Not Mellow Bird's

Yes Mellow Bird's, it's for people who like the idea of coffee but don't actually like coffee, not that I advocate that all samplings of that beverage should be succeeded by the sensation of ants crawling inside your skull for the next five hours, like the cappuccino in my local cafe, but it takes the concept of mellow to a ridiculous level. At one time Joanna Lumley graced the TV ads, as they were trying to lift the brand from its rather sedate customer base, that consisted largely of your granny and her mates at the jam making circle. The ads that established the brand featured Kenneth Moore, whose on screen chemistry was still potent enough to entice his ageing female fan base into the fold. Moore was an interesting screen personality, he's kind of like the British version of Marlon Brando, by that I mean they were both singularly undemonstrative but strangely effective actors. Brando would portray tension and repressed aggression, Moore would represent attributes associated more with a British stereotype, the stiff upper lip and those wounds that don't show on the surface but cut deep in the flesh of the character.

So it's with a certain fondness I remember one of his later outings on the small screen, An Englishman's Castle, written by Philip Mackie. These days it would be called a mini series but I think the term had little coin back then. First shown in 1978 or possibly 79, two - er interesting years if lived in Britain at the time, an Englishman's Castle is one of those alternative history stories ie, what if the Germans won the war. Mackie's take on this topic concerns a TV dramatist, the writer of a historical soap opera -- that concerns itself with the German invasion of Britain. The script is pretty damned clever and Mackie doesn't shy away from the odd stylisation and use of artistic licence to tell his story and it's a bloody good story too, that I recall resonated sharply with the audience. In fact I'm pretty certain that a British comic writer of renown cribbed more than a few ideas from it when he came to publish his own depiction of a dystopian Britain a few years later.

Unfortuantly there's some very bad news concerning An Englishman's Castle, see it was produced by the BBC and their custodianship of Britain's TV legacy is somewhat wanting, so it's no surprise to learn that the master has been long since been whipped. There is whoever some good news, looks like some naughty bod taped a monitor feed and if you can ignore the synchronous time stamp in the upper corner, some other naughty bod has made it available on Youtube, give it a go, it comes highly recommended from DeadSpiderEye.

Banzai, me dearies

Carrot crunchers, I think is the polite term for folk who inhabit Gloucestershire, although there is a more colourful term, pertaining to sheep that sometime gets applied in that context but lets not explore that further here. Notable fact concerning the county, is that it was home to a couple of Britain's foremost aviation concerns, The Bristol Aeroplane company and The Gloster Aircraft Company. Amongst Gloster's notable contributions to British aviation, is the development of Britain's first gas turbine powered aircraft, including the first British production jet fighter, the Gloster Meteor. They also had a contender in the bidding for the RAF's wartime fighter, although development of the project seems to have been slow in comparison to its illustrious rivals for that role. The Gloster project took a rather different approach, developed under the RAF's F 5/34 Specification for an air interceptor/fighter, it was a considerably lighter aircraft than its rivals, something that would have made it ideal for marine applications. This comparatively low weight achieved mainly through the then novel application of an aluminium wing spar, both the Spitfire and Hurricane utilised more conventional steel members.

The project never really fulfilled its potential though, there is certain amount of speculation as to why that should be: the rivalry between the RAF and the RN, could've meant that its suitability as carrier borne fighter, hindered its chances. It's generally believed though that support in the Air Ministry was gathering around the Rolls Royce Merlin and those aircraft designed to fulfil the specification conceived to utilise that engine. So it never made it beyond a few prototypes that flew just before the war, too late to beat the Hurricane into production, as far as it's known the project never even acquired a unique name and the aircraft is ubiquitously known by it's RAF specification number ie. the Gloster F 5/34

Gloster F 5/34

Meanwhile across the other side of the world, something rather odd happened, the Japanese Navy issued a specification for a carrier borne fighter that was considered impossible to fulfil by at least one major manufacture who pulled out of the running. The guy at Mitsubishi, Mr. Jiro Horikoshi, wasn't so faint hearted though, with a we can do that attitude he came with the now famous Mitsubishi A6M, commonly known as the Zero.

Mitsubishi A6M Zero

Looks kind of familiar doesn't it? and it's a familiarity that has been noted on more than one occasion. The absence of the turtle deck and the staggered configuration of the tail plain being obvious similarities. It doesn't end there though, guess what its wing spar is made of? that's right, aluminium again. There's a lot of huffing and puffing over this similarity, I'm pretty convinced there's good circumstantial evidence to suggest that the similarity is more than just coincidence. but it would be a mistake to conclude that the Zero was derivative design, there was a heck of lot of transfer of design and technology between nations before and during the war. Most radial engines can be traced back as derivatives of the Gnome Radial, the cooling systems on the Daimler Benz engines were derived from the Roll Royce Kestrel, likewise the fan installation of the Hawker Sea Fury was copied directly from the FW 190, only an idiot wouldn't copy something that worked. The Zero was even lighter that the F 5/34, the airframe being constructed from an aluminium alloy only the Japanese had access to, known as T-7178.

As I mentioned, I'm personally pretty sure there was some kind of transfer on the design and it probably wasn't just one way either, Gloster was a the British company with quite bit of presence in Japan. It would be interesting to really have the resources and dig into this story and not just mull over suspicions and speculation.

Esther's grin

Way back in the 70's and probably some distance into the 80's too there was this evening BBC television show, I think it was a Sunday evening thing but I'm not sure, it could've been Friday. That's Life it was called, a magazine show hosted by various inconspicuous male presenters but chiefly by Esther Rantzen and interspersed with skits and whimsical items, like dogs that could speak and hilarious clippings from the classifieds of local newspapers. In fact my local rag would feature regularly, the proprietor of a local second hand car dealer had a habit of including a candid description of one of his less desirable offerings. I think we would call 'em basket cases these days, honesty, it seems, is sufficiently amusing to warrant inclusion in such a context.

It wasn't all fun and games though, not by a long shot, the show was concerned itself rather earnestly with the malfeasance and shady practises of the commercial world: misleading adverts in the Sundays that promised a silver tea service for £5, dodgy bucket shops that ripped off unwary travellers, that kind of thing. Rooting out perfidy in the cause of the consumer, seems a great idea until you realise that the unforgiving nature of television scheduling demands that suitable candidates be offered up for the tumbrel according to a strict time table, which is where Esther, her show and I crossed paths, albeit indirectly.

I didn't watch the show myself, I'd given up watching most weekend telly by that time but I did form a picture of the kind article it was, that concerned itself with the issue in question, through vicarious means. Some clipping from the classifieds in London's Evening News probably and maybe a few interviews with disgruntled members of the public, who'd been, ripped off by unscrupulous traders. I learnt about this particular scandal as I sounded out a prospective venture with some associates, we were about to make a pick up as we embarked on a trip to London. Tea chests from the factory just outside town, unfortuantly when we arrived to make the pick up, we found the asking price for the merchandise had risen by 500%. You've guessed it, Esther had concerned herself with the shocking price asked for tea chests in London's classifieds. Unfortuantly the practical upshot was that although we did manage to offload this consignment at an inflated price, it barely covered the cost of the diesel and it certainly wasn't worth making a trip for it. It also put the kybosh on the business venture, without the profit from the tea chests to mitigate the risks it wasn't worth taking on. I'm not sure what they did with the tea chests at the factory after that, I think they burnt them in the boiler room. It was an interesting lesson in the power of the media, I spoke to a number of people who'd seen the item on tea chests and they were all, without exception, absolutely convinced that the price of tea chests was a criminal disgrace. The realities of costs like transport and mark ups levied by middle men, seemed to completely escape them. I wonder if those people in London moving house, who had fork out for crates or the ludicrous prices charged for corrugated card gave much thought to those realities afterwards?

I am legend

Back in the old days there were three countries which presented problems over issues of intellectual property these were, in no particular order: The Soviet Union, West Germany and the United States. The reasons for the difficulties presented by the Soviet Union are obvious, they didn't recognise any copyright or patents, Germany and the US presented rather more subtle and complex problems, Germany because she was out of step with the rest of the world insisting on an extra twenty years of copyright protection, the problem with the US was even more difficult though. They had and probably still do have, a habit of granting property rights to native interests, i.e. corporate entities and private individuals, that they properly had no rights to. The main instance I cite of this practice involves a song that people of my age will recall with a certain discomfort, that song being: The Okey Cokey. Scarcely a wedding or any family event from earlier years passed by without descending a into demonstrably rumbustious rendition of this song, which came with  actions all participants were expected to perform. Which was okay until I was about nine, at which age, engaging in such antics with your aunty Vi become the focus of some embarrassment when your focus of attention at such events is getting a dance with your elder cousin's girlfriend Mary. Hang on a second -- Mary ahhh, flaxen haired Irish girl with big, soft -- eyes. Anyway I digress, the point is some Herbert in the US decided to claim authorship of this song after he'd heard it here, it being unknown in the US at the time. Thing is, they granted it to him and he actually earned royalties from it by the simple expedient of changing the chorus from Okey Cokey to Okey Pokey -- unbelievable!

Anyway I've wandered a bit because there's another aspect of US copyright practice that needs addressing and that is their requirement that Films need to be catalogued with a copyright registry, something which incurs a not insubstantial fee. So not insubstantial, that it's common practice to let this registration slip when a film becomes unprofitable or in some instances not to bother with registration at all. When this happens, such films are considered to be in the public domain within US federal Jurisdiction, this is what I believe to be the case with the first adaptation of Richard Matheson's seminal novel, I am Legend. Called, The Last man on Earth and starring Vincent Price, it's a cheap Italian production, filmed entirely it seems without synchronised sound, common practice in a cinematic tradition that sees most of it's work dubbed in to other languages. There is one other striking clue to its origin outside the US, a shot that included a row parked cars, all of 'em Fiat 500's.

I always hesitate to recommend the novel because it's not everyone's cup of tea and that's especially true if you're not familiar with the pulp idiom but it has one of most choke inducing endings of any story. It's an ending that prompted me to immediately re-read the book because it casts the narrative in a completely different light. Of course, I am Legend was remade as the cult classic, The Omega Man with Charlton Heston and once again with the, not so classic, film starring Wil Smith in the lead role. While I do love the Omega man, The last man on Earth is much closer to the novel, it still doesn't quite do justice to the ending though. Still here it is, courtesy of the curious copyright practices of the US, that deem (I believe) this film to be in the public domain, at least in that country, which in practical terms means everywhere there's an internet connection. This particular version has been colourised, quite effectively I have to say and I it think works to enhance the film in this case.

watch

FIREBALL!

Do you recognise this person?

Here's an interesting find, this little chap is on the run from Germans, thankfully by the time this snap was taken, he'd arrived in Canada. Amongst things awaiting him in his future is a notable if mercurial career in television, where he featured in such iconic shows as UFO. He's probably best known now, for his contribution to Patrick McGoohan's cult vehicle, The Prisoner, where he featured prominently in the episodes: Living in Harmony and Fallout. Those with long memories though, will remember him from the Z Cars spin off, Softly Softly. Have you guessed who is it is yet?

Alexis Kanner

Show don't tell

Show don't tell, how many times have you heard that axiom? If you're a fan of cinema you probably relate it to the mistaken notion that it refers to rendering scenes on the screen rather describing them in dialogue, "Look, the tidal wave is about to engulf the city! Gosh I wonder how much that would cost to recreate with special effects?".  No it has a rather more profound bearing on narrative technique than that and it involves two very old concepts, so old in fact that they pre-date concerns over special effects budgets by a couple of millennia, These would be: diegesis and mimesis, unfortuantly there's nothing like impressive sounding Greek or Latin  vocabulary to spawn misapplication of terms, borne from their association with a particular context. Diegetic sound, may be a term applied as short hand in cinematic jargon but it's rather inaccurate and somewhat ironic considering its true meaning. A diegenic approach to narrative can be summarised as the: once upon a time approach, it's relaying a narrative through the means of recounting events, "Jack and Jill ran up the hill to fetch a pale of water..." that kind of thing. mimesis is relaying a narrative through mimicking the events of that narrative, acting them out, like in a play or film. The obvious implication is that mimesis is exclusive to dramatic forms and diegesis likewise to literal forms, yeah, obvious but mistaken again.

Mimesis is essential to contemporary narrative forms including literature, I commonly identify it as being manifest on two levels, the first regards how certain events are relayed, consider the two examples below.

Jake pulled out his 45 automatic and fired two shots, Emile fell to the floor like a sack of spuds

Jake's heart pounded so fiercely, he could feel his pulse throbbing as he clasped the handle of his 45 automatic. The impulse of the recoil from his two shots jolted the frame of his weapon violently and he felt the knurled handle rasp the heel of his palm as the noise of his shots sang in his head. He heard a stifled mew and then a crump, as if a sack spuds had fallen from shoulder height, when the smoke cleared he saw Emile's body laying motionless on the floor.

The first example is self explanatory but I think we can see it falls into the, once upon a time technique of relaying events. The second one doesn't describe the events as explicitly, events are implied rather than recounted but it includes more detail in an effort to evoke an image inside a reader's head, in other words to mimic that scene in the reader's imagination, mimesis!

The second form that mimesis manifests itself in narrative, is way that a the broader elements of narrative, that is: plot, unfold or the method used to reveal them to a reader or audience. This is where, show don't tell comes in. If you have a character that undergoes some change, be it a positive epiphany or some negative metamorphosis of a virtuous person into a malicious one, you don't leave it with someone uttering: "Oh yeah, Darth used to be a nice guy then he fell into a volcano".  No what you do is, you show that story, because as human beings, what we're told means almost nothing, what we learn means everything.

Right, is that clear? probably not I imagine, so I'm going to include a clip from a rather excellent animated tv show that epitomises this concept rather succinctly, not least because, show don't tell is its central theme. Or rather link to that clip because it's one where embedding has been disabled.

watch

Not quite fireball

When this is finished I'll put it up, there's not much left to do, except for making a decent background a few odds on the hull. I started it because I wanted an illustration for a fireball xl5 inspired piece of fiction. Had a look round to see if could find any mesh files, which I did but although it was okish, I wasn't happy, so I had a go myself. It's quite hard work working from the photos, and you notice some inconstancies in the models when you examine them. For that reason I decided to go for a Mike Noble look, slightly simplifying the outriggers and some other details.

Update

Haven't done much to the model but I did change the lighting, which has done quite a bit to enhance the image. I put a blue reverse highlight in, now that is very Mike Noble. Of course he's not the only artist that was fond of that technique, it's quite standard practice in comics, it's generally used to delineate elements in a scene. I've even seen it used by Ford Maddox Brown in one or two of his paintings and of course some cinematographers used the blue lights to fill in shadow on night scenes, The Professionals, a western with Lee Marvin has some particularly nice examples. Here it would be more effective slightly lighter, against a darker background but I'd also need to monkey with the shadow colour too, to keep the outrigger from disappearing while trying not to lose the terminator effect on the curved surface of the hull.

Update

Created my own background and while it looked great while I was doing it, it hasn't translated too well in context. Some detail is too clearly delineated an it needs some broader tonal movement like in the version above, which would prevent the shadows from making the outline disappear.

Stan Lee reads, The Raven

Now this is interesting, even if the post production visuals are a little distracting. There's another version of this flick where Mr. Lee explains he'd learnt the poem in his younger days, which explains why he starts off so well. Later on he resorts to his print out but it's interesting to note how quickly he scans it, even if he does stray from the text on a few occasions. OK he's not a polished orator but there's a certain inflection that evokes some emotional colour that often lacking by more professional renditions.

Submissions 2nd December 2013

Bugger! D'ya remember The Great Escape, I wonder if the BBC will relent and give it a Xmas airing this year? My favourite part is Steve McQueen's bid for freedom on a stolen German motorcycle that conveniently changes from a wartime BMW lump, into a nimble 500cc Triumph when stunt antics are called for, ah the magic of cinema. Unfortuantly Stevie didn't even get past the perimeter goons this time, being waylayed on the first read. Hilts is the character's name if you're trying to recall, he's the one every school kid identifies with, even though if we were honest, we've actually got more in common with the hapless Flying Officer Ives, who was played by the same actor who portrayed the interloper Shuey McPhee, he who deposed Mr. Lovejoy as head chef at The Crossroads Motel.

I think I might've emulated Ives's doomed assault on the barbed wire in full view of the guard, I submitted something I knew had no real chance but I thought its brevity might get it front of an editor's peepers, no such luck. It wasn't a completely fruitless experience, this was my first go with this outlet, an on-line sf journal, and it's been a while since I've done anything like this. They had a pretty organised submission process, probably the best I've encountered and they were very prompt with the rejection. No clues on the reaction to the story, unless you read something  into the inclusion of a link to the submission guidelines. On a positive note, there was no instruction to delay further submissions, although that could simply be because they've closed that process until the new year.

I've crossed 'em off my list of prospects for moment because although I did do some research into what they were publishing, I was relying on older material. All the new stuff has moved into The Chintz Light Zone,  my nick name for Mills & Boon dressed up as sf. Not that I don't appreciate romantic fiction or even produce it occasionally it's just that this particular genre drift caught me out, I think that's a forgiveable error, who'd expect the intergalactic robot crew to turn to things like: "...my heart raced as I found he was kissing me..."?

Poe, Rathbone, The Bells

Go straight to awesome, do not pass go, do not collect countless acquired expectations: That's the card Edgar Allan Poe drew from the community chest when he sat down to Literary Monopoly. Poe's talents were exercised during a time when his native literary establishment was exhibiting a stifling and torpid parochial self satisfaction (ring a bell, anyone?). So he decided to distance himself from it and focus his attention on the popular press, pretty much as Dickens did in London except that the Dickens was working in a much less clearly delineated literary environment.

I suppose you've heard of The Raven? Poe's most celebrated work of poetic verse, a work that is reviled in equal measure to that celebration. I assume I've left little doubt on which side of the fence of that divide I'm planted on. The Raven is quite a difficult piece to do justice to, I occasionally wonder how many fans of Poe, spend countless frustrating hours reciting it. Difficult as it is, there's one that's much harder, Poe's The Bells probably exemplifies Poe's preoccupation with iteration and refrain, some aspects that make it so challenging. I suppose it's this kind of demand that Poe fearlessly throws down the gauntlet for, that is one of the things make him so special. It's not that the average reader can't make a passable attempt at it, it doesn't have The Raven's vicarious intricacies, it's just the disparity between that on the page, and that which comes out of you mouth represents a gaping chasm. Fortunately the talents of one particular orator of renown were exercised on this verse and committed to vinyl quite a while ago. I'm referring to Basil Rathbone, who's readings of Poe's work are probably the best available, according to my estimation. Even more fortunately some kind person has uploaded a Youtube flick of that recording.

Submissions

If you're a jotter of meagre accomplishment like me, you'll be familiar with the soul crushing experience of submissions. Unfortuantly when you're the only one with the insight to recognise you're a gifted creative genius, the process tends to be something you find yourself avoiding with increasing consistency. One of the problems for me is the wide variation in submission guidelines circulated by prospective publishers, being somewhat disorganised, it's something of a problem to keep the drafts in their pigeon holes. This time I got round the problem by submitting to a publisher who wouldn't except simultaneous submissions, which is something you want to avoid really since turnaround times seem to draw out forever. At least this publisher promises a prompt rejection notice, which is something that mitigates that problem, most of 'em don't even bother with that.

One thing I can say though, is that at least writers don't have put up with quite the same anguish as illustrators. There's something about the visual arts that draws out the very worst of things like professional envy and petty sniping and that's main reason I kicked that world into the bin, I just couldn't hack the aerosols that permeate the air, so to speak. This latest effort is going to fail, I'm sure of that but it's like buying lottery tickets. You know there's no realistic chance of success but there's just a moment, maybe less than a second, when you're assurance that you'll win is absolute and that's the best feeling in the world, a feeling that, when confident your fortitude can sustain you, you'll bare the soul crushing gladly for.

Another angel

Goodbye Symphony (sniff), go and make someone an expensive Xmas present

You remember those Airfix kits you never got to round to making up when you where a kid? Well after a certain amount of digging, I found the one I could never bring myself to sully with blobby polystyrene cement streaks and runny paint. Alas more mundane considerations preoccupy me these days, like eating and funding hot water, so it's goodbye to, Symphony, Destiny or maybe even that mysterious Harmony, go and make one of the last minute bidding runs that always manage to rob me of that bargain.

Come to think of it, wasn't Rhapsody, the redhead?

Update:
No bidders oh well, don't mind Rhapsody, with you by my side that tin of spam will seem like ambrosia served amid the scented environs of Mt. Olympus.

Plenty more fish...

Notes
Grey Mullet: One of a number of related species whose reputation as a poor table fish is so legendary, its flesh is commonly considered to be inedible by anyone not on the brink of starvation.

Flounder: In English parlance, a flat fish whose resemblance to Plaice is occasionally the subject of consternation to those who discover their error, when they find the repast they anticipated with such relish tastes of mud. One of a number of species sold under the label Lemon Sole by undiscriminating fish mongers.

Shad: A migratory fish.

Plenty more fish...

Plenty more fish in the sea to be had
Were the words borne from the mouth of my dad
If fate frustrate your ardent endeavour
It turns out apt to compare a favour
It's apt it seems to compare the favour
Afforded by a grim fourteen stone beast
To that of an estuarine Mullet feast

Plenty more fish in the sea to be had
Were the words borne from the mouth of my dad
If fate frustrate your ardent endeavour
It turns out to be apt to compare the
Comfort offered by some grim mare or beast
Comfort afforded through some obese beast
Comfort offered by some Medusaesque beast
To that got through estuarine Mullet feast

Plenty more fish in the sea to be had
Plenty more fish in the sea
Plenty more fish in the sea said my dad
That's the ticket my lad


That Ire that crawls through your soul like an eel
The remorse in your mind you'd rather not feel
When you have cause to revisit the scene
Of the delight and the senses serene
that you felt when you finally found her
Only to find yourself chewing a Flounder


Plenty more fish in the sea to be had
Plenty more fish in the sea
Plenty more fish in the sea said my dad
Smile she'll grab your gonad


When solitude burns and failures accrue
That Girl on the bus or school friend you knew
Then comes the time that you probably should
Ask would it not be likely you could
Dig for the strength to renew your pursuit
When she confesses she might be hirsute


Plenty more fish in the sea to be had
Plenty more fish in the sea
Plenty more fish in the sea said my dad
Say it once more I'll go mad


It's odd to admire a girl for her fins
I find I now look for scales on their shins
I should dream of a Marylin Monroe
But no I find that it's Cod and their roe
Amphibians next, newt toad and a frog
Can you drop this Ichthyian analogue?


Plenty more fish in the sea to be had
Plenty more fish in the sea
Plenty more fish in the sea said my dad
Mmm, wouldn't say no to a Shad.

Interesting find for Captain Scarlet fans

I had thought of knocking up a couple of 3d models from the Gerry Anderson puppet series. A quick inspection through the search pages thrown out by search engines threw up some quite interesting material. One was an illustrator's blog that I've since subscribed to and another is this rather good looking paper model of an Angel Interceptor that I though might be of interest.



If you're interested in having a go at this model it's available free for download on the creators web site, here. Thanks to Garry Pilsworth for granting permission to feature his excellent model here.

To kill a pig

Oh dear this is unfortunate, challenged to write a verse around a title, I came out with this. It's unfortunate because I'm late for supper and I've only got bacon in the fridge.


To kill a pig, practice is to let blood
Or smite head with hammer, take careful aim
With a single blow it should pith the brain
Be swift and they wont even hear that thud
Mmm that succulent tender flesh so beloved
By epicure who might move to disdain
Some lesser creature you killed in vain
Though not a cow relieved from chewing cud
In scalding brine steeped to depiliate
And filed in row upon a sharp hook hung
Run through their heels as they desanguinate
While restless iron blades eviscerate
Clear trunks of offal, heads of lolling tongue
It's meat the public does appreciate

The Ghost Story

Mother had a dreadful fear of mice and rats, it was one of those things that as a youngster I could never fully comprehend, like her similar but less acute fearful reaction to the noises of bonfire night. I never shivered in an air raid, otherwise I might had more sympathy when she'd cower on the 5th of November. It took me longer to empathise with her fear of rodents, mother was a robust and muscular woman whose fear of those creatures seemed incongruous but whenever she'd encounter them her audible protests would make anyone believe her the epitome of a shrieking hysterical female stereotype.

Well one day, she explained the fear to me, it was something that made me shudder. "They're an omen," she said but not in so many words. She went on to explain about the death of her mother, she was living in London at the time, one night she'd dreamt of a rat. It sounded as if she was suffering from night terrors from her recollection of the experience, she couldn't tell if was real or not. The next morning she had telegram telling her of her mothers passing.

"Just a coincidence," I said.

"Yes but it had happened before" this aroused my curiosity so I asked when? she spoke of the night before her sister, my auntie Nora, died, the same thing happened. Something that was easy to dismiss as another coincidence, then she recollected a third incident that occurred when she'd travelled home to Ebbw Vale for her mother's funeral. There was a rat in the room and it jumped on the bed or so she thought, it could've been another dream, a little later she got the word that her first husband was missing presumed killed.

"I've seen loads of mice and rats, nobody died" she looked at me with the world weary resignation that is spawned when confronted with implacable scepticism.

"It's different for me," she said then she showed me, "Look at this" I saw the birth mark on her thigh, I couldn't make it out at first, it had obviously faded with age but as examined it closer, I saw the the unmistakable outline of a rat etched onto her living flesh.

The Mice

About this: Inspired by one of my favourite episodes of The Outer Limits, The Mice, watch if you can find it, it's spectacular. It's a bit iffy, might pay some attention to this one after it's stewed a while on the back burner

Update: Well I did tinker with it, took about 5 minutes (just goes to show what a little distance can do) still not quite there I think but this one needs simmer a bit.

Do you see mice in un-penitent line?
Head bowed not in obeisance but fear
Men without need and no weakness for tear
Neither remorse when our purpose is crime
Souls as hard as a hide slaked in lime
Yet still hearts stir as the fair one draws near
She harbours a light for those who adhere
She harbours light, lit for they that adhere
To the tally that is tendered in time
Of all that be here, alone she chose sight
Does see a man not a beggar nor thief
To see a man not a beggar nor thief
Do his legs still have the strength for that mile?
Slight limbs retain enough vigour for fight?
For this woman that lent birth to belief
That life can once more be home to a smile
Can he dare risk to lend birth to belief?
That in this world there is room for his smile

nursed his belief life to belief death to belief stile will their be a time to tender a smile will his belly hold back that no more bile hold enough bile There can be an end to this life of bile that fight not might The one he must run to capture that smile Should she be the one this life is lived for? The question asked when he witnessed her smile Truth is not told to the man without faith That he be alone in this life no more If need he'll run barefoot till they're bled raw Truth for a without faith is elusive Truth for a without con To the tribute that is paid out in time For her he'd spurn life while he adhere Yet still hearts beat when the fair one draws near The one he must run to capture that smile no more
terror
error
never
believe her
forever
s
Woud I spurn should I adhere
So dear
adhere
mere
queer
appear
To the tribute the price which is time
To the tribute which is priced with our time
For her I'd spurn freedom then adhere

The parochial rose garden

The intention was to make this crockery a bit chintzy but I have to say I quite like this pattern, oops.

Slight problem with this version, well several actually. Can't get the glass to throw a shadow, can't get my crummy laptop to process it at a decent resolution and  there are some quirky looking artefacts on on the high lights of the glass..

The place where there will always be a rose
The garden that is never home to thorn
No thumb be pricked no tender flesh torn
The domain of wit and urbane repose
The vulgar 'n'  the crude they will dispose
Here there will be no sheep that need be shorn
Will the world ever know that they were born
It's the fate of many I would suppose


Second draft
Reworked it into a sonnet (sort of - the clauses are too short) and changed the emphasis

The place where there will always be a rose
May you run risk of prick from briar or thorn
No thumb be prick'd yet tender flesh torn
The domain of wit and urbane repose
A vista crafted without spades or hoes
Here there will be no sheep that need be shorn
Will the world ever know that they were born
It's the fate of many I do suppose
For those who may find it too hard to fit
Will be directed to a large neatly tended
Quarter for discarded, the compost pit
Where weed and dross you will find are heaped
So high and weighty the earth be split


Third draft
Woah, the lesson illustrated above is that it's easier to write verse while drunk than with a hangover. This should be an improvement I hope.

The place where there will always be a rose
May you run risk of prick from briar or thorn
No thumb be prick'd yet tender flesh be torn
The domain of wit and urbane repose
This garden were crafted sans spade and hoes
Here there will be no sheep that need be shorn
Will the world ever know that they were born
It's the fate of many I do suppose
For those who may find it too hard to fit
I direct you to a neatly tended
Discarded quarter, compost in the pit
There be weed and dross in heap ascended
So high and weighty the earth be split


Fourth draft
Can something be 'tended' and 'discarded' at the same time? mmm probably not. Not so sure about this change, I like a bit of paradox occasionally.

The place where there will always be a rose
May you run risk of prick from briar or thorn
No thumb be prick'd yet tender flesh be torn
The domain of wit and urbane repose
This garden were crafted sans spade and hoes
Here there will be no sheep that need be shorn
Will the world ever know that they were born
It's the fate of many I do suppose
For those who may find it too hard to fit
I direct you to a neatly tended
Quarter for discarded compost in the pit
There weed and dross be in heap ascended
So high and weighty the earth be split

Just when it first happened I cannot say, neither can I recall how but I remember who it was. Her name was Elizabeth and her long hair lives in my memory as a vivid red flame. Being young and untutored in worldly ways, I found myself perturbed and bewildered at those feelings that surfaced whenever I caught sight of her. I kept them well hidden though, for I knew they could be used as a weapon against me and I was vulnerable enough in my tender youth. Alas, I never expressed that emotion to Liz and she disappeared from my life forever. Since that day I've lied on occasion to women and myself, in the hope that I might rediscover that emotion but those efforts bore no fruit other than the bitter tang of disappointment and regret. Only once did I feel something akin to that which I experienced in my youth. I didn't know her name but she called herself Annabel and she lived on the screen. What a strange world that she should be the font of so much joy and of so many of my tears.

The un-tempered sun burns in the sky, never moving in a land of unceasing daylight. As I turn about I see my footsteps fading in the sand. I recall my thoughts when I started this journey across this desert and I laugh, the man who died on the way was better and braver but he was a fool and fools deserve such a fate as he. It’s cruel to laugh at fools but cruelty is the burden of the desert, the lesson whispered in the sands. I took up the rote taught by many sage and oracle and set my voice to its metre. Thirst beckons, she demands a tribute paid in leather from the sole -- of a shoe, footsteps in the sand -- as I turn about.

West Wittering

After my recent post of some snaps I thought I'd dig some more out of one particular location featured in that post. That would be West Wittering, East Head in particular. There's something unusual about the quality of light on the Sussex coast, I think it's because the cloud tends break up over that region, so even on days with no shadow the light can still be quite beautiful.

Dawn breaking the cloud cover.

Not a brilliant snap by any means and I'll have to be honest I did monkey with the colour here to try and convey the real beauty of this particular sunrise. I'm up early because it's a Sunday during the holiday season and I'm here to do some Mullet fishing and the crowds are not conducive to such activity.

Water on Mars? no just low tide at East Head.

It can get a little scary with tides at this location and they do have the flags out most of time. You're safe as long know what to look for but complacence can be the undoing of anyone so stay focused. The Weever Fish make waders a necessity if you're spending much time moving through the water and such encumbrances make you particular vulnerable to rising water and quicksands in such circumstances.

Isn't the sky pretty?.

Yeah I'm like that, I'll snap anything that takes my fancy. This is a different day, I think, I took the opportunity to settle amongst the dunes for a few monuments and soak up a little sun and noticed this.

Verrrahhgwoooshhhhhh!

Just leaving a bit early, partly because the crowds were turning up but also a local Bass fishing guide had turned up, who's quite well known, and had spotting me catching Mullet. I didn't spot him until he hailed me while I was playing a fish, we exchanged a few words, the usual cordial fare between anglers but his ignorance on Mullet was apparent. Unfortunately he compounded his ignorance by shadowing me and thrashing the water with his fly rod, probably in the hope he could tempt a mullet from my trail of bait. I tried moving but couldn't shake him off and he killed the fishing stone dead, shame really I was having a good day till then. Anyway I was just leaving and I heard this sound like the ground opening up, they were moving really fast and came out of nowhere, I was lucky to catch this snap

Interesting tree

On this day, I just took some time to explore the area. This is the other side of the inlet to the salt marsh. You can see that the prevailing wind evident in the shape of this tree.

The loneliness of the long distance angler.

This is an example of that Sussex light I mentioned, I call it silvery in honour of McGonnicall's first Tay Bridge poem.

A neddy and some explanation

You might recall that quite some time ago I sort of promised I'd post something on linear perspective and you probably also noticed that it hasn't appeared. Honestly I'm not deliberately teasing, I have actually bashed out some words on the subject but after reviewing the first attempts I found them  hopelessly anorak orientated and filed those drafts under B. I'm in the middle of my latest attempt which is better -- ish and was hoping to post something soon, only something's come up that need my attention, a prospect of some regular illustration work. Normally I'm pretty dismissive of these prospects, I've seen too many of 'em of evaporate but this one coincides with a focus of my interest, so I'm gonna give it a go. Meanwhile I'd thought I'd stick up a picture up for entertainment value, this is a very old drawing that I used reference gleaned from one of those pony mags for. It's the pencil drawing for and piece of ink work, which I don't have. I had the inked version pinned to the wall of my studio (bedroom) for quite some time, till a colleague took a shine to it, so I gave him the drawing, which he passed on to his daughter.

This drawing has also been submitted to one of those on demand print sites. I was a bit naive about how those sites work and kind of expected to do some business. After a while it became clear that they're not much more than an exercise in vanity publication, so prompted by disillusion I put ridiculous prices on the stuff I submitted. Anyway here it is for free, albeit in a reduced resolution although if you right click on the pop up a higher resolution file should be available as a lossless png.

Gone fishing

Hampshire, it's not the most spectacular county in the land but there is at least one prominent geographic feature worthy of note. Watership Down is a finger of land that delineates the elevated chalk laden terrain of Hampshire with the plane of the neighbouring Berkshire. I've often travelled along the adjacent route and it's interesting to note how marked the difference between the terrains appears there, much more abrupt than the gentle transition on the A33 via the ever drab Basingstoke. You often find yourself descending from a pleasant day with a moderate level of sunshine into a gloomy damp one, laden with mist or fog.

Even Hampshire's coast is a meagre asset compared to the many beaches of the neighbouring Sussex and certainly inferior to those of Dorset: Bournemouth, the truly spectacular Sandbanks and the ever densely populated Weymouth. Not that Hampshire is completely bereft of coastal attractions, Lymington has a thriving pleasure boating scene and the beach at Milford is a pleasant echo of the shingle banks further west. Southampton too holds a certain appeal, for me particularly because it's one of my favoured venues for Mullet fishing, I wouldn't be venturing into the estuarine waters to bathe there though. So it was with a certain anticipation that I looked forward to my trip to Dorset's Chesil Beach.

The fishing trip had been arranged a few weeks ago but was postponed in the hope our intended quarry, the Trigger Fish, would turn up. Water temperatures are down this year from their highs of the last few years and there had been conflicting reports concerning the presence of these visitors to our shores, that have been turning up in greater numbers. Chesil is the location of a known shoaling spot associated with the wreck of the Royal Adelaide, close to the steeply shelving banks of the beach. We fished there a couple of years ago but were unable to get the spot on the wreck, even so we had reasonable luck, I managed to pull out a nice specimen after several bites that I failed to connect with and my fishing buddy had a couple of nice fish, including a red mullet but alas, he didn't manage to get a Trigger though. This year we managed to get right on the wreck, something that was apparent when my line came back quite heavily frayed after one of the longer casts, the natural shingle of Chesil is quite easy on line, unlike that deposited on the once Sandy beaches of Sussex, it's well weathered with few edges to cause consistent problems with fraying. We did quite well for the first hour or so, pulling out three Black Bream of a good size, sharing rod watching duties between us while we both attempted to temp Bass in the breakers with a lure rod.

After the initial success, things went quiet as the wind picked up and the sun disappeared behind some cloud, a few nibbles here and there with the bait coming back stripped but that was the end of fish for the rest of the day. Eventually the sun came out again it and on the whole it was a pleasant day. I took a break to get some refreshments from the visitor's centre adjacent to the car park, disturbing a hare as I descended the other side of the bank. The visitors centre has received a makeover it seems and the facilities have been upgraded from the simple cafe it once was, so of course the sandwiches were a bit pricey, nice though, Cajun chicken is a step up from cheese and Branston. While I was making my way to the visitors centre I took the chance to query an angler leaving the beach, "Any luck," I hailed, he replied in the muted tone indicative of disappointment, mentioning a token 'couple of Mackerel' as the measure of success, likely to fictional to my mind, at the risk of libelling a stranger.

So our endeavours in comparison to the efforts of others were not in vain, even if the Trigger Fish were absent. We called it day around 3:00, 3:30 not sure of the exact time, I was as tired as dog on Sunday when I got back and I still need to pack the tackle away properly. Didn't take any snaps this time but I do have some around from the last trip, so I'll update this post when I track them down, there is some video we shot this time, I might get a link up of that too.

Update
Unfortuantly I couldn't find a snap of Chesil Beach, I think probably we were using a camera that was my own for most of them, I did find one of the trigger fish though and some others that might be of interest.

A Hampshire beach -- mmm yes!

The salt marsh at Warsash, Southamton

Sandbanks

A Sussex beach

A Triggerfish

So do you see what I mean about the Hampshire coast now? to be fair Hailing Island is in Hampshire too so I'm being a little selective and while there is no trick photography involved in the photo of East Head at West Wittering, it really is that impressive, there are some hazards that need to be considered, like the abundant Weever Fish and the quicksands at some spring tides. Wrecks and hulks abound at Warsash and since most of Southampton was flattened during the war, I've occasionally speculated if any of them were wrecked in raids but it seems that most if not all, are simply result of accident or neglect.

The Doodle Files 5

Strictly speaking I suppose these aren't doodles, although the first one probably qualifies since it was inspired a hare brained scheme to pitch for a syndicated strip but that was Tuesday, so to speak. After a little pondering on the chores involved in churning out a Garth pastiche every week, I thought better of it. They're a little blurry I'm afraid, probably had the camera on daylight.

I've started using a black water soluble lead similar to that Stabilo that I used down to the stump a while ago but with a clutch pencil arrangement. This lead's not quite so soft, still good though and it has the advantage of not suffering from the glare you get from graphite, which is important at the moment cos I'm still working on my lap with a drawing pad and overhead light. The second one is a mixture of graphite and water soluble, the first is that rather gritty large diameter, 5 point something millimetres, water soluble lead, that works rather nicely on textured paper. Talking of textured paper, where did stipple board disappear to? can't find it listed in any of the art shops.

Gurn, fate's chosen man of destiny.

Richard the III for lettering practice, don't ask why.

Some colouring tips

As promised this my attempt to explain the colouring technique I use with image editing software for drawings. Back when I used to do this regularly I used Photoshop, which is an excellent piece of software but the full featured version is way too expensive to justify for personal use, so I've started to use Gimp which is available free to download. Using Gimp was a bit of a painful transition, the source of much tugged hair and yelling at the monitor but if you persevere with it, it turns out to be a very usable alternative.

Right, first things first, scan your image as a greyscale or RGB image, you can scan an eight bit indexed colour image but you'll need  to convert it to RGB or greyscale for the next step.

Clean it up as you feel fit, I use the Levels or Curves tool to adjust the blacks and whites. Once you've done that make sure your image is in RGB mode, if it isn't already. If you're working on a hight resolution image i.e. one intended for print there's a tip make life easier on machines with limited resources, see note 1 at the end.

Fig. 1

You should have something like Fig. 1, a greyscale image on a single layer. You need to perform an extra step before you can proceed. You need to separate all non white coloured pixels from the white, not as tricky as it sounds. You accomplish this by creating a new channel then copy and paste the greyscale image into that channel.

Now create a new layer on the image and use the channel to perform a selection .

Now perform a fill operation with black as your colour, you may have to invert the selection first, as black is normally the default mask colour for channels.

Now create another layer and move it beneath your outline, perform a select all and fill it with white.

Congratulations you've now separated your greyscale image into two portions, it's useful to name each layer as you go along, I suggest Outline and Base.

Fig. 2

Now create a new layer beneath Outline and above Base and name it Flesh or Skin or whatever name takes your fancy. You can use the the brush tool to fill in your base flesh tone or perform a poly selection with the lasso or pen tools.and perform a fill. Choose a somewhat darker tone of flesh than that which represents the finished tone. This step is analogous to a coloured ink wash, over line work.

Fig 3.

Fig. 3 shows the basic modelling, this would be analogous to using opaque body colour over an ink wash. To do this create a new layer above your basic tone then use the brush tool to paint in the modelling. It's best to ensure that the colouring on this layer remains within the area defined by your base flesh layer, I use a selection to ensure this but you could probably link the layers if you wish.

I generally perform this step using white and then set the opacity of this layer to some percentage.

Fig 4.

Now we want to perform the shaded part of our modelling and this where I normally cheat. Instead of faffing with a brush tool I perform some boolean logic to short cut the task. Since our shaded areas are the opposite of lighter areas we should be able to use the computer to do the task for us, and it turns out that, if we've done our job properly with lighter modelling, this is in fact the case. So...

1. First set the active layer to the one you painted in your lighter flesh tone on.
2. Perform an alpha or transparency selection so that coloured area is the selected portion, in Gimp this is: Layer/Transparency/Alpha to Selection.
3. Expand that selection, the amount you expand it depends on the resolution, some where between 5 and 12 pixels works for most screen resolution images, in Gimp this would be: Select/Grow for the appropriate dialogue.
4. Now Feather your selection, this step is optional but you'll probably want to do it, the amount of feathering is resolution dependent, something less than half the amount you grew it is about right.
5. Invert your selection.
6. Set your base flesh layer to the active layer.
7. Perform a selection intersect with the transparency on this layer, with your current selection, in Gimp this is: Layer/Transparency/Intersect with Selection
8. Create a new layer, name it Flesh Shade.
9. Perform a fill with your desired flesh shade colour.

The colour you use for your fill depends on the context of the image, for warm skin, use cool colours for the shaded area, blue or purple. For cool skin, warmer colours, something like a terra verte. In certain cases you may wish to create a reverse highlight, in which case you can ether use a lighter tone of your base flesh colour or a contrasting colour to compliment your flesh tone.

In most cases, I like to perform this step with a solid colour, in this case a blue, then use the layer transparency to moderate it. If you're using it for a reverse high light, you'll need to keep the colour solid.

Fig. 5

Highlights are optional, they're a different step from modelling because they represent reflected light at a coincident angle to the light source, therefore they're dependant upon your viewpoint. I generally only bother with them to indicate shiny surfaces. Keep them quite hard, on a separate layer, usually white on  skin but moderated on shiny fabrics.

Fig. 6

Fig. 7

 Figures 6 and 7 are included to clarify some of the steps described above.

Fig. 8

The image in context, funnily enough I'm not happy with the face on this so it'll probably be changed pretty soon.

Note 1. Human visual acuity is concentrated in black and white, so you can get away with low resolution colour as long as the tonal range is in high resolution. If you need to create high resolution images in can be easier to colour them at low resolution and then rescale them and add a high resolution black overlay.

The Cornish Pixie Affair

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Never read it, probably never will, I just like having it around

Three pics.

Knocked this out a couple of hours ago, it took me ages to do the finished artwork and then I smudged the ink, what an idiot. Just goes to show how rusty I am, the inkwork was so bad I thought I'd better colour it, it was orginally supposed to be just black and white. The colour's not fantastic either, I'm using a mouse and it's a bit like drawing with your feet, I did the second panel first and by the time I got to the sea in the first one, I really rushed the highlights as you can see. I might tart it up a bit tomorrow.

Pencil sketch

A very poor ink job

The colour

The Serpents of Mars

Just a bit of fun here with a panel I found on Kid Robson's blog, from his Conflict on Mars post which features a story from a TV21 annual. The story is illustrated by that classic British illustrator and comic artist Ron Turner, unfortunately the colour isn't that impressive, British annuals from that period had rather acetic look to the colour, not that I want to bad mouth the person responsible because in some instances it's quite passable and he probably had to contend with unreasonable deadlines or rates assigned to the completion of the work. However Turner is rather well known for his versatility with colour and that's especially true for his illustrations for the work of John Russel Fern, AKA Vargo Statten, which are noted for their -- boldness. So I had a go at giving a panel the Statten look, with only marginal success I'm afraid, I lost some the line detail and the black outline isn't really a feature of the Statten look but I though it was worth a post.

warm

It was very warm today and I wilted a bit in the heat, I don't have aircon and couldn't get a draught going. Unfortunately I perspire rather profusely in the heat,  so I'm sitting here with aura of stale sweat and a heat rash. I wasn't the only one suffering though, there's a problem with a leaky waterer I use to keep the hens watered, so I had to keep some water in shallow dish for them topped up. When I checked to lock 'em up for the night, I came across a hedgehog gasping for liquid refreshment so desperately, he/she ignored me as they imbibed from the dish. I jumped out of my skin as I first caught sight of it, which didn't prompt it to curl up instead it just stood still doing it's impersonation of bog brush. I left it alone, I'll clean the dish in the morning.

Kitchen tip 01-- Crispy Salads

Don't know if you're enjoying the fine weather we are at the moment, in one of the brief periods of summery weather we enjoy in Britain, if you are you might thinking of salad for supper instead of labouring over a frying pan. Ah yes but -- that lettuce you picked up from the supermarket, they got kind of limp and droopy when you had to leave 'em in the car to queue for those items you forgot to put in your shopping trolley when you did the rounds in the supermarket, either that or they were already in a pretty sorry state when you picked 'em up. You might have noticed that modern supermarkets keep the vegetables cooled on the shelf with air conditioning ducts, unfortunately this technique of cooling the vegetables to keep them fresh doesn't do too much for their condition and they can become limp an unappealing even while they're still on the shelves, this is especially a problem with leafy items like cabbage and lettuce. No need to worry though there's a tip that will restore them.

This technique works best if you buy your lettuce or cabbage the day before you intend to use it but it's probably possible to get good results on the same day if you give it enough time, it's just that I've never tried it. There are a couple of caveats: it will only work on vegetables that are reasonably fresh, the technique involves rehydrating the leaves (yes I know they seem soggy but they've actually dehydrated) if their not sufficiently fresh it wont work because the cell membranes with have broken down, so don't try it on that week old cabbage. The next caveat concerns hygiene, you're rehydrating the leaves, so you must take steps to ensure that water you use is safe to consume, this is especially important with uncooked vegetables. So be scrupulous in ensuring the utensils you use are clean as well.

---

Step one: wash your vegetables thoroughly then give them an extra rinse.

Step two: now steep them in clean water for a couple hours, preferably cool water in cool conditions. You can change the water periodically if you wish.

Step three: remove your vegetables from the water and place them in a closed but unsealed bag, do not remove excess water from your vegetables.

Step four: place the bag with the vegetables in your fridge and leave there overnight.

That's it -- all you need to do now is open your fridge the next morning to retrieve your vegetables, that are now crisper than those packets of Golden Wonder that always to seem to materialise behind you, just as you've settled into your seat in the cinema. Don't ask me how it works, I haven't the faintest idea beyond it's obvious that the leaves are being rehydrated but I'm not sure why it shouldn't be apparent immediately you remove them from the water. Obviously if you leave 'em in the fridge for too long they'll probably go all droopy again, so it's probably best to consume them within 24 hours. Incidental it's also worth doing this with cabbage if it's a bit droopy and you intend to cook it, it improves the texture a lot. I only cook green cabbage myself and that does tend to suffer from droop more than the white stuff but you could try it with that too.

Savalas as Blofeld

Eon Productions had a long build up to their reveal of Fleming's Blofeld, introducing him in, From Russia with Love but keeping his features off screen. The incessant attention to his cat and his plummy voice the only clues to the character of this genius of evil, until he was finally revealed in, You Only Live Twice. The actor chosen for this denouement was Donald Pleasence, who was brought in as a replacement,  when the actor who originally portrayed Blofeld in the earlier films was judged to lack the menace to portray the character in full. Pleasence did a passable job as Blofeld, preserving the impassive menace of his earlier incarnation. Indeed that portrayal a passed into cinematic iconography but the Blofeld that really resonates with me is the one portrayed by Telly Savalas.

Telly Savalas was a rather under exploited character actor who's probably best known for the 70's TV series Kojak, which was waning from its height of popularity when I first sneaked out of school early to catch the early evening double bill. Unfortunately this didn't stop the cat calls of, "Who loves ya baby?" on almost every screen entrance. Thankfully a selective memory filters these trivial details from my recollection of the experience, aided no doubt by the numerous occasions I've re-watched OHMSS. Savalas's Blofeld is rather different from that which preceeded it, Savalas is urbane, occasionally sardonic with a hint of the effete about him as he indulges in curious affectations, such as the manner he holds his cigarettes. I'm reminded of Gorshin's Riddler to some extent, as Savalas's Blofeld displays obvious satisfaction, if not glee, as he torments Bond with the revelation of his dastardly doings. Savalas's Blofeld is no clown though, Blofeld's amusement is a dark and chilling indication of his callousness and brutal conviction, as casually he jokes about the murder of Bond's colleague.

In this scene, George Lazenby doesn't come off too well against Savalas, it's probably his weakest in the film even though it's a key scene. You'll notice that when Savalas is framed the camera is angled up, a cinematic device to infer menace or potency, while it's either level or angled down when Lazenby is the focus of the scene. Lazenby's Bond seems vulnerable and impontent, which is a reasonable way to portray the scene and relfects Connery in Dr. No but Lazenby lacks Connery's veiled agression, his demeanour of a cornered animal looking for an opportunity to strike out.

It's interesting to note that OHMSS was the story that Fleming wrote for Connery but when it came to film it, he'd left the franchise, albeit temporarily. Fleming even filled in some of Bond's biography to reflect Connery, who's portrayal of Bond he admired. Anyway, here's the, let me tell you all about my plan to conquer the world scene from OHMSS and see what you think.

Game (((update) update) update)

Just found this, its a bit of fun that I first slapped together a real long time ago, it got revived a bit a couple of years ago for a promo. This is the final version, which I think never actually got published. It was built with a really old version of flash that was outdated even when it first built and it was absolute pain to code. Since then flash has got a bit better, it seems and you can track code with some degree of sanity. Read the how to play before you give it go, it's got useful pointers that'll save you time and effort wondering why the ball doesn't move, lol. Don't bother with e-mail although you can put in a name if you like, the submit score button won't work either, or it shouldn't unless the perl script it activates is still on site and will process hits across domains. The game is pretty simple but it's totally skill based, there's no randomising, so if you don't score, it's your fault, although not scoring isn't a complete waste of time because you can sample the assorted insults at the end of the game that greet a nil score.



(update) Looks like the score board is still up, oops, never mind. knock yourself out and see if you can beat the high score.

(update) update) Oh dear, this page is playing up, the embed for the flash file disapeared, I wonder why? Anyway I've edited the page but it might be a problem that re-accures, knowing Google, so if there's nothing here I promise I'm not just pulling your chain.

((update) update) update) The weirdness with this flash file continues, don't know why but it only accepts input when it feels like it, first the name and e-mail boxes stopped accepting input, then subsequently mouse input failed. Too weird for me to work out what's going on, has to be something about this page or the browser or both. Anyway I'll leave it up for a day or so then if still doesn't co-operate it gonna get filed un B.