the men’s room.
- One of my oddest memories from primary school was when my class was taken to the staff room and fed turnips. I can’t remember the reasons, just the vegetables.
- I used to be an avid roller-skater.
- I set fire to my hair once, I think when I was 7 or thereabouts.
- I’ve lived in a hotel room for about three weeks.
- I once had an ice-cream birthday cake which turned out to be sesame-seed flavour.
- I’ve lived in Hong Kong for two years.
- While living in Hong Kong, one of my most prized possessions was a two- or three-inch-long snail shell which I found in a gutter.
- Throughout our stay in Hong Kong, we had to get a non-air-conditioned bus to and from church, because the bus operator never bothered putting any on that particular route, the lousy so-and-sos.
- I was forced to learn to touch-type when I was about 8 or 9. I resented it a bit at the time, but I now find it extremely useful, so I’m retroactively grateful.
- In my previous house, I had a playroom in the garage conversion.
- I once helped to fell a giant conifer which had been irreparably damaged by a storm.
- I have been to France, Germany and Poland in the last ten years.
- I studied the piano (not sure whose idea it was) for a few years, but gave up after passing ABRSM Grade 4.
- I was once in the same room as one of the guys who designed the basic audio-handling layer for the MPEG-2 video coding algorithms. I didn’t get to speak to him, as I don’t know any Japanese, and the translators were busy.
- I’ve been involved in three road accidents since passing my driving test in September 2007.
- I only have a driving license for automatic cars.
- I’ve had a week’s work experience with the BBC.
- I hold a Bachelor of Arts degree in Media Production.
- The most expensive film I’ve been involved with was a final-year college project which cost just under £500.
- I spent all three of my final-year Media Production theory exams rambling on about Avatar, after having seen the film just once, and ended up getting a First in the module even though I hated it (the module, not the film).
- I’ve been to five consecutive Root Hill camps, and have no intention of stopping if I can help it.
- If I had to pick a favourite bit of the Bible, it’d probably be the last two chapters of Revelation.
- The Screwtape Letters is one of my favourite pieces of literature ever.
- I own four Rubik’s Cubes of different sizes, and can solve any of them within 10 minutes.
- And I know the solution to a 2x4 Rubik’s Magic too.
- I have met Ratatouille writer/director Brad Bird.
- My favourite animated film is Kung Fu Panda.
- Shrek 2 is the only animated film which I’ve seen at the cinema more than once.
- I have seen some episodes of The Simpsons, but never seen any Futurama.
- I have seen all 74 episodes of Doctor Who aired since the show restarted in 2005 (i.e. Rose onwards) at least once each, and several of them twice or more.
- Continuing the point about Doctor Who: I can even remember who wrote each one.
- The Lord of the Rings is the only multi-film series for which I’ve seen every instalment on the big screen.
- I have all six Star Wars films on DVD.
- I own exactly three films on Blu-ray: Inception, Up and How to Train Your Dragon.
- The composer responsible for the greatest number of CDs in my collection is Howard Shore.
- Continuing the point about CDs: the second is Lady Gaga.
- I am a fan of 3-D film technology, and one of my ambitions is to obtain a 3-D camera.
- I once made my own pair of 3-D glasses and used them to watch a DVD.
- I went to the UK premiere of TRON: Legacy.
- I have never used a computer with a Linux-based operating system.
- When I was younger, I used to like building towns out of wooden blocks, cardboard boxes and Lego, and I’ve got photographic evidence to prove it.
- I used to have a model railway in the garage, but I gave up on it in the end because the board warped, the tracks kept getting stupidly dirty and the trains never ran very well.
- Both of my current computers are iMacs.
- I did some C++ programming once, but I’ve forgotten nearly all of it now.
- I have dabbled in computer games programming in Visual Basic. My biggest project was a Breakout clone.
- I am proficient at coding web pages in PHP.
- The bus I used to get to sixth form was so unreliable that I wrote a poem about its failings.
- I have produced a series of small sculptural works from a broken Shloer bottle.
- I have built a 5 x 7 ft mosaic, using over 400 custom-designed and hand-crafted tiles.
- I sometimes like devising writing systems for the languages spoken in my fictional worlds, and in more recent years I’ve made a point of never giving them 26 letters. Ossirow has 23, Dyngarria Eribit has 30 (well, sort of 29 and a half), and Grud Ballum has 24, 27, 38 or 41 depending how you interpret the system.
- I have written nearly 2000 comic strip episodes, and the total is still climbing.
- I can draw geometric stuff, and cartoon people, but I tend to fail epically if I ever try to draw a realistic picture of a human.
- I’ve been known to draw something, and have absolutely no idea what it’s meant to be.
- I have owned three camcorders.
- One of my life ambitions is to make a big-budget film adaptation of The Pilgrim’s Progress.
- I have a vague, half-baked contingency plan in case I ever get invited to write for Primeval.
- I have a vague, half-baked contingency plan in case I ever get invited to write for Doctor Who.
- My bedroom walls are yellow. I chose the colour.
- I love Marmite.
- I once took six months to eat a Bounty bar.
- I dislike Creme Eggs as I find them too sweet.
- Most of my favourite foods are French.
- Most of my socks are green or brown.
- I dislike centaurs – not for any philosophical reason, just because their physiology is so badly thought out.
- I have a basic first aid qualification.
- I have eaten kangaroo.
- I go swimming two mornings per week.
- I like watching jellyfish.
- Guinea-pigs freak me out.
- My favourite town in the world is Exeter.
- I’ve got an old diary (started when I was 7 going on 8), whose cover features some remarkably well-preserved petals from my back-garden sunflower crop of 1995.
- One of my friends is an Oscar-winning film composer.
- I once got a 50p coin from Gibraltar in my change. I’ve kept it ever since.
- I have an antique fibre-optic lamp, on indefinite loan from my Grandad.
- I usually vote Labour.
- I firmly believe that you are never too old for Lego.
- This is my fiftieth blog post.
This could get confusing...
- The Colclough
Friday, 4 February 2011
The Second Instalment
So, I've made it to Number 2.
Back in the early days of my YouTuber-ness, I came across this phenomenon with several different web series, where Episode 1 was really good and then Episode 2, in one way or another, was where it all fell apart. I found three major variants:
Once you get to three or more, there seems to be some sort of critical-mass effect, so Ep 2 is generally the cruch point. At least, that's what happened in the series I looked at.
Which all raises the question of how I'm getting on:
And speaking of long-running series and things: my next post on A White Horizon will be the fiftieth. Fifty already? Crumbs 8/
- The Colclough
Back in the early days of my YouTuber-ness, I came across this phenomenon with several different web series, where Episode 1 was really good and then Episode 2, in one way or another, was where it all fell apart. I found three major variants:
- Problem A: they make something labelled 'Episode 1', but they might as well not have said 'Episode' anything, because there's never a second one.
- Problem B: the second instalment does show up, but it's a massive letdown, and the series either ends forthwith, or else straggles along as a pathetic shadow of what it could have been.
- Problem C: there are two instalments, and every indication that the series is set for a long and excellent run, but it somehow vanishes into thin air and Ep 3 never shows.
Once you get to three or more, there seems to be some sort of critical-mass effect, so Ep 2 is generally the cruch point. At least, that's what happened in the series I looked at.
Which all raises the question of how I'm getting on:
- I've obviously managed to avoid Problem A, because as you can see, I've got a second episode right here.
- I'll leave it to you to decide whether I've fallen foul of Problem B... is 'Fruit Pastilles' up to par compared with 'Marker Pen'?
- And I've got some plans for another Arbitrary Stopframe clip for next week, so hopefully I'll avoid Problem C.
And speaking of long-running series and things: my next post on A White Horizon will be the fiftieth. Fifty already? Crumbs 8/
- The Colclough
Labels:
Animation,
Arbitrary Stopframe,
Beginning,
Video Embedded,
YouTube
Saturday, 29 January 2011
The Animator and the Animated
I am an animator. I have recently remembered this facet of my life, after more or less neglecting it for a few months, and I've decided to do something about it.
And this right here is that something:
On a not-so-distantly-related note, last night I finally got round to seeing Hayao Miyazaki's Spirited Away. It won the Oscar for Best Animated Feature in 2003, making it the only cel-animated film and the only Japanese film ever to have done so. And until last night, it was the only Best Animated Feature Oscar winner which I hadn't seen. So now I can claim my viewing to be complete, unless you want to get really nit-picky and claim that the English dub doesn't count and I have to go and watch it again in the original Japanese. Please don't get nit-picky; I don't speak any Japanese.
I must admit it was quite a bizarre experience, and not something for the easily confused (a film set in a bath-house for the spirits? Not something you're likely to find in any western-made movie), but enjoyable nonetheless. It was the second Miyazaki film I've seen, following his 1979 feature debut The Castle of Cagliostro, which was a bit easier to get one's head around by dint of it being set in Europe.
I'm not sure how much longer I'll be able to maintain my claim to have seen all of the Oscar-winning animated films, what with the next round of awards due in just a few weeks, but chances are the next winner will be either Toy Story 3 (which would be the first sequel to win the award), or just-maybe How to Train Your Dragon (which would be the first win for DreamWorks Animation since Shrek, nine years ago) - and I've already seen both of them. So I might be safe for a bit.
And in the meanwhile, I've got a couple more ideas up my sleeve for Arbitrary Stopframe 2 and beyond...
Keep watching this space!
- The Colclough
And this right here is that something:
On a not-so-distantly-related note, last night I finally got round to seeing Hayao Miyazaki's Spirited Away. It won the Oscar for Best Animated Feature in 2003, making it the only cel-animated film and the only Japanese film ever to have done so. And until last night, it was the only Best Animated Feature Oscar winner which I hadn't seen. So now I can claim my viewing to be complete, unless you want to get really nit-picky and claim that the English dub doesn't count and I have to go and watch it again in the original Japanese. Please don't get nit-picky; I don't speak any Japanese.
I must admit it was quite a bizarre experience, and not something for the easily confused (a film set in a bath-house for the spirits? Not something you're likely to find in any western-made movie), but enjoyable nonetheless. It was the second Miyazaki film I've seen, following his 1979 feature debut The Castle of Cagliostro, which was a bit easier to get one's head around by dint of it being set in Europe.
I'm not sure how much longer I'll be able to maintain my claim to have seen all of the Oscar-winning animated films, what with the next round of awards due in just a few weeks, but chances are the next winner will be either Toy Story 3 (which would be the first sequel to win the award), or just-maybe How to Train Your Dragon (which would be the first win for DreamWorks Animation since Shrek, nine years ago) - and I've already seen both of them. So I might be safe for a bit.
And in the meanwhile, I've got a couple more ideas up my sleeve for Arbitrary Stopframe 2 and beyond...
Keep watching this space!
- The Colclough
Labels:
Animation,
Arbitrary Stopframe,
Beginning,
Creativity,
Video Embedded,
YouTube
Thursday, 27 January 2011
A New Incentive
For the benefit of anyone who hasn't already seen it on my YT channel, here's a vlog I did today about my recent lack of animated output, and what I intend to do about it:
Check back tomorrow or Saturday for the first instalment of Arbitrary Stopmotion!
- The Colclough
Check back tomorrow or Saturday for the first instalment of Arbitrary Stopmotion!
- The Colclough
Labels:
Animation,
Arbitrary Stopframe,
Beginning,
Video Embedded,
Vlog,
YouTube
Wednesday, 26 January 2011
Building Worlds
I've just been re-reading some of the posts from my old Tailcast blog (no longer online; I've got them backed up in a Word document), in particular a three-part ramble about fictional worlds of my own making, which I posted in mid-2009.
The basic gist of the thing was about how I've moved, and am still moving, through a series of different fictional worlds, and generally heading along an upward spiral in terms of their self-integrity and publishability. There was commentary on some of my earliest and least coherent efforts, and on the relative merits of the Geometriverse, and it all wrapped up with some vague remarks about hopefully going on to build new and better worlds which might actually be fit for release on, say, TV.
It made quite interesting re-reading, and it's inspired me to have another ramble on the topic, covering the developments of the last year or two.
The Geometriverse, for starters, is still going strong. It's been half a year since I last wrote any Cylinder and Miserable strips, and it'll be a few months yet before I restart, but it's a deliberate and controlled hiatus, and I'm still hoping to start work on Series 3 sometime, maybe as early as this year. While the webcomic is mostly an exercise in arcane humour, the narrative glue holding the plot arcs together is getting stronger and stronger with each new series - my plans for Series 3 are already shaping up to be the project's most tightly-written run yet.
But that's an extension of a world which I already knew about when I penned my earlier treatise. What's more talkable-about is the fact that, as predicted back in mid-2009, I've got new fictions in development, and they look likely to become my best yet.
Megastropulodon, for example. The existing short film, conceived in the first months of 2010, is just a precursor to the bigger narrative, a tiny little sample of the monster-fuelled weirdness of my planned TV series. The basic plan is that the story in the 15-minute film will be stretched out to become the overall narrative framework for a 6 x 30 minute series, with numerous other subplots and side stories being built into it. I've recently gone back to work on writing the series scripts, and I've now finished the first drafts for Episodes 1, 5 and 6, so I'm starting to see the light at the end of the tunnel in terms of getting the bones of the story out on paper for the first 'block' of episodes. Sure, there'll be a load of rewrites to do before the stories are ready for the cameras, but the important first step has been taken.
Now you might ask "Why have you written Episodes 1, 5 and 6 first? What happened to Episodes 2, 3 and 4?"
And that leads me on to what I think is one of the most interesting developments in my fictional-world-building of late: the strange and fascinating process of co-creation.
I've left the middle three episodes of Megastropulodon unwritten for now, for one thing because I've got a clearer idea of what should be happening in the three framing episodes (due in part to their re-use of scenes and plot threads from the short film), but also because I'd like to keep some room open for other writers. Yes, the show is my brainchild, but in the world of television there are relatively few series creators who then go on to write every single episode on their lonesome. Gerry & Sylvia Anderson wrote only the pilot episode of Thunderbirds, leaving others to scribe the next 31 instalments. Doctor Who has had seven different writers per season for the last few years (I counted, I'm a geek). Thus far, I've got someone pencilled in for Megastropulodon Episode 4, but the other two episodes are at a bit of a loose end - but it's early days, so I'm not too worried about the gap at the moment.
What it comes down to is that two heads are often better than one. I don't need to explain the principle, do I. Suffice to say that it holds true for TV writing, and sometimes for comic strips as well. They're probably right when they say that "too many cooks spoil the broth", but with TV writing you can assign each writer their own episode(s) to work on, and then each cook contributes their own semi-independant broth to a big, exciting multi-soup smorgasbord. I'm not sure if that mixing of metaphors (or mixing of broths) made any sense to you, but I think it more or less says what I wanted it to say.
Looking back over my previous fiction-making career, I seem to have come full circle, from worlds shared with Cat back in the long-gone days when we used to play with snail shells and cuddly toys, via a period of more solipsistic work (e.g. the aforementioned Geometriverse), and now back to co-developed universes, albeit in a slightly more sophisticated form e.g. Megastropulodon, and the oft-harped-on-about Fort Paradox.
Speaking, or harping, of which: sorry to have to mention my pet subject again, but it happens to be the prime example of what I'm on about here.
The project was my idea in the first place. As in, I was the one who first said to Tim and Sarah, "why don't we get a load of our characters together and write a big, confusing cross-continuity comic?", and I was the one who came up with the name. But I never wanted it to be a solo thing. Right from the outset, I wanted it to have not just a plurality of characters representing different species from unrelated universes, but also a plurality of writers and viewpoints, illustrators and art styles. And that's what we've got. There are some places where we can't even remember which bit was whose idea, because we've built so many layers on top of each other's initial concepts. Three brains have definitely made a better broth than one. And even now, it isn't intended as a closed-membership club. So far it's remained an exclusive circle in practice, but that's simply because nobody else has expressed any interest in joining in, not because we're intentionally keeping it that way. I intend to address the issue in a bit more detail on the Fort Paradox blog next week, next time it's my turn to post an episode and do the Weekly FAQ feature.
So... I think I've said my piece. I shall leave you to chew over its implications. Or to ignore it and get a cup of tea instead, if that's what takes your fancy.
- The Colclough
The basic gist of the thing was about how I've moved, and am still moving, through a series of different fictional worlds, and generally heading along an upward spiral in terms of their self-integrity and publishability. There was commentary on some of my earliest and least coherent efforts, and on the relative merits of the Geometriverse, and it all wrapped up with some vague remarks about hopefully going on to build new and better worlds which might actually be fit for release on, say, TV.
It made quite interesting re-reading, and it's inspired me to have another ramble on the topic, covering the developments of the last year or two.
The Geometriverse, for starters, is still going strong. It's been half a year since I last wrote any Cylinder and Miserable strips, and it'll be a few months yet before I restart, but it's a deliberate and controlled hiatus, and I'm still hoping to start work on Series 3 sometime, maybe as early as this year. While the webcomic is mostly an exercise in arcane humour, the narrative glue holding the plot arcs together is getting stronger and stronger with each new series - my plans for Series 3 are already shaping up to be the project's most tightly-written run yet.
But that's an extension of a world which I already knew about when I penned my earlier treatise. What's more talkable-about is the fact that, as predicted back in mid-2009, I've got new fictions in development, and they look likely to become my best yet.
Megastropulodon, for example. The existing short film, conceived in the first months of 2010, is just a precursor to the bigger narrative, a tiny little sample of the monster-fuelled weirdness of my planned TV series. The basic plan is that the story in the 15-minute film will be stretched out to become the overall narrative framework for a 6 x 30 minute series, with numerous other subplots and side stories being built into it. I've recently gone back to work on writing the series scripts, and I've now finished the first drafts for Episodes 1, 5 and 6, so I'm starting to see the light at the end of the tunnel in terms of getting the bones of the story out on paper for the first 'block' of episodes. Sure, there'll be a load of rewrites to do before the stories are ready for the cameras, but the important first step has been taken.
Now you might ask "Why have you written Episodes 1, 5 and 6 first? What happened to Episodes 2, 3 and 4?"
And that leads me on to what I think is one of the most interesting developments in my fictional-world-building of late: the strange and fascinating process of co-creation.
I've left the middle three episodes of Megastropulodon unwritten for now, for one thing because I've got a clearer idea of what should be happening in the three framing episodes (due in part to their re-use of scenes and plot threads from the short film), but also because I'd like to keep some room open for other writers. Yes, the show is my brainchild, but in the world of television there are relatively few series creators who then go on to write every single episode on their lonesome. Gerry & Sylvia Anderson wrote only the pilot episode of Thunderbirds, leaving others to scribe the next 31 instalments. Doctor Who has had seven different writers per season for the last few years (I counted, I'm a geek). Thus far, I've got someone pencilled in for Megastropulodon Episode 4, but the other two episodes are at a bit of a loose end - but it's early days, so I'm not too worried about the gap at the moment.
What it comes down to is that two heads are often better than one. I don't need to explain the principle, do I. Suffice to say that it holds true for TV writing, and sometimes for comic strips as well. They're probably right when they say that "too many cooks spoil the broth", but with TV writing you can assign each writer their own episode(s) to work on, and then each cook contributes their own semi-independant broth to a big, exciting multi-soup smorgasbord. I'm not sure if that mixing of metaphors (or mixing of broths) made any sense to you, but I think it more or less says what I wanted it to say.
Looking back over my previous fiction-making career, I seem to have come full circle, from worlds shared with Cat back in the long-gone days when we used to play with snail shells and cuddly toys, via a period of more solipsistic work (e.g. the aforementioned Geometriverse), and now back to co-developed universes, albeit in a slightly more sophisticated form e.g. Megastropulodon, and the oft-harped-on-about Fort Paradox.
Speaking, or harping, of which: sorry to have to mention my pet subject again, but it happens to be the prime example of what I'm on about here.
The project was my idea in the first place. As in, I was the one who first said to Tim and Sarah, "why don't we get a load of our characters together and write a big, confusing cross-continuity comic?", and I was the one who came up with the name. But I never wanted it to be a solo thing. Right from the outset, I wanted it to have not just a plurality of characters representing different species from unrelated universes, but also a plurality of writers and viewpoints, illustrators and art styles. And that's what we've got. There are some places where we can't even remember which bit was whose idea, because we've built so many layers on top of each other's initial concepts. Three brains have definitely made a better broth than one. And even now, it isn't intended as a closed-membership club. So far it's remained an exclusive circle in practice, but that's simply because nobody else has expressed any interest in joining in, not because we're intentionally keeping it that way. I intend to address the issue in a bit more detail on the Fort Paradox blog next week, next time it's my turn to post an episode and do the Weekly FAQ feature.
So... I think I've said my piece. I shall leave you to chew over its implications. Or to ignore it and get a cup of tea instead, if that's what takes your fancy.
- The Colclough
Saturday, 22 January 2011
Some You Win, Some You Lose
Okay, so I lost the "First 11 for '11" race. I was on 10, and then I ran out of things to write about, and left Hannah to steam ahead and win. I also got a bit sidetracked with the illustrations for Fort Paradox 33 to 38, which I was trying to get done as part of another geeky race against Tim. Which I'm pleased to be able to say I won. Still, 11 For 11 was pretty close at 11-10, so I'm not too distraught.
Now here's a little philosophical question that's just occurred to me: is it better to play a race or other game against an enemy and win, or to play it (presumably much more enjoyably) against a friend and lose? Not saying Tim's an enemy - far from it - it's a hypothetical question.
And that in turn leads on to the bigger philosophical question of what constitutes a friend and how one comes by them in the first place.
In case you hadn't noticed, this post seems to be drifting into deep and angsty territory. If this is worrying you, Tim, don't panic - I'll write something less depressing you-know-where afterwards B]
So, back to the subject: I don't know about the rest of you, but I'm not the most gregarious type, I very quickly get lost in a crowd, and it usually takes me years to build up any sort of meaningful friendship with anyone - meaningful as in knowing someone better than just to say hi to. I know there was a time, pre-1998, when I didn't know Tim or Sarah Johnston existed, whereas now I know they exist and I'm absolutely convinced that they're awesome, but in all honesty I can't remember how I got from one point to the other. It was quite a long process, I think. Once in several blue moons I meet someone new and would consider them a friend almost straight away, but for me that event is nearly as rare as hen's teeth.
Must... not... get sidetracked... into a pointless discussion of chicken dentistry...
But then again, having said that, my circle of friends might be smallish but it contains some brilliant specimens. Okay, maybe 'specimens' isn't the right word to use, but you know what I meant. I hope. The point is, I like to think I have good taste in people. Too much normality gets boring, but there's not much chance of that happening in my vicinity, as I seem to be slowly accumulating a collection of rather wonderful eccentrics.
And I like it that way. I'd rather have a handful of fellow geeks around me than a huge contact list of 'normal' people any day.
To the few (you probably know who you are): thanks for being there. I'm really glad to know you, even if you do sometimes confuse me, or occasionally wipe the floor with me in some race that I challenged you to. I should learn my lesson and stop challenging people to races, maybe...
Ooh, look, I managed to end my deep and angsty ramble on a high note. Am pleased with that.
And on that bombshell, it's time to give you my latest bundle of stats (I wonder if I'll miss putting stats on the end of my posts?), and wrap up "First 11 for '11":
- The Colclough
Now here's a little philosophical question that's just occurred to me: is it better to play a race or other game against an enemy and win, or to play it (presumably much more enjoyably) against a friend and lose? Not saying Tim's an enemy - far from it - it's a hypothetical question.
And that in turn leads on to the bigger philosophical question of what constitutes a friend and how one comes by them in the first place.
In case you hadn't noticed, this post seems to be drifting into deep and angsty territory. If this is worrying you, Tim, don't panic - I'll write something less depressing you-know-where afterwards B]
So, back to the subject: I don't know about the rest of you, but I'm not the most gregarious type, I very quickly get lost in a crowd, and it usually takes me years to build up any sort of meaningful friendship with anyone - meaningful as in knowing someone better than just to say hi to. I know there was a time, pre-1998, when I didn't know Tim or Sarah Johnston existed, whereas now I know they exist and I'm absolutely convinced that they're awesome, but in all honesty I can't remember how I got from one point to the other. It was quite a long process, I think. Once in several blue moons I meet someone new and would consider them a friend almost straight away, but for me that event is nearly as rare as hen's teeth.
Must... not... get sidetracked... into a pointless discussion of chicken dentistry...
But then again, having said that, my circle of friends might be smallish but it contains some brilliant specimens. Okay, maybe 'specimens' isn't the right word to use, but you know what I meant. I hope. The point is, I like to think I have good taste in people. Too much normality gets boring, but there's not much chance of that happening in my vicinity, as I seem to be slowly accumulating a collection of rather wonderful eccentrics.
And I like it that way. I'd rather have a handful of fellow geeks around me than a huge contact list of 'normal' people any day.
To the few (you probably know who you are): thanks for being there. I'm really glad to know you, even if you do sometimes confuse me, or occasionally wipe the floor with me in some race that I challenged you to. I should learn my lesson and stop challenging people to races, maybe...
Ooh, look, I managed to end my deep and angsty ramble on a high note. Am pleased with that.
And on that bombshell, it's time to give you my latest bundle of stats (I wonder if I'll miss putting stats on the end of my posts?), and wrap up "First 11 for '11":
- 11 For 11 status: 11 down, nil to go - race over
- Latest book read: The Dark Tower, and other unpublished fiction by C. S. Lewis
- Latest film/TV watched: deleted scenes from X-Men III: The Last Stand (dir. Brett Ratner, 2006)
- Latest music listened to: Adiemus: Songs of Sanctuary by Karl Jenkins (1995) currently on speakers
- Latest food/sweets/whatever eaten: lunch = leek and potato soup with bacon and courgette muffins, followed by coffee
- Programs and web pages currently running: Outlook 2007, Word 2007, Windows Media Player, Skype, Firefox (tabs: Blogspot Create Post; A White Horizon, hannahlikessheepbaa.blogspot.com, MatNav)
- Webcomics posted today: Cylinder and Miserable #1135
- The Colclough
Labels:
Beginning,
Ending,
First 11 for '11,
Fort Paradox,
Friends,
Important Stuff
Monday, 17 January 2011
The Better Side
No, nothing to do with ITV1's current tagline. That's "The Brigher Side", anyway, not "Better". And I'm more of a BBC watcher.
More to do with the fact that Saturday had some really bad bits, and some really good bits. (Hannah's blog post in the small hours of the morning about good and bad experiences was rather timely, as it turns out.) I won't depress you with the bad bits of my weekend - I'd prefer to ramble about the good bits instead.
The big news: I've finished making those blasted DVDs at last! After waging an epic war against my DVD burning software, ranging across three different computers, I finally nailed it down on a little old laptop and compelled it to do my will. So now I've got a nice neat row of finished RH DVDs sitting in a cardboard box by my desk and waiting to be put in the post.
I also decided that I was finished with my latest painting. It involved six different layers of colour (each allowed to dry before the next was applied), and although I actually put the last one down on Friday, I thought at the time there would be more to do. But on Saturday morning, I went back and looked at it again, and I said to myself "nope, that's enough. I'm going to call it a day." And then, for lack of a better title, that's exactly what I did.
Yes, I do realise that I have committed a truly atrocious pun right there. My sincerest apologies to those of you with delicate linguistic sensibilities.
I also made more use of my new webcam. It's rapidly turning out to be better value for money than anything else I've ever bought (not difficult, considering how little I had to pay for it). Skype is much fun.
And I've done the illustrations for Fort Paradox Episodes 33 and 34, which feature a new experimental art style which I've never used for any other cartoon before. It involves biros, I'm quite pleased with how it's come out.
And now for something completely different (and altogether nerdier): on Saturday, I used Linux for the first time. My Grandad was asking if there was a free operating system he could use to recondition an ancient PC of his, so I made him a Ubuntu installer disc. But before handing it over, I thought I'd try it out myself in demo mode on our family laptop. It more or less worked, except that the laptop's optical disc drive is basically shot so it took ages to read the disc and load the software. It took me all of two minutes to find my way around the OS though, and I already like it almost as much as Windows, and much better than Mac OSX.
Since I've already got a perfectly good Windows installation on each of the machines I use regularly at the moment, I'll probably stick with dear old Microsoft for the time being. But I got a very good first impression of Ubuntu, so you never know - I might end up going the whole open-source hog someday!
My stats, for the next-to-last post of the 11 For 11 race...
- The Colclough
More to do with the fact that Saturday had some really bad bits, and some really good bits. (Hannah's blog post in the small hours of the morning about good and bad experiences was rather timely, as it turns out.) I won't depress you with the bad bits of my weekend - I'd prefer to ramble about the good bits instead.
The big news: I've finished making those blasted DVDs at last! After waging an epic war against my DVD burning software, ranging across three different computers, I finally nailed it down on a little old laptop and compelled it to do my will. So now I've got a nice neat row of finished RH DVDs sitting in a cardboard box by my desk and waiting to be put in the post.
I also decided that I was finished with my latest painting. It involved six different layers of colour (each allowed to dry before the next was applied), and although I actually put the last one down on Friday, I thought at the time there would be more to do. But on Saturday morning, I went back and looked at it again, and I said to myself "nope, that's enough. I'm going to call it a day." And then, for lack of a better title, that's exactly what I did.
#004: A Day
Yes, I do realise that I have committed a truly atrocious pun right there. My sincerest apologies to those of you with delicate linguistic sensibilities.
I also made more use of my new webcam. It's rapidly turning out to be better value for money than anything else I've ever bought (not difficult, considering how little I had to pay for it). Skype is much fun.
And I've done the illustrations for Fort Paradox Episodes 33 and 34, which feature a new experimental art style which I've never used for any other cartoon before. It involves biros, I'm quite pleased with how it's come out.
And now for something completely different (and altogether nerdier): on Saturday, I used Linux for the first time. My Grandad was asking if there was a free operating system he could use to recondition an ancient PC of his, so I made him a Ubuntu installer disc. But before handing it over, I thought I'd try it out myself in demo mode on our family laptop. It more or less worked, except that the laptop's optical disc drive is basically shot so it took ages to read the disc and load the software. It took me all of two minutes to find my way around the OS though, and I already like it almost as much as Windows, and much better than Mac OSX.
Since I've already got a perfectly good Windows installation on each of the machines I use regularly at the moment, I'll probably stick with dear old Microsoft for the time being. But I got a very good first impression of Ubuntu, so you never know - I might end up going the whole open-source hog someday!
My stats, for the next-to-last post of the 11 For 11 race...
- 11 For 11 status: 10 down, only 1 more to go... who will be the winner?
- Latest book read: *still* that commentary on Ephesians...
- Latest film/TV watched: haven't seen anything in a few days, and I've actually forgotten what the last one was...
- Latest music listened to: How to Train Your Dragon OST by John Powell (2010) currently on speakers
- Latest food/sweets/whatever eaten: crossaint and cowjuice for breakfast, unless you count the bit of jelly sweet I'm currently chewing on
- Programs and web pages currently running: Outlook 2007, Word 2007, Windows Explorer, Skype, Firefox (tabs: Blogspot Create Post; YouTube; Blogspot Dashboard)
- Webcomics posted today: Cylinder and Miserable #1130; Alien President #9
- The Colclough
Labels:
Computer,
Drawing,
First 11 for '11,
Fort Paradox,
Painting,
Root Hill,
Webcam
Thursday, 13 January 2011
Free Sample Time!
You know those little nanoscopic jars or packets of food or cosmetic products you get handed gratis sometimes, in an effort by the manufacturers to get you hooked and make you spend loads of money buying their stuff?
This is a little bit like that, except that I don't have any financial incentive whatsoever, and this particular free sample might addle your brains a bit: I've decided to share with you the newly-penned 12th chapter of a rather odd short story which I've been writing on and off since mid-November (provisionally entitled A Salesman Beneath), just because I feel like it.
I have no idea how much sense this might make to you reading it in isolation, and I'm equally unsure how much sense it might make even in the context of the previous 11 chapters, but here goes anyway...
*****
A few minutes later, Pone found himself being handed one end of a long length of flexible piping, whose other end was attached to the top of the stove. Meebrick and Nodroz each had one too.
“What’s this for?” he asked.
“To breathe,” said Nodroz, sounding terribly matter-of-fact.
“What, the stove’s exhaust fumes? Aren’t they usually poisonous?”
“It’s a connective stove,” Nodroz said, with a withering stare as if it should have been plain and obvious.
“Oh, I see: so they’re connective exhaust fumes!” Pone drawled. “But of course. That makes me feel so much better about gassing myself to death, if I can do it connectively.”
“Was that sarcasm?” asked Meebrick.
“Take an educated guess,” snapped Pone.
Nodroz gave them both an even witheringer glare, and stuck the end of his own pipe in his mouth. There followed several minutes of pointedly heavy breathing, as the old man sucked the stove fumes deep inside his system, clearly eager to demonstrate that it would have no ill effects. After the first few breaths, Meebrick chowed down on his pipe, and started tentatively puffing. Neither of them shrivelled up or went purple or turned into a guinea pig, so eventually Pone decided to risk it.
The result was terribly disappointing: the fumes smelled and tasted of absolutely nothing whatsoever. In fact, the gases coming off the stove were cool and fresh and impossibly clear, like what you would expect to be breathing on the top of a huge mountain in the middle of a vast unspoilt wilderness. Pone gave himself another headache on top of the one he already had, trying to work out how it was possible for exhaust fumes to smell so un-exhaust-like. But it didn’t last long, due to the healthful influence of the fumes.
“Are you yet satisfied with your breathing?” asked Nodroz.
Pone nodded very reluctantly, and clung to the railing for dear life as his host turned back to face the wall of bold red jelly overlapping the prow of the boat.
“Come then,” Nodroz mumbled through a mouthful of breathing tube, “Let us go henceforth into the core of Wobble!” He raised his arms in a dramatic gesture, and as if in response the inert front-left engine glimmered back into life. Then he intoned a loud and forceful “HUMNNN!” and flung his arms forwards to signal the intended direction of movement – and the Contradictorium slowly but surely started to push its way deeper into the gelatinous micro-planet.
“By the way,” Pone queried, “why does this asteroid or planet or whatever it is have such a dumb-sounding name?”
“It’s made of jelly, and jelly wobbles,” remarked Nodroz with his usual, irksome serenity, “so they called it ‘Wobble’.”
Pone groaned inwardly beneath the burdensome weight of this new knowledge.
“Bish ishho exhitig!” Meebrick giggled through his breathing tube. And as if that wasn’t undignified enough, he clapped his hands like a little child.
A moment later, Pone found the jelly approaching just inches from his nose.
“What is it with me and jelly lately?” Pone wondered. His hair was still full of blobs of goo from his recent encounter with the invertebrate shoal. But the blobs were soon lost to sight as they amalgamated into the greater mass of the micro-planet Wobble.
The stuff was more yielding than he might have expected, and once it had got itself on the move the Contradictorium seemed to have little trouble forging a path through it. The jelly flowed back into place behind the boat, leaving only a negligible wake of tiny bubbles to show where they had been. Pone became profoundly grateful for the stove hose.
The journey into Wobble seemed to go on for quite a long time, and there weren’t any landmarks on the inside. Pone started to despair of ever escaping. He attempted to distract his suffering brain with thoughts of financial outlays, profit margins, sales commissions and tax bands, and when that failed he turned his thoughts to his paternal aunt and her frankly terrifying collection of tea-cosies. She had thousands upon thousands of them, and was always after more. The surest way of making her happy was to give her another one, and the next surest was to give her a teapot to put inside one so she could display it properly.
Many centuries passed, and what with the lack of landmarks and the impossibly clear air he was breathing, Pone started to feel that he was drifting outside of the space-time continuum altogether. He started to doubt the existence of the outside world, and to wonder if maybe this surreal jelly was all there was, and all there ever had been.
Those centuries were actually two and three-quarter hours.
And then he was rudely pulled back to reality by the sound of Meebrick squealing a few feet away, muffled a bit (but nowhere near enough, Pone thought) by the surrounding semi-solid dessert.
“What’s wrong with the blighter now?” Pone asked himself.
He turned to look, and saw that Meebrick was pointing and staring straight ahead.
Ahead of the ship, deep inside the jelly, he could faintly see the outlines of some sort of transparent structure. There were rooms, and doorways, and what looked like stairs – and he even thought he could glimpse a pot plant or two.
Minutes later, the boat glooped its way out of the wall of a large room inside the jelly, and drifted to a stop in the middle of the floor.
The space was filled with all sorts of scientific equipment – microscopes, telescopes, orreries, burners, test tubes and flasks, rulers and tape measures and callipers, vices and tweezers, and books upon books upon books. It was hard to tell whether everything in the room really was made of copper and bronze, or if it just looked that way because of the red jelly which comprised the walls, floor and ceiling surrounding them. And Pone had been right – in another room at the top of a short, broad staircase, he could see a real, live pot plant. He wondered (with good reason) whether it had a funny name and whether it was going to be rude to him.
And in the middle of it all, not looking remotely pleased about having visitors, stood a very small girl in a long pink dressing gown, with a glowing magenta ponytail and a ferocious scowl. And a monocle, which didn’t really go with the rest of her look.
Meebrick gave an enthusiastic greeting, but sadly forgot to remove the breathing pipe from his mouth first, so it didn’t come out very well. He was glared at like something the cat dragged in. But being Meebrick the misnomer, he wasn’t much bothered by this and just kept on grinning and waving.
“GRANDMOTHER!” bellowed the little girl.
“I am so sorry to intrude,” began Nodroz the Third, “but might I take this opportunity to introduce…”
“GRANDMOTHER! I need you in here RIGHT NOW!”
There was one of those difficult silences.
And then a couple of minutes later, a tiny, hunched old lady oozed out of the ceiling and dropped onto the gelatinous floor just in front of the Contradictorium.
“How many times must I tell you, Grandmother – USE THE STAIRS!” shrieked the little girl.
“Sorry, dearie,” croaked Grandmother. “I did remember, but I’d already sunk my legs into the floor and it was too late.” She looked around, and realised how close she had been to impaling herself on the prow of the visiting boat. “Ooh, my word!” she chirped. “We’ve got some company!”
Meebrick grinned and waved again, and Grandmother waved back.
“I’ll go and put the kettle on,” she said.
“Thank you, Grandmother,” said the little girl.
Grandmother recovered her cane from where it had stuck in the jelly floor next to her, and wobbled off towards the kitchen.
The little girl glared at the intruders again.
“So who are you, and what are you doing in my laboratory?”
“I am Nodroz the Third,” began Nodroz the Third. Pone rolled his eyes again – he was getting tired of hearing him introduce himself. Nodroz pointed to the plant pot up front, “this is my faithful vegetable companion Yaseez, this…” he pointed at Pone, but then Pone decided to interrupt.
“My name is Pone Crustley,” announced Pone Crustley, “and if anyone tells you I’m called Woshling…” he paused for a second to give Nodroz a warning with one eyebrow, “… they’re telling you lies.”
“You look more like a Woshling to me,” announced the little girl. Pone slumped back against the stove and lost interest in the conversation, while she pointed at Meebrick and demanded to know who he was, and got the usual “it’s a real delight to see you!” greeting (thank goodness he’d taken his breathing tube out now).
“We are seeking to decipher the secrets of Wobble,” intoned Nodroz. “Humnnn.”
“Don’t you swear at me!” snapped the little girl.
“Basically,” chirruped Meebrick, “we don’t have a clue what we’re looking for, if anything, and we’re going for a road trip inside this jelly asteroid thing just for the fun of it. And then we spotted your place – can I just say, I absolutely love what you’ve done with the decor – so we thought we’d drop in and say hi!”
“I see… very well, then. Fortunately you haven’t collided with any of my extremely important scientific equipment. I am Professor-Emeritus Poppy Darlingsby,” announced the small girl. She adjusted her monocle and squinted at Meebrick. He gave a good-natured squint back.
“Um… what are you researching?” Pone asked, as he felt her gaze move over to him.
“Never mind that yet,” said the Professor.
Another very long silence.
This time, it was broken by the sound of shuffling feet and clinking chinaware.
“Here’s the tea!” chimed Grandmother from somewhere nearby.
“Excellent,” said the Professor. She started heading for the short staircase. “If you would all please follow me to the living room?”
*****
I don't plan on posting the whole story on my blog, but if you want to read more then I'm sure I could arrange to send you the back issues and keep you up to date with new chapters as and when they get written =]
(Random aside: for those who read Fort Paradox, we're still waiting for some questions for the new Weekly FAQ feature! Come on, ask questions, darn it!)
- The Colclough
This is a little bit like that, except that I don't have any financial incentive whatsoever, and this particular free sample might addle your brains a bit: I've decided to share with you the newly-penned 12th chapter of a rather odd short story which I've been writing on and off since mid-November (provisionally entitled A Salesman Beneath), just because I feel like it.
I have no idea how much sense this might make to you reading it in isolation, and I'm equally unsure how much sense it might make even in the context of the previous 11 chapters, but here goes anyway...
*****
A few minutes later, Pone found himself being handed one end of a long length of flexible piping, whose other end was attached to the top of the stove. Meebrick and Nodroz each had one too.
“What’s this for?” he asked.
“To breathe,” said Nodroz, sounding terribly matter-of-fact.
“What, the stove’s exhaust fumes? Aren’t they usually poisonous?”
“It’s a connective stove,” Nodroz said, with a withering stare as if it should have been plain and obvious.
“Oh, I see: so they’re connective exhaust fumes!” Pone drawled. “But of course. That makes me feel so much better about gassing myself to death, if I can do it connectively.”
“Was that sarcasm?” asked Meebrick.
“Take an educated guess,” snapped Pone.
Nodroz gave them both an even witheringer glare, and stuck the end of his own pipe in his mouth. There followed several minutes of pointedly heavy breathing, as the old man sucked the stove fumes deep inside his system, clearly eager to demonstrate that it would have no ill effects. After the first few breaths, Meebrick chowed down on his pipe, and started tentatively puffing. Neither of them shrivelled up or went purple or turned into a guinea pig, so eventually Pone decided to risk it.
The result was terribly disappointing: the fumes smelled and tasted of absolutely nothing whatsoever. In fact, the gases coming off the stove were cool and fresh and impossibly clear, like what you would expect to be breathing on the top of a huge mountain in the middle of a vast unspoilt wilderness. Pone gave himself another headache on top of the one he already had, trying to work out how it was possible for exhaust fumes to smell so un-exhaust-like. But it didn’t last long, due to the healthful influence of the fumes.
“Are you yet satisfied with your breathing?” asked Nodroz.
Pone nodded very reluctantly, and clung to the railing for dear life as his host turned back to face the wall of bold red jelly overlapping the prow of the boat.
“Come then,” Nodroz mumbled through a mouthful of breathing tube, “Let us go henceforth into the core of Wobble!” He raised his arms in a dramatic gesture, and as if in response the inert front-left engine glimmered back into life. Then he intoned a loud and forceful “HUMNNN!” and flung his arms forwards to signal the intended direction of movement – and the Contradictorium slowly but surely started to push its way deeper into the gelatinous micro-planet.
“By the way,” Pone queried, “why does this asteroid or planet or whatever it is have such a dumb-sounding name?”
“It’s made of jelly, and jelly wobbles,” remarked Nodroz with his usual, irksome serenity, “so they called it ‘Wobble’.”
Pone groaned inwardly beneath the burdensome weight of this new knowledge.
“Bish ishho exhitig!” Meebrick giggled through his breathing tube. And as if that wasn’t undignified enough, he clapped his hands like a little child.
A moment later, Pone found the jelly approaching just inches from his nose.
“What is it with me and jelly lately?” Pone wondered. His hair was still full of blobs of goo from his recent encounter with the invertebrate shoal. But the blobs were soon lost to sight as they amalgamated into the greater mass of the micro-planet Wobble.
The stuff was more yielding than he might have expected, and once it had got itself on the move the Contradictorium seemed to have little trouble forging a path through it. The jelly flowed back into place behind the boat, leaving only a negligible wake of tiny bubbles to show where they had been. Pone became profoundly grateful for the stove hose.
The journey into Wobble seemed to go on for quite a long time, and there weren’t any landmarks on the inside. Pone started to despair of ever escaping. He attempted to distract his suffering brain with thoughts of financial outlays, profit margins, sales commissions and tax bands, and when that failed he turned his thoughts to his paternal aunt and her frankly terrifying collection of tea-cosies. She had thousands upon thousands of them, and was always after more. The surest way of making her happy was to give her another one, and the next surest was to give her a teapot to put inside one so she could display it properly.
Many centuries passed, and what with the lack of landmarks and the impossibly clear air he was breathing, Pone started to feel that he was drifting outside of the space-time continuum altogether. He started to doubt the existence of the outside world, and to wonder if maybe this surreal jelly was all there was, and all there ever had been.
Those centuries were actually two and three-quarter hours.
And then he was rudely pulled back to reality by the sound of Meebrick squealing a few feet away, muffled a bit (but nowhere near enough, Pone thought) by the surrounding semi-solid dessert.
“What’s wrong with the blighter now?” Pone asked himself.
He turned to look, and saw that Meebrick was pointing and staring straight ahead.
Ahead of the ship, deep inside the jelly, he could faintly see the outlines of some sort of transparent structure. There were rooms, and doorways, and what looked like stairs – and he even thought he could glimpse a pot plant or two.
Minutes later, the boat glooped its way out of the wall of a large room inside the jelly, and drifted to a stop in the middle of the floor.
The space was filled with all sorts of scientific equipment – microscopes, telescopes, orreries, burners, test tubes and flasks, rulers and tape measures and callipers, vices and tweezers, and books upon books upon books. It was hard to tell whether everything in the room really was made of copper and bronze, or if it just looked that way because of the red jelly which comprised the walls, floor and ceiling surrounding them. And Pone had been right – in another room at the top of a short, broad staircase, he could see a real, live pot plant. He wondered (with good reason) whether it had a funny name and whether it was going to be rude to him.
And in the middle of it all, not looking remotely pleased about having visitors, stood a very small girl in a long pink dressing gown, with a glowing magenta ponytail and a ferocious scowl. And a monocle, which didn’t really go with the rest of her look.
Meebrick gave an enthusiastic greeting, but sadly forgot to remove the breathing pipe from his mouth first, so it didn’t come out very well. He was glared at like something the cat dragged in. But being Meebrick the misnomer, he wasn’t much bothered by this and just kept on grinning and waving.
“GRANDMOTHER!” bellowed the little girl.
“I am so sorry to intrude,” began Nodroz the Third, “but might I take this opportunity to introduce…”
“GRANDMOTHER! I need you in here RIGHT NOW!”
There was one of those difficult silences.
And then a couple of minutes later, a tiny, hunched old lady oozed out of the ceiling and dropped onto the gelatinous floor just in front of the Contradictorium.
“How many times must I tell you, Grandmother – USE THE STAIRS!” shrieked the little girl.
“Sorry, dearie,” croaked Grandmother. “I did remember, but I’d already sunk my legs into the floor and it was too late.” She looked around, and realised how close she had been to impaling herself on the prow of the visiting boat. “Ooh, my word!” she chirped. “We’ve got some company!”
Meebrick grinned and waved again, and Grandmother waved back.
“I’ll go and put the kettle on,” she said.
“Thank you, Grandmother,” said the little girl.
Grandmother recovered her cane from where it had stuck in the jelly floor next to her, and wobbled off towards the kitchen.
The little girl glared at the intruders again.
“So who are you, and what are you doing in my laboratory?”
“I am Nodroz the Third,” began Nodroz the Third. Pone rolled his eyes again – he was getting tired of hearing him introduce himself. Nodroz pointed to the plant pot up front, “this is my faithful vegetable companion Yaseez, this…” he pointed at Pone, but then Pone decided to interrupt.
“My name is Pone Crustley,” announced Pone Crustley, “and if anyone tells you I’m called Woshling…” he paused for a second to give Nodroz a warning with one eyebrow, “… they’re telling you lies.”
“You look more like a Woshling to me,” announced the little girl. Pone slumped back against the stove and lost interest in the conversation, while she pointed at Meebrick and demanded to know who he was, and got the usual “it’s a real delight to see you!” greeting (thank goodness he’d taken his breathing tube out now).
“We are seeking to decipher the secrets of Wobble,” intoned Nodroz. “Humnnn.”
“Don’t you swear at me!” snapped the little girl.
“Basically,” chirruped Meebrick, “we don’t have a clue what we’re looking for, if anything, and we’re going for a road trip inside this jelly asteroid thing just for the fun of it. And then we spotted your place – can I just say, I absolutely love what you’ve done with the decor – so we thought we’d drop in and say hi!”
“I see… very well, then. Fortunately you haven’t collided with any of my extremely important scientific equipment. I am Professor-Emeritus Poppy Darlingsby,” announced the small girl. She adjusted her monocle and squinted at Meebrick. He gave a good-natured squint back.
“Um… what are you researching?” Pone asked, as he felt her gaze move over to him.
“Never mind that yet,” said the Professor.
Another very long silence.
This time, it was broken by the sound of shuffling feet and clinking chinaware.
“Here’s the tea!” chimed Grandmother from somewhere nearby.
“Excellent,” said the Professor. She started heading for the short staircase. “If you would all please follow me to the living room?”
*****
I don't plan on posting the whole story on my blog, but if you want to read more then I'm sure I could arrange to send you the back issues and keep you up to date with new chapters as and when they get written =]
(Random aside: for those who read Fort Paradox, we're still waiting for some questions for the new Weekly FAQ feature! Come on, ask questions, darn it!)
- 11 For 11 status: 9 down, 2 to go - I reclaim the lead in the race again! Won't be surprised if this is the last time I'm ahead...
- Latest book read: no change since the last post
- Latest film/TV watched: How Do They Do It?
- Latest music listened to: no change since the last post
- Latest food/sweets/whatever eaten: lunch = chicken sandwich, crisps and half an orange
- Programs and web pages currently running: Outlook 2007, Word 2007, Windows Explorer, Skype, Firefox (tabs: MatNav; Blogspot Create Post; Blogspot Dashboard; my last post)
- Webcomics posted today: no change since the last post
- The Colclough
Labels:
A Salesman Beneath,
First 11 for '11,
Fort Paradox,
Weirdness,
Writing
From Yesterday
Yesterday (Wednesday 12 January 2011), I did something I hadn't done for about six-and-a-half years: I went for a repeat viewing of a film at the cinema. There had previously been exactly four films I saw on the big screen twice each: the Lord of the Rings trilogy, and Shrek 2. As of yesterday, this exclusive list has expanded to include Chronicles of Narnia: The Voyage of the Dawn Treader.
As so often happens with films based on books, I spent a lot of the first screening worrying about how much it had changed from the source novel. That, and being distracted by popcorn management issues. This time round, it was more a case of sitting back and enjoying the ride. I suspect the projector might have been ever-so-slightly better focussed this time as well - or my glasses were cleaner. The rest of the family all seem to be in agreement that Dawn Treader is better than its immediate predecessor Prince Caspian, but I'm not so sure - not that I think VotDT has gone downhill, more that I didn't dislike Caspian as much as a lot of other people seemed to do. Both have their flaws, but both did pretty well on the whole, IMHO.
Also while in town, I acquired a webcam. I went into WHSmiths with £40's worth of gift cards to use, and after pootling around the whole place two or three times I decided that the webcam for £39.99 seemed like the best option. The book section was mostly full of GCSE revision guides (I've got a first-class BSc, so those were a bit beneath my level), travel handbooks (I have no travelling ambitions), and vampire novels (I avoid vampire novels on principle, and I fail to see why so many other people are rabidly obsessed with the blighted things). So webcam it was - and according to the price marked on the shelf, it would conveniently use up both gift cards.
Then I got to the till, and the computer only wanted to charge me £8.74. So I've still got over thirty quid's worth of Smiths vouchers to use, and no idea what to use them on - you can only have so many pens in your collection before it starts getting a bit silly - but then again, a new webcam for less than nine quid isn't to be sneezed at.
Which leads me to Skype. Yes, guilty... after all my ramblings about how much I dislike social networks and will refuse to join any, blah blah blah, you might think I've gone and betrayed the cause by having got a Skype account. But I don't think it counts, really. After all, it's not about posting banal, vapid nothings to be read by the public en masse (I'm looking at you, Facebook), it's about one-to-one realtime conversations - with added video-ness so you can see who you're talking to.
And finally, talking of seeing stuff, here's a photo of my latest acrylic painting, completed yesterday afternoon:
The idea is very simple: a blissfully happy hamster sitting on his own little planet made of solid cheese and supporting an ecosystem of broccoli. It's got a bit of a The Little Prince vibe going on - I read the book once, years and years ago, and even though I've long since forgotten most of it, this bizarre image has stuck in the back of my mind ever since.
I've now started work on another, abstract painting. Photo to follow in due course.
As for today... I've got a 'do' list as long as your arm, and writing this post is just one of many, many things to get done. So I'll wrap up now and get on with some of the others.
- The Colclough
As so often happens with films based on books, I spent a lot of the first screening worrying about how much it had changed from the source novel. That, and being distracted by popcorn management issues. This time round, it was more a case of sitting back and enjoying the ride. I suspect the projector might have been ever-so-slightly better focussed this time as well - or my glasses were cleaner. The rest of the family all seem to be in agreement that Dawn Treader is better than its immediate predecessor Prince Caspian, but I'm not so sure - not that I think VotDT has gone downhill, more that I didn't dislike Caspian as much as a lot of other people seemed to do. Both have their flaws, but both did pretty well on the whole, IMHO.
Also while in town, I acquired a webcam. I went into WHSmiths with £40's worth of gift cards to use, and after pootling around the whole place two or three times I decided that the webcam for £39.99 seemed like the best option. The book section was mostly full of GCSE revision guides (I've got a first-class BSc, so those were a bit beneath my level), travel handbooks (I have no travelling ambitions), and vampire novels (I avoid vampire novels on principle, and I fail to see why so many other people are rabidly obsessed with the blighted things). So webcam it was - and according to the price marked on the shelf, it would conveniently use up both gift cards.
Then I got to the till, and the computer only wanted to charge me £8.74. So I've still got over thirty quid's worth of Smiths vouchers to use, and no idea what to use them on - you can only have so many pens in your collection before it starts getting a bit silly - but then again, a new webcam for less than nine quid isn't to be sneezed at.
Which leads me to Skype. Yes, guilty... after all my ramblings about how much I dislike social networks and will refuse to join any, blah blah blah, you might think I've gone and betrayed the cause by having got a Skype account. But I don't think it counts, really. After all, it's not about posting banal, vapid nothings to be read by the public en masse (I'm looking at you, Facebook), it's about one-to-one realtime conversations - with added video-ness so you can see who you're talking to.
And finally, talking of seeing stuff, here's a photo of my latest acrylic painting, completed yesterday afternoon:
#003: Hamster Hamster
The idea is very simple: a blissfully happy hamster sitting on his own little planet made of solid cheese and supporting an ecosystem of broccoli. It's got a bit of a The Little Prince vibe going on - I read the book once, years and years ago, and even though I've long since forgotten most of it, this bizarre image has stuck in the back of my mind ever since.
I've now started work on another, abstract painting. Photo to follow in due course.
As for today... I've got a 'do' list as long as your arm, and writing this post is just one of many, many things to get done. So I'll wrap up now and get on with some of the others.
- 11 For 11 status: 8 down, 3 to go
- Latest book read: still Stuart Olyott's commentary on Ephesians
- Latest film/TV watched: Chronicles of Narnia: The Voyage of the Dawn Treader
- Latest music listened to: Cylinder and Miserable: Official Webcomic Soundtrack (WIP), written by Timothy Johnston with some interference from yours truly
- Latest food/sweets/whatever eaten: bagel and cowjuice for breakfast
- Programs and web pages currently running: Outlook 2007, Windows Explorer, Skype, Firefox (tabs: Blogspot Dashboard; Blogspot Create Post; MatNav x2)
- Webcomics posted today: Cylinder and Miserable #1127; Alien President #8
- The Colclough
Labels:
Cinema,
First 11 for '11,
Hamster,
Painting,
Webcam
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