A bit of ret-conning, since I couldn't easily add stuff about Skyfall and The Hobbit into the Christmas posting...
I took my folks to see Skyfall a couple of weeks after our Wales jaunt, because I know they're both keen on Bond, generally, but they never seem to get to the cinema under their own steam. They probably know they can count on me to pick up most of the interesting movies on DVD, but I've only ever bought one Bond DVD and, for the life of me, I can't think why... Other than it being the one where Robert Carlisle is not the villain. I kept meaning to pick up the first couple of Daniel Craig movies, because they're such a different take on Bond, but never got round to it. And I'd have to say that, 50th Anniversary or not, Skyfall probably isn't going to buck the trend.
That's not to say it's a bad movie - not even that it's a bad Bond movie - just that, in its own way, it's just as remarkable and unremarkable as virtually every other Bond movie ever made.
The main thrust of the story is about the internal machinations of the British Secret Service, and the effects it all has on their operatives. I've been a fan of Judi Dench as M since her first appearance, opposite Pierce Brosnan in GoldenEye, but in Skyfall she gets to be positively badass. The long-overdue reintroduction of Q, in the form of Ben Whishaw, was welcome... but a little obvious, even clichéd, given the shift in perception of geeks in recent years. The only particularly original introduction was Ralph Fiennes as Gareth Mallory, clearly after M's job from the get-go... and yet surprisingly badass himself, rather than the usual all-smarm-no-backbone pencilpushing kind of character that would normally show up in these circumstances.
In many ways, the film suffered from trying to pay thorough homage to fifty years of other Bond movies. The reboot, starring Daniel Craig and beginning with Casino Royale was billed as Bond without the gadgets, grounded in reality, and from the very beginning. He started out as a thug, without any of the finesse for which Bond has been known since Sean Connery first portrayed him.
I'd hoped that Quantum of Solace and the later films would show the gradual refinement of Britain's most famous fictional spy, but there seems to have been a huge leap forward in time between Quantum of Solace and Skyfall - Bond has gone from impulsive raw recruit to washed-up has-been, leading many to theorise that Casino Royale and Quantum of Solace were set before Dr. No, and the events of Skyfall follow on from the full chronological progression of all the other Bond movies up to the reboot. It's a compelling theory, and all the Easter eggs (such as Bond's tricked out Aston Martin, won in Casino Royale, but accessorised by Q for Thunderball) could easily be confirmation, as could the frequent reference to Bond's age and ability to do his job (Daniel Craig has admitted that he's beginning to think he's too old for the role!). It's not impossible, I suppose.
The title itself is quite cleverly integrated into the story, though it's another tick in the 'too much Bond backstory' column. When the word 'Skyfall' is first mentioned, it seems to possess some weight, some significance... some hidden or coded meaning, perhaps evidence that Bond is no longer to be trusted... and yet, when its meaning is revealed, it's something of a let-down.
After the film my father asked if I'd spotted a blooper. There were a few continuity glitches that I saw, but he'd picked up on something specific: an heirloom was described as a "hunting rifle" when it was introduced, but had miraculously become a shotgun when it was actually used. Mind you, that he actually picked up on something like that kinda proves that he enjoyed the film - had he not, he wouldn't have bothered mentioning it.
There's actually an interesting contrast between the latest Bond franchise entry and a recent 2-part BBC drama, Restless... Starring Hayley Atwell (who appeared in the recent Captain America movie) and Charlotte Rampling (who surely stopped aging at least 15 years ago), it tells of a young, naive Russian girl drawn into the spying life - working for the British in the Second World War - by a smooth operator played by Rufus Sewell, and the parallel story of the former agent in her later life, trying to explain her story to an incredulous daughter and solve the mystery that sent her on the run after the Second World War. It was a decent, if predictable drama, not helped by some terribly obvious casting choices... after all, when was the last time Rufus Sewell played a good guy? And then, to have the older version of his character played by Michael Gambon..? Still, it was fun... And the idea that a plan set in motion to keep the USA out of World War II is almost accidentally turned around by the good instincts of someone who was basically still relatively new to espionage, and who had been set up by the Russians to be killed, only for the whole plot to be rendered moot by Japan's bombing of Pearl Harbour made an interesting backstory... it's just a shame that most of the stuff going on with the daughter was a means of progressing the WWII narrative, rather than being much of a story in its own right.
The Hobbit, meanwhile, began just as slowly as The Lord of the Rings, sending me to sleep ever so briefly before Bilbo finally ventured out with Gandalf, Thorin and company. Weirdly, I kept trying to compare it to the old Melbourne House adventure game on the Spectrum (just for the record, Thorin doesn't keep sitting down and singing about gold, nor does he continually tell Bilbo to "Hurry up"). The narrative was quite viciously pared down for that, however, considering it can be completed in less than ten minutes (arguably true of any Spectrum game from that time), whereas Peter Jackson's epic takes about three hours to get maybe halfway through the story. Once the story proper started, it progressed almost relentlessly and, by the end of it, I almost wished they'd left a few bits out, just to make the movie less of a rollercoaster... The way the group kept getting split up, only to find each other later on, and Gandalf's frequent disappearing acts weren't that well handled (the latter, in particular, turned into a game of "now you see him, now you don't", and the way he always seemed to turn up in the nick of time felt staged, rather than fortunate).
Also, considering how many of the beasties in Lord of the Rings were actually actors wearing prosthetics, it was deeply disappointing to see that most of their counterparts in An Unexpected Journey were CGI.
On the upside, while I'm not a massive fan of Martin Freeman, it was good to see him become absorbed into the role, and actually become Bilbo Baggins, a character from a story, rather than just coming across as the same old Martin Freeman character in Middle Earth Cosplay.
The big question is that, since part one (probably better subtitled "Half an Unexpected Journey") ends before they've reached their mountain destination, does this mean that the second movie will end on a massive cliffhanger purely to justify the third movie, which will then follow the pattern estblished by Lord of the Rings and take at least an hour to get to the final end of the story? I've heard rumours that part 2 (subtitled "There, and Back Again") will be the end of the Tolkien adaptation, and the third film will bridge the gap between The Hobbit and Lord of the Rings. If that's the case, then Peter Jackson's hexology of films will be this generation's Star Wars... only better.
And here's hoping that Disney's Star Wars Episode VII has more of a story than George Lucas's Episodes I-III...
Sunday 30 December 2012
Saturday 29 December 2012
Christmas Highs & Lows
Since this tends to be a complicated time of year in the best of years, I normally try to get all my Christmas shopping done in advance.
By which I mean 'during the summer'.
This year didn't go quite according to that plan and, for the first time in many years, I was still doing Christmas shopping the week before (final present bought on the evening of the 17th) though that was largely due to a misunderstanding. I'd thought that my brother-in-law had asked for money towards something he'd bought himself, but it turned out that had been his birthday present. It shouldn't be so bad, but my brother-in-law is almost ridiculously difficult to buy for, because he's "the man who has everything or, if not, is about to buy it for himself". Just about everything one could think of as gift material is already in his possession, and I have this nagging desire to get something which is, if not useful, is at least unique or 'different'.
In the end, traipsing through HMV's gadget section, I happened upon a 'Tetris lamp' (independently lit bricks made in the shape and colour of Tetris bricks, one of which plugs into the mains, the rest pick up their power, wirelessly, from that brick) and a self-stirring mug. The former is pointless tat, the latter is potentially useful... but I'd already heard through the family grapevine that he's drinking espresso these days, which wouldn't suit a self-stirring mug.
I phoned my sister for a second opinion, and the conversation boiled down to "What do you get for the man who has everything? Pointless tat!", so I went with the Tetris lamp.
Naturally, even that didn't go smoothly. I think it was Christmas Eve when the realisation hit me that I hadn't removed the price label, so some careful unpicking of sellotape (naturally from the wrong end of the package) was called for. My faux-pas fixed, Christmas carried on as normal.
It was almost a white Christmas, too, if you count the visibility-reducing white haze of heavy rain. I'd held off venturing off to my folks' place until the early evening of Christmas Eve so as to avoid as much rain as possible. On the way out, I emptied my bins (hurrah for bins being collected on the regular day, despite it being Christmas Eve), then got a text message from my mother asking if I'd be round in time for dinner. I'd been having trouble sending text messages throughout the day, so I decided to call instead... and got a recorded message saying I was out of credit.
Which explained the 'trouble sending texts messages'. Now I just have to get in touch with my network to ascertain why I got no warning text when my credit was running low.
So I just carried on, and announced by arrival with the doorbell, apologising for not calling to say I was on my way - as I'd said I would - because of the issue with my cellphone. I'd actually intended to phone before leaving the flat, but sorting everything out for my absence took a bit longer than I'd hoped, and distracted me.
Almost the first thing I did when I got over there was something I'd been meaning to do ever since I fixed my own PC with nifty bit of software... Namely get a new lease of life out of my folks' 5-year-old clunker. I'd intended to download the software onto a memory stick and transfer it over that way, but didn't get my act together on that front... turns out that was probably a good thing anyway, considering they're running an older version of Windows. Downloading the software wasn't really a chore, but the speed their machine runs at makes just about everything slow. Once it was downloaded, it installed reasonably quickly, ran its checks far faster than I'd expected... and turned up over 400 problems. That's probably only about the same as my machine had, but it proved that the machine required some attention. A short while (and $30) later, this ancient, positively archaic computer (it even has a floppy drive!) had gone from taking several minutes to navigate between web pages to a far more tolerable 15-20 seconds... And I'm reliably informed that its still operating better than it has in years.
I also downloaded Firefox and Thunderbird, just to get my parents away from Internet Explorer and Outlook, but couldn't get the latter set up properly, for no obvious reason. A few demonstrations in YouTube further proved that the machine was running nice and fast, then we just settled down to dinner in front of the TV before bed.
It had been about a year since I slept in that bed last, so it wasn't a surprise to find that I had trouble getting to sleep (I'm so over the "Squeee! it's Christmas!" insomnia) even without the torrential downpour that woke me up around 3am. Rising not long before lunch, we exchanged presents (only one for me - a cheque to cover the TransFormers Collectors' Club Subscription Service for 2013 - with the other, ostensibly from my sister but bought and wrapped by me, held over till Boxing Day), had an awesome Salmon lunch, watched some TV (including the Queen's Speech, naturally, and the 'traditional' Doctor Who Christmas Special) and a couple of DVDs, then headed for bed.
Naturally, with the niece arriving on Boxing Day, things livened up a bit. It began with a conversation between my mother and me about the difference in tone between Sam Raimi's take on Spider-Man and the newer 'reboot' directed by Marc Webb and starring Andrew Garfield, and would have gone on to the closing chapter of Chris Nolan's Batman trilogy if it weren't for the aforementioned arrival.
Kate was exuberant to the point of being very difficult to keep up with, and she still hasn't quite got the hang of 'Hide and Seek'. For the most part, she was well-behaved (apart from taking a swipe at anyone who seemed to have fallen asleep, and standing in front of the television at critical moments). The last few presents were exchanged, and I was pleased to find that my Tetris lamp was something Mark had considered buying for himself, but hadn't yet got round to.
Typically, we got a couple of tirades of high-tech jargon from him - one regarding his cellphone service provider being unable to offer any meaningful technical support on a piece of hardware that effectively turns their home into a cell on their network (since their service is a bit rubbish in that area), the other regarding PC World's inability to set up a PC according to spec, meaning a new machine they bought was not immediately usable and will have to be taken back (Helen was advised to let them tell her what was missing, so they wouldn't be able to worm out of it and claim she just hadn't been able to find it) - but he spent most of the day napping on the sofa and later had one of his headaches, forcing him to retire to his room.
I got a lift back home, since the arrival of the extended family meant that there were no bedrooms spare anymore. For no readily obvious reason, I decided against turning the heating back on until part way through the 27th, then put it on full-time, full blast, leading me to feel a bit ill, and later develop a headache which lasted pretty much all day on the 28th.
Today, I had big plans... Get the laundry done, do some shopping, get a few other things done and generally prepare for my return to work next Wednesday... Unfortunately, my plans went very awry at the very first stage.
It didn't help that I got up late - virtually 11am, despite waking shortly after 8am - but I then found my washing machine rather uncooperative. The buttons have always been a bit flaky but, having switched it on around lunchtime, I was unable to make it start washing... and then couldn't switch it off again. A quick call to my folks brought them round in the mid-afternoon, but it took about an hour to get the washing machine out of its cubby-hole (yet again, I find myself cursing the guy that installed my kitchen - just about every time something goes wrong, it's exacerbated by the way the units were put together), then much fussing before it was all reassembled, and a quick test performed before it was put back - with only a little less trouble than we'd had in getting it out. There's nothing actually wrong with it (unless my father's theory about microfractures in the PCB is true), and the buttons have always been a bit sticky, but it's now working thanks to a couple of bits of stray plastic wedged in behind the PCB, ensuring it doesn't warp when the buttons are pushed. High-tech stuff.
Now it's all back together, all of the buttons and lights are working better than they used to (particularly the five 'special option' buttons, which had always been sunken in the past), but my first wash didn't drain properly, so half of it got an additional fast spin after a manual purge. I was planning to put another load in, but it got so late I decided to leave it till tomorrow... Expect a detailed write-up...
On the upside, I did manage to look into replacements, should the need arise... and I have made a start on my income tax for this year... I still need to phone the tax office for additional clarification, but it looks as though I'll be getting a little money back.
By which I mean 'during the summer'.
This year didn't go quite according to that plan and, for the first time in many years, I was still doing Christmas shopping the week before (final present bought on the evening of the 17th) though that was largely due to a misunderstanding. I'd thought that my brother-in-law had asked for money towards something he'd bought himself, but it turned out that had been his birthday present. It shouldn't be so bad, but my brother-in-law is almost ridiculously difficult to buy for, because he's "the man who has everything or, if not, is about to buy it for himself". Just about everything one could think of as gift material is already in his possession, and I have this nagging desire to get something which is, if not useful, is at least unique or 'different'.
In the end, traipsing through HMV's gadget section, I happened upon a 'Tetris lamp' (independently lit bricks made in the shape and colour of Tetris bricks, one of which plugs into the mains, the rest pick up their power, wirelessly, from that brick) and a self-stirring mug. The former is pointless tat, the latter is potentially useful... but I'd already heard through the family grapevine that he's drinking espresso these days, which wouldn't suit a self-stirring mug.
I phoned my sister for a second opinion, and the conversation boiled down to "What do you get for the man who has everything? Pointless tat!", so I went with the Tetris lamp.
Naturally, even that didn't go smoothly. I think it was Christmas Eve when the realisation hit me that I hadn't removed the price label, so some careful unpicking of sellotape (naturally from the wrong end of the package) was called for. My faux-pas fixed, Christmas carried on as normal.
It was almost a white Christmas, too, if you count the visibility-reducing white haze of heavy rain. I'd held off venturing off to my folks' place until the early evening of Christmas Eve so as to avoid as much rain as possible. On the way out, I emptied my bins (hurrah for bins being collected on the regular day, despite it being Christmas Eve), then got a text message from my mother asking if I'd be round in time for dinner. I'd been having trouble sending text messages throughout the day, so I decided to call instead... and got a recorded message saying I was out of credit.
Which explained the 'trouble sending texts messages'. Now I just have to get in touch with my network to ascertain why I got no warning text when my credit was running low.
So I just carried on, and announced by arrival with the doorbell, apologising for not calling to say I was on my way - as I'd said I would - because of the issue with my cellphone. I'd actually intended to phone before leaving the flat, but sorting everything out for my absence took a bit longer than I'd hoped, and distracted me.
Almost the first thing I did when I got over there was something I'd been meaning to do ever since I fixed my own PC with nifty bit of software... Namely get a new lease of life out of my folks' 5-year-old clunker. I'd intended to download the software onto a memory stick and transfer it over that way, but didn't get my act together on that front... turns out that was probably a good thing anyway, considering they're running an older version of Windows. Downloading the software wasn't really a chore, but the speed their machine runs at makes just about everything slow. Once it was downloaded, it installed reasonably quickly, ran its checks far faster than I'd expected... and turned up over 400 problems. That's probably only about the same as my machine had, but it proved that the machine required some attention. A short while (and $30) later, this ancient, positively archaic computer (it even has a floppy drive!) had gone from taking several minutes to navigate between web pages to a far more tolerable 15-20 seconds... And I'm reliably informed that its still operating better than it has in years.
I also downloaded Firefox and Thunderbird, just to get my parents away from Internet Explorer and Outlook, but couldn't get the latter set up properly, for no obvious reason. A few demonstrations in YouTube further proved that the machine was running nice and fast, then we just settled down to dinner in front of the TV before bed.
It had been about a year since I slept in that bed last, so it wasn't a surprise to find that I had trouble getting to sleep (I'm so over the "Squeee! it's Christmas!" insomnia) even without the torrential downpour that woke me up around 3am. Rising not long before lunch, we exchanged presents (only one for me - a cheque to cover the TransFormers Collectors' Club Subscription Service for 2013 - with the other, ostensibly from my sister but bought and wrapped by me, held over till Boxing Day), had an awesome Salmon lunch, watched some TV (including the Queen's Speech, naturally, and the 'traditional' Doctor Who Christmas Special) and a couple of DVDs, then headed for bed.
Naturally, with the niece arriving on Boxing Day, things livened up a bit. It began with a conversation between my mother and me about the difference in tone between Sam Raimi's take on Spider-Man and the newer 'reboot' directed by Marc Webb and starring Andrew Garfield, and would have gone on to the closing chapter of Chris Nolan's Batman trilogy if it weren't for the aforementioned arrival.
Kate was exuberant to the point of being very difficult to keep up with, and she still hasn't quite got the hang of 'Hide and Seek'. For the most part, she was well-behaved (apart from taking a swipe at anyone who seemed to have fallen asleep, and standing in front of the television at critical moments). The last few presents were exchanged, and I was pleased to find that my Tetris lamp was something Mark had considered buying for himself, but hadn't yet got round to.
Typically, we got a couple of tirades of high-tech jargon from him - one regarding his cellphone service provider being unable to offer any meaningful technical support on a piece of hardware that effectively turns their home into a cell on their network (since their service is a bit rubbish in that area), the other regarding PC World's inability to set up a PC according to spec, meaning a new machine they bought was not immediately usable and will have to be taken back (Helen was advised to let them tell her what was missing, so they wouldn't be able to worm out of it and claim she just hadn't been able to find it) - but he spent most of the day napping on the sofa and later had one of his headaches, forcing him to retire to his room.
I got a lift back home, since the arrival of the extended family meant that there were no bedrooms spare anymore. For no readily obvious reason, I decided against turning the heating back on until part way through the 27th, then put it on full-time, full blast, leading me to feel a bit ill, and later develop a headache which lasted pretty much all day on the 28th.
Today, I had big plans... Get the laundry done, do some shopping, get a few other things done and generally prepare for my return to work next Wednesday... Unfortunately, my plans went very awry at the very first stage.
It didn't help that I got up late - virtually 11am, despite waking shortly after 8am - but I then found my washing machine rather uncooperative. The buttons have always been a bit flaky but, having switched it on around lunchtime, I was unable to make it start washing... and then couldn't switch it off again. A quick call to my folks brought them round in the mid-afternoon, but it took about an hour to get the washing machine out of its cubby-hole (yet again, I find myself cursing the guy that installed my kitchen - just about every time something goes wrong, it's exacerbated by the way the units were put together), then much fussing before it was all reassembled, and a quick test performed before it was put back - with only a little less trouble than we'd had in getting it out. There's nothing actually wrong with it (unless my father's theory about microfractures in the PCB is true), and the buttons have always been a bit sticky, but it's now working thanks to a couple of bits of stray plastic wedged in behind the PCB, ensuring it doesn't warp when the buttons are pushed. High-tech stuff.
Now it's all back together, all of the buttons and lights are working better than they used to (particularly the five 'special option' buttons, which had always been sunken in the past), but my first wash didn't drain properly, so half of it got an additional fast spin after a manual purge. I was planning to put another load in, but it got so late I decided to leave it till tomorrow... Expect a detailed write-up...
On the upside, I did manage to look into replacements, should the need arise... and I have made a start on my income tax for this year... I still need to phone the tax office for additional clarification, but it looks as though I'll be getting a little money back.
Monday 24 December 2012
A Longer Break Than Expected...
...plus, well, it's Christmas, so I'm going to be AFK for another couple of days.
But, hey, Christmas, right? That surely means offline blogging about the perils of venturing home to stay with my folks, experiencing once again the interminable silence that generally settles once all the news has been passed on, and until the niece arrives.
My sister, brother-in-law and niece will be arriving sometime on Boxing Day, having spent Christmas with brother-in-law's family. I gather it's not going to be a fun experience. Just as they frequently outstay their welcome when visiting their son and daughter-in-law, they will be hoping 'the kids' will stay as long as possible. It's not that they're not welcoming (in their own way) or that they just don't try... But my brother-in-law's family just aren't set up for exuberant three-year-olds generally, and it's a widely-held belief that his mother just doesn't know what to do with little girls, having only had sons herself.
I gather than the niece is to have two Christmas costumes (a small fraction of, say, Beyoncé's Christmas wardrobe, but I can see which way the wind blows :P). One I can understand... the other... I'm just gonna hafta see to believe. The word on the grapevine is that she wanted to be able to dress as (Disney's) Rapunzel... and Spider-Man.
Yes, my niece, who not so long ago wanted to be my hat, now wants to be Spider-Man.
And I'm pretty sure she hasn't seen any of the recent movies...
There's so much I should have been blogging about since the last posting... Loads of awesome personal stuff which, upon reflection, will probably not be explained in detail here (this being a personal blog, not a Personal Blog), not to mention taking my folks to see Skyfall and, more recently (like, 2 days ago) going to see the first part of Peter Jackson's improbably triptychal adaptation of The Hobbit, subtitled 'An Unexpected Journey'... though, honestly, it probably should have been 'Half an Unexpected Journey' considering where it finishes.
Work continues apace... As I left one job last week, virtually everything is done on the big project I've been focussed on, so my last three days in the New Year should be a good time to reinforce the minimal training I have given their newbie full-timer (she took excellent notes, and had no problems asking questions on the rare occasion she hit a problem), and go over a few tips and tricks that might prove useful in future. Then, after a short break, I shall be starting full-time, for three months (or more, fingers crossed) with one of my other regular employers.
There's all kinds of other stuff I should be doing - loads of writing and arty things - but I really haven't been in the mood lately. Maybe I'll get some stuff done while I'm back with my folks... maybe things will get back on track once I'm back home after Christmas... but I'm pretty sure I'm not going to be breaking my record for posts-per-annum (128, back in 2007) this year...
But, hey, Christmas, right? That surely means offline blogging about the perils of venturing home to stay with my folks, experiencing once again the interminable silence that generally settles once all the news has been passed on, and until the niece arrives.
My sister, brother-in-law and niece will be arriving sometime on Boxing Day, having spent Christmas with brother-in-law's family. I gather it's not going to be a fun experience. Just as they frequently outstay their welcome when visiting their son and daughter-in-law, they will be hoping 'the kids' will stay as long as possible. It's not that they're not welcoming (in their own way) or that they just don't try... But my brother-in-law's family just aren't set up for exuberant three-year-olds generally, and it's a widely-held belief that his mother just doesn't know what to do with little girls, having only had sons herself.
I gather than the niece is to have two Christmas costumes (a small fraction of, say, Beyoncé's Christmas wardrobe, but I can see which way the wind blows :P). One I can understand... the other... I'm just gonna hafta see to believe. The word on the grapevine is that she wanted to be able to dress as (Disney's) Rapunzel... and Spider-Man.
Yes, my niece, who not so long ago wanted to be my hat, now wants to be Spider-Man.
And I'm pretty sure she hasn't seen any of the recent movies...
There's so much I should have been blogging about since the last posting... Loads of awesome personal stuff which, upon reflection, will probably not be explained in detail here (this being a personal blog, not a Personal Blog), not to mention taking my folks to see Skyfall and, more recently (like, 2 days ago) going to see the first part of Peter Jackson's improbably triptychal adaptation of The Hobbit, subtitled 'An Unexpected Journey'... though, honestly, it probably should have been 'Half an Unexpected Journey' considering where it finishes.
Work continues apace... As I left one job last week, virtually everything is done on the big project I've been focussed on, so my last three days in the New Year should be a good time to reinforce the minimal training I have given their newbie full-timer (she took excellent notes, and had no problems asking questions on the rare occasion she hit a problem), and go over a few tips and tricks that might prove useful in future. Then, after a short break, I shall be starting full-time, for three months (or more, fingers crossed) with one of my other regular employers.
There's all kinds of other stuff I should be doing - loads of writing and arty things - but I really haven't been in the mood lately. Maybe I'll get some stuff done while I'm back with my folks... maybe things will get back on track once I'm back home after Christmas... but I'm pretty sure I'm not going to be breaking my record for posts-per-annum (128, back in 2007) this year...
Tuesday 13 November 2012
A Break
For no definable reason, I haven't had a holiday in about ten years.
What I mean by that is "I've taken time off work, but I haven't gone away on a proper holiday". The last one I took was to Auckland with my folks. Prior to that, I took touring holidays in the States with my oldest friend for pretty much three years running.
In part, the holidays stopped because I started saving for a flat and then, once I bought a flat, because there was a mortgage to pay.
This year, my folks invited me along on a 'big family holiday' to Wales with my sister and her family. It didn't necessarily seem like a great idea... and in the end, faced with a choice between taking a holiday with my family and bumming around at home (or, y'know, doing another week of temping work), I chose to face all the possibilities - good and bad - offered by being locked up with my parents, sister, brother-in-law and neice in a converted stables in north west Wales.
While there was no internet out there, as such (brother-in-law found a 'sweet spot', on the arm of a large leather chair in the lounge, where he could slave his phone to his laptop and use it to connect, but it wasn't consistent) I did take along a notepad, hoping to scrawl out some kind of travelogue or, heavens forfend, perhaps even do some creative writing. The idea was that the travelogue would be typed up upon my return, and uploaded to this 'ere blog.
Sadly, while it started out as a reasonable travelogue... it quickly very descended into "OMGMYFAMILYISSOANNOYING!", and so the plan changed...
The overall experience was great (apart from the food poisoning, which everyone else miraculously avoided), and I think we all came away very keen to return, though perhaps at a different time of year. Sometime when it wouldn't be raining as much... Sometime, therefore, that Wales is not part of the British Isles and subject to its ridiculous weather 'patterns'. Or spring/summer... at a stretch.
In my first week back at work after the break, I felt more awake, more alert... My concentration was better, my memory was clearer... Things just seemed to click into place more easily, and I got more done than even I'd expected.
At work, that is.
But now, a week after returning, I've entered the 'unfulfilling' period of my current temping run. The more interesting job didn't book me quickly enough, so the less interesting job has me for three or four days a week until Christmas. On the upside - or so I thought - I'd be training their newbie and setting some ads for their next big project. On the downside, what's happened is that their newbie is getting sent on a proper training course (though I'm to supplement her learning) and the ads were set by the Sub-Editors in the few days I was at the other job between last week and today... So my workload has only risen marginally, and what little extra I have to do is mind-numbing.
Funnily, my colleague at the other job, suggested to me yesterday that I should ask to be released from the unfulfilling job because she'd definitely have interesting work for me... and then, today, one of the managers at the unfulfilling job asked about the possibility of dragging me in for extra days if needed. I can't ask to be released because they firmly believe I'll be busy (sending emails, making phone calls, filing copy... Blah... I could do most of it with my eyes closed) and, while I don't believe I'll be at all busy, I can see the need for someone to be there monitoring copy. I can't accept extra days from them because the other place has already booked them till the end of the year.
Thankfully, the early part of next year is looking more interesting... a final three days at the unfulfilling job, then three months of the fun job (completing what would have been a twelve month maternity cover contract were it not for silly political machinations which have since been backpeddled some way)...
There's a lot more to be said... but it's late, and I'm going to get some kip now...
What I mean by that is "I've taken time off work, but I haven't gone away on a proper holiday". The last one I took was to Auckland with my folks. Prior to that, I took touring holidays in the States with my oldest friend for pretty much three years running.
In part, the holidays stopped because I started saving for a flat and then, once I bought a flat, because there was a mortgage to pay.
This year, my folks invited me along on a 'big family holiday' to Wales with my sister and her family. It didn't necessarily seem like a great idea... and in the end, faced with a choice between taking a holiday with my family and bumming around at home (or, y'know, doing another week of temping work), I chose to face all the possibilities - good and bad - offered by being locked up with my parents, sister, brother-in-law and neice in a converted stables in north west Wales.
While there was no internet out there, as such (brother-in-law found a 'sweet spot', on the arm of a large leather chair in the lounge, where he could slave his phone to his laptop and use it to connect, but it wasn't consistent) I did take along a notepad, hoping to scrawl out some kind of travelogue or, heavens forfend, perhaps even do some creative writing. The idea was that the travelogue would be typed up upon my return, and uploaded to this 'ere blog.
Sadly, while it started out as a reasonable travelogue... it quickly very descended into "OMGMYFAMILYISSOANNOYING!", and so the plan changed...
The overall experience was great (apart from the food poisoning, which everyone else miraculously avoided), and I think we all came away very keen to return, though perhaps at a different time of year. Sometime when it wouldn't be raining as much... Sometime, therefore, that Wales is not part of the British Isles and subject to its ridiculous weather 'patterns'. Or spring/summer... at a stretch.
In my first week back at work after the break, I felt more awake, more alert... My concentration was better, my memory was clearer... Things just seemed to click into place more easily, and I got more done than even I'd expected.
At work, that is.
But now, a week after returning, I've entered the 'unfulfilling' period of my current temping run. The more interesting job didn't book me quickly enough, so the less interesting job has me for three or four days a week until Christmas. On the upside - or so I thought - I'd be training their newbie and setting some ads for their next big project. On the downside, what's happened is that their newbie is getting sent on a proper training course (though I'm to supplement her learning) and the ads were set by the Sub-Editors in the few days I was at the other job between last week and today... So my workload has only risen marginally, and what little extra I have to do is mind-numbing.
Funnily, my colleague at the other job, suggested to me yesterday that I should ask to be released from the unfulfilling job because she'd definitely have interesting work for me... and then, today, one of the managers at the unfulfilling job asked about the possibility of dragging me in for extra days if needed. I can't ask to be released because they firmly believe I'll be busy (sending emails, making phone calls, filing copy... Blah... I could do most of it with my eyes closed) and, while I don't believe I'll be at all busy, I can see the need for someone to be there monitoring copy. I can't accept extra days from them because the other place has already booked them till the end of the year.
Thankfully, the early part of next year is looking more interesting... a final three days at the unfulfilling job, then three months of the fun job (completing what would have been a twelve month maternity cover contract were it not for silly political machinations which have since been backpeddled some way)...
There's a lot more to be said... but it's late, and I'm going to get some kip now...
Thursday 25 October 2012
Frustrating...
One thing that's absolutely guaranteed to aggravate me is when people only want to take responsibility for certain aspects of their job. Let's say, for example, a Designer who will readily accept praise when it's given, but who will deny any involvement in something that didn't go down so well.
Or a Salesperson who instructs me to send proofs of an advertisement to them, so they can send them on to the client, only to later ask me if I had explained something to that client, or given them a clear deadline, or whatever.
Like today... Or, more accurately, last week, which is when I emailed a particular set of proofs to the Salesperson, as requested. I should mention that I object to this procedure on principle. At best, it's the cause of delays (Salesperson not in the office to react to client's emailed response, for example). At worst, it's simply stupid and obstructive. The salespeople have all been told that the Production Co-ordinator should deal with anything relating to Production - copy chasing, proofing, sign-off, and final upload to the Printers. And yet, last week, a client sent artwork to their salesperson which was obviously a bit duff. It was forwarded to me, I took a look at it and, as I have been doing for nigh-on twenty years, I fixed it.
But the Salesperson asked me to send proofs to her, specifically because it was her client and he wasn't 'technically savvy'. Kinda the whole point of my role is to communicate technical matters clearly with just that kind of person. When I'm asked to leave it to a Salesperson, and I have to listen to them spouting crap at a client who is already confused, my blood starts to boil. Worse still, when they start introducing out-of-context jargon that they've overheard and obviously don't understand. That just makes a confused person even more confused.
But when, a week later, that same Salesperson asks me if I explained something to a client, and adds "It's always helpful if you do that...", no-one should blame me for pointing out - loudly, so that her boss can hear (if, indeed, she's paying attention) - that, no, I didn't explain anything to the client... I've had no contact with the client because they asked me to send the proofs to them, not the client.
This particular Salesperson is full of this kind of crap. Just about every day, she's on the receiving end of exactly that kind of question about her sales calls to clients, and just about every day there's an important point of procedure she's ignored... like neglecting to tell a client whose account has been frozen that they'll have to pre-pay (or settle their account) if they want to advertise.
What makes it laughable is that she's always telling everyone else how to do their jobs, how to make complaints to their bank, or their landlords, or their boss. Oh so full of advice that she never follows, brimming with knowledge of procedures she never adheres to.
Several of the Salespeople at this one place I'm working are terrible, one way or another, and their internal communication is ridiculous... But this one in particular is very vocal in her complaints about all the others - behind their backs, of course.
I can't believe I almost seriously considered wanting to work in that place full-time. The other place isn't without its problems, but at least the work is diverting enough that I'm not constantly seeing/hearing/being subjected to them.
Or a Salesperson who instructs me to send proofs of an advertisement to them, so they can send them on to the client, only to later ask me if I had explained something to that client, or given them a clear deadline, or whatever.
Like today... Or, more accurately, last week, which is when I emailed a particular set of proofs to the Salesperson, as requested. I should mention that I object to this procedure on principle. At best, it's the cause of delays (Salesperson not in the office to react to client's emailed response, for example). At worst, it's simply stupid and obstructive. The salespeople have all been told that the Production Co-ordinator should deal with anything relating to Production - copy chasing, proofing, sign-off, and final upload to the Printers. And yet, last week, a client sent artwork to their salesperson which was obviously a bit duff. It was forwarded to me, I took a look at it and, as I have been doing for nigh-on twenty years, I fixed it.
But the Salesperson asked me to send proofs to her, specifically because it was her client and he wasn't 'technically savvy'. Kinda the whole point of my role is to communicate technical matters clearly with just that kind of person. When I'm asked to leave it to a Salesperson, and I have to listen to them spouting crap at a client who is already confused, my blood starts to boil. Worse still, when they start introducing out-of-context jargon that they've overheard and obviously don't understand. That just makes a confused person even more confused.
But when, a week later, that same Salesperson asks me if I explained something to a client, and adds "It's always helpful if you do that...", no-one should blame me for pointing out - loudly, so that her boss can hear (if, indeed, she's paying attention) - that, no, I didn't explain anything to the client... I've had no contact with the client because they asked me to send the proofs to them, not the client.
This particular Salesperson is full of this kind of crap. Just about every day, she's on the receiving end of exactly that kind of question about her sales calls to clients, and just about every day there's an important point of procedure she's ignored... like neglecting to tell a client whose account has been frozen that they'll have to pre-pay (or settle their account) if they want to advertise.
What makes it laughable is that she's always telling everyone else how to do their jobs, how to make complaints to their bank, or their landlords, or their boss. Oh so full of advice that she never follows, brimming with knowledge of procedures she never adheres to.
Several of the Salespeople at this one place I'm working are terrible, one way or another, and their internal communication is ridiculous... But this one in particular is very vocal in her complaints about all the others - behind their backs, of course.
I can't believe I almost seriously considered wanting to work in that place full-time. The other place isn't without its problems, but at least the work is diverting enough that I'm not constantly seeing/hearing/being subjected to them.
Sunday 21 October 2012
Six Years On
It only occurred to me quite recently to check when this blog started, and prepare something special to post, so I marked this date on my calendar as the 6th Anniversary of //ƒuƶƶy[løgic] and intended to come up with something profound and fitting of this most auspicious occasion.
Naturally, that which I laughingly refer to as 'real life' got in the way and so, gentle reader, this is all you're going to get.
//ƒuƶƶy[løgic] started for two main reasons:
Even so, learning from my experiences, I tended not to speak about my blog. I've kept to a fairly strict 'no names' policy except in very general instances and only a very few close friends and family know anything about this blog, while I'll chat about the others quite freely. No links between this and those, either - they're not even the same account. Even so, the very fact that I know that a few people I know 'in real life' can (and sometimes do) read this, does tend to lead to some self-censorship on matters I consider truly private.
Over the years, this blog has followed my rather skewed view of things, from complaining about my old job and the foolish people I worked with there, to the shock of being made redundant - that announcement coming a full nine months before the final departure - and on through my ongoing experiences of being out of full-time work, temping very rarely through 2011 and rather more frequently this year. It's covered the movies I've seen, videogames I've played, the events I've attended, family Christmasses, days spent in isolation, experiments in photography, weird dreams, and even a few things that only happened in my head when I've had 'flu.
Back in 2008, I bought a home of my own - a flat - with a good chunk of my savings as deposit, and a correspondingly more manageable mortgage. Since then, I've had many conversations with the Managing Agents about the leaking roof and the effects it's been having on my ceilings (and my ability to sleep) and, finally, after about four years, the landlord last week agreed to pay for the entire main roof to be replaced. I should mention that this is a year after I received notification of the intention to replace the first floor (balcony) roof, which still hasn't happened, and would have been of no benefit to me if it had. All it took to convince the landlord was the suggestion that his tenants and leaseholders could take legal action against him for (a) negligence, in not maintaining the roof and (b) any damage to their property coming as a direct result of that negligence. And it's been several months since that suggestion was first put to him. Some people, eh?
Moving out of home was a pretty big deal... I still think that, had circumstances been different, I might still have been living with my folks today. Certainly, one of my friends is still looking for 'the perfect place' - aiming for a maisonette or house, which will be bought with help from his parents - rather than 'settling', as I have done, for an easily affordable and reasonably spacious flat which is conveniently located for transport links, and has an awesome view from the front door/kitchen.
I guess, in part, the reluctance to fly the nest comes from the fact that I didn't go to university, so I had no experience of living away from home and family. I also have no experience of cohabiting, except briefly (on holidays, for example) so the idea of moving into a flatshare, or any situation where I was not the sole occupant of a property, was rather repellent... and yet I'm not such a hermit that I wanted to be completely isolated from friends and family. Obviously I still have the long-term goal of having a family of my own, but that seems ever less likely as years go by.
Thankfully, my sister had a daughter a few years ago, so I get to play 'Cool Uncle' and teach her all kinds of things that her mother will disapprove of. I'm still considering my strategy for getting her into TransFormers. I get the impression I'm the favourite Uncle but, all things considered, the competition ain't exactly strong.
The weird thing is, having a niece is simultaneously making me more broody and less broody. Moreso because - as I've been told for many years, and by many people - I do think I'd make a pretty good father, and the idea of raising a child, while daunting, is very appealing. Less so because, through my sister's experiences of motherhood, I'm getting a more detailed picture of how difficult it all is... and there's all the background stuff of "would I really want to bring up a child in a world like today's?" In many ways, it just seems unfair.
This blog has also recorded the death of one of my Grandmothers, and occasionally touched on the slow decay, through Alzheimer's, of the other. Both Grandfathers passed away many years ago (one before I was born), so these changes have been very strange. The former was a rather old-fashioned, well-travelled powerhouse, the latter was more friendly and outwardly lively. Now, I strongly feel the absence of the former, and ache as I see the latter becoming bitter and spiteful as her memory both fails and deceives her.
I can look back at my old posts and not recognise the writer. I recall the events well enough, but I don't recall the emotions attached in quite the same way. In much the same way that I can dimly recall the events I wrote about in my primary/middle school "What I Did at the Weekend" essays, the tone of the writing seems strangely alien. Have I really changed that much in recent years?
Of course I have, if I really think about it. Only a while ago, I met up with a former colleague, and bent her ear for about three hours - asking about her life plans, comparing our experiences of the jobs we've held since leaving our former common employer, generally shooting the breeze with her... I probably talked more in those three hours than in total, for all the years we'd worked together... and it only hit me weeks later that I'd actually seen surprise and bemusement on her face, but just didn't associate it with any changes in myself.
My folks observed that, at a certain point early in my schooling, I suddenly became quieter and more insular, though this eased off over the years... it was only a few years ago (relatively speaking) that I started really building up walls between myself and the outside world - most specifically with regards to my workplace. I've often surprised people by referring to "the office" and "the real world" as two very separate environments, but I've never quite understood why they find that so surprising.
And, even now, while I'm certainly chattier and more personable in my temping roles (my enthusiasm for the work is frequently commented upon), I'm still reluctant to get too personal, to be especially open, with the people I'm working with. I'd vowed that, whenever I returned to an office situation, I'd not slip back into the office personality I created for my last full-time job. It was colder and harsher than it really needed to be and, while I wouldn't tend to consider colleagues as friends, the people I work with these days don't tend to be quite such self-absorbed, self-entitled morons. Some of them are actually pretty cool. I don't meet many people who are like me, but I certainly meet more these days that I feel able to converse with on some vaguely meaningful level.
Likewise, while certain events which predate this blog might make me extremely wary of online friendships, I have made other acquaintances online. I guess it's a case of 'lessons learnt'.
I don't have a massive audience with this blog, or a particularly impressive view count... I believe I get about 20 visitors per day at the best of times. A couple of my postings have had significantly more viewers than the rest - the 'all time' top two postings combined account for about10% 20% of the total views this whole blog has had.
And, gratifyingly, the worst that's happened on this blog is that I've had an awful lot of spam comments, which are simply deleted.
I do wish I'd got more fiction writing done... It has been suggested that the idea of "writer's block" is just an excuse trotted out by folk who, like me, can't quite pluck up the courage to write something because of the nagging doubts over its eventual quality, or the 'validity' of the work, even though that's technically beside the point. All I've actually managed, really, is a couple of stories - normally written at the last minute (or later) - which were birthday/Christmas presents for a friend, and the latest one of those is already about half a year overdue.
In my heart, I know all I need to do is plonk my arse on a chair and start typing. The words will come. They may not be right first time, but the point is to write them out, then figure out how to fine-tune.
That isn't really something this blog can help with because, other than the semi-conscious self-censorship, I don't do a great deal of editing or refining. I might pop back into a post and correct formatting or typos, even sometimes insert addenda... but the posts stay largely as they were when I finished spewing my stream of consciousness.
So, to sum up, this blog has been going for six years today. My life has changed almost immeasurably since 2006, mostly for the better. I can't say this blog is a big part of my life because, on balance, it records quite a small slice of it, and I still take some pretty long breaks from blogging every now and then - sometimes because I'm doing other stuff, sometimes because I'm doing absolutely nothing - but it's going to carry on for as long as I enjoy doing it. It's equal parts creative writing and therapy, and it costs nothing but time.
//ƒuƶƶy[løgic] - a perpetual work in progress...
it's kind of like life that way.
Naturally, that which I laughingly refer to as 'real life' got in the way and so, gentle reader, this is all you're going to get.
//ƒuƶƶy[løgic] started for two main reasons:
- My erstwhile cyberstalker was no longer working with me - I'd had a kind of blog (little more than occasional random musings, written up in HTML) on my personal website, and removed it because he'd told people that reading it had become part of his weekend routine... Every Monday morning, when he arrived at work, his first action would be to enquire if I'd updated my website, and it just got creepy after I found out that he'd already know one way or the other... was he just asking in the hope of catching me out? Whatever, he was gone, I was free to start writing personal stuff again without fear that it would be twisted and used against me in my workplace. Even so, rather than reinstate my Ramblings, I figured I should take people's advice and start a blog, and make a rather more concerted effort than I had done with the Ramblings.
- I wanted to get back into the habit of writing, with a view to bashing out some stories. This hasn't been entirely successful - it's still just as hard as ever to concentrate and focus my ideas accurately and effectively enough to generate works of fiction. In these six years, I've only really written a very few stories. But, hey, I'm sort-of writing, sort-of regularly...
Even so, learning from my experiences, I tended not to speak about my blog. I've kept to a fairly strict 'no names' policy except in very general instances and only a very few close friends and family know anything about this blog, while I'll chat about the others quite freely. No links between this and those, either - they're not even the same account. Even so, the very fact that I know that a few people I know 'in real life' can (and sometimes do) read this, does tend to lead to some self-censorship on matters I consider truly private.
Over the years, this blog has followed my rather skewed view of things, from complaining about my old job and the foolish people I worked with there, to the shock of being made redundant - that announcement coming a full nine months before the final departure - and on through my ongoing experiences of being out of full-time work, temping very rarely through 2011 and rather more frequently this year. It's covered the movies I've seen, videogames I've played, the events I've attended, family Christmasses, days spent in isolation, experiments in photography, weird dreams, and even a few things that only happened in my head when I've had 'flu.
Back in 2008, I bought a home of my own - a flat - with a good chunk of my savings as deposit, and a correspondingly more manageable mortgage. Since then, I've had many conversations with the Managing Agents about the leaking roof and the effects it's been having on my ceilings (and my ability to sleep) and, finally, after about four years, the landlord last week agreed to pay for the entire main roof to be replaced. I should mention that this is a year after I received notification of the intention to replace the first floor (balcony) roof, which still hasn't happened, and would have been of no benefit to me if it had. All it took to convince the landlord was the suggestion that his tenants and leaseholders could take legal action against him for (a) negligence, in not maintaining the roof and (b) any damage to their property coming as a direct result of that negligence. And it's been several months since that suggestion was first put to him. Some people, eh?
Moving out of home was a pretty big deal... I still think that, had circumstances been different, I might still have been living with my folks today. Certainly, one of my friends is still looking for 'the perfect place' - aiming for a maisonette or house, which will be bought with help from his parents - rather than 'settling', as I have done, for an easily affordable and reasonably spacious flat which is conveniently located for transport links, and has an awesome view from the front door/kitchen.
I guess, in part, the reluctance to fly the nest comes from the fact that I didn't go to university, so I had no experience of living away from home and family. I also have no experience of cohabiting, except briefly (on holidays, for example) so the idea of moving into a flatshare, or any situation where I was not the sole occupant of a property, was rather repellent... and yet I'm not such a hermit that I wanted to be completely isolated from friends and family. Obviously I still have the long-term goal of having a family of my own, but that seems ever less likely as years go by.
Thankfully, my sister had a daughter a few years ago, so I get to play 'Cool Uncle' and teach her all kinds of things that her mother will disapprove of. I'm still considering my strategy for getting her into TransFormers. I get the impression I'm the favourite Uncle but, all things considered, the competition ain't exactly strong.
The weird thing is, having a niece is simultaneously making me more broody and less broody. Moreso because - as I've been told for many years, and by many people - I do think I'd make a pretty good father, and the idea of raising a child, while daunting, is very appealing. Less so because, through my sister's experiences of motherhood, I'm getting a more detailed picture of how difficult it all is... and there's all the background stuff of "would I really want to bring up a child in a world like today's?" In many ways, it just seems unfair.
This blog has also recorded the death of one of my Grandmothers, and occasionally touched on the slow decay, through Alzheimer's, of the other. Both Grandfathers passed away many years ago (one before I was born), so these changes have been very strange. The former was a rather old-fashioned, well-travelled powerhouse, the latter was more friendly and outwardly lively. Now, I strongly feel the absence of the former, and ache as I see the latter becoming bitter and spiteful as her memory both fails and deceives her.
I can look back at my old posts and not recognise the writer. I recall the events well enough, but I don't recall the emotions attached in quite the same way. In much the same way that I can dimly recall the events I wrote about in my primary/middle school "What I Did at the Weekend" essays, the tone of the writing seems strangely alien. Have I really changed that much in recent years?
Of course I have, if I really think about it. Only a while ago, I met up with a former colleague, and bent her ear for about three hours - asking about her life plans, comparing our experiences of the jobs we've held since leaving our former common employer, generally shooting the breeze with her... I probably talked more in those three hours than in total, for all the years we'd worked together... and it only hit me weeks later that I'd actually seen surprise and bemusement on her face, but just didn't associate it with any changes in myself.
My folks observed that, at a certain point early in my schooling, I suddenly became quieter and more insular, though this eased off over the years... it was only a few years ago (relatively speaking) that I started really building up walls between myself and the outside world - most specifically with regards to my workplace. I've often surprised people by referring to "the office" and "the real world" as two very separate environments, but I've never quite understood why they find that so surprising.
And, even now, while I'm certainly chattier and more personable in my temping roles (my enthusiasm for the work is frequently commented upon), I'm still reluctant to get too personal, to be especially open, with the people I'm working with. I'd vowed that, whenever I returned to an office situation, I'd not slip back into the office personality I created for my last full-time job. It was colder and harsher than it really needed to be and, while I wouldn't tend to consider colleagues as friends, the people I work with these days don't tend to be quite such self-absorbed, self-entitled morons. Some of them are actually pretty cool. I don't meet many people who are like me, but I certainly meet more these days that I feel able to converse with on some vaguely meaningful level.
Likewise, while certain events which predate this blog might make me extremely wary of online friendships, I have made other acquaintances online. I guess it's a case of 'lessons learnt'.
I don't have a massive audience with this blog, or a particularly impressive view count... I believe I get about 20 visitors per day at the best of times. A couple of my postings have had significantly more viewers than the rest - the 'all time' top two postings combined account for about
And, gratifyingly, the worst that's happened on this blog is that I've had an awful lot of spam comments, which are simply deleted.
I do wish I'd got more fiction writing done... It has been suggested that the idea of "writer's block" is just an excuse trotted out by folk who, like me, can't quite pluck up the courage to write something because of the nagging doubts over its eventual quality, or the 'validity' of the work, even though that's technically beside the point. All I've actually managed, really, is a couple of stories - normally written at the last minute (or later) - which were birthday/Christmas presents for a friend, and the latest one of those is already about half a year overdue.
In my heart, I know all I need to do is plonk my arse on a chair and start typing. The words will come. They may not be right first time, but the point is to write them out, then figure out how to fine-tune.
That isn't really something this blog can help with because, other than the semi-conscious self-censorship, I don't do a great deal of editing or refining. I might pop back into a post and correct formatting or typos, even sometimes insert addenda... but the posts stay largely as they were when I finished spewing my stream of consciousness.
So, to sum up, this blog has been going for six years today. My life has changed almost immeasurably since 2006, mostly for the better. I can't say this blog is a big part of my life because, on balance, it records quite a small slice of it, and I still take some pretty long breaks from blogging every now and then - sometimes because I'm doing other stuff, sometimes because I'm doing absolutely nothing - but it's going to carry on for as long as I enjoy doing it. It's equal parts creative writing and therapy, and it costs nothing but time.
//ƒuƶƶy[løgic] - a perpetual work in progress...
it's kind of like life that way.
Sunday 14 October 2012
Clear Skies and... Brrrrrrr!
Following neatly on from the last posting, I took another of my shopping trips yesterday. Ostensibly to get myself some light/pale jumpers, as all the ones I have are either dark or red, which can cause laundry issues at the time of year when I most need jumpers. My devious side-quest was to go in search of new TransFormers: Prime figures, since it's now a couple of weeks since I found the Wave 2 Voyagers on sale.
The reason this follows neatly is that the weather while I was out was absolutely fine (up until I started making my way home, when a light drizzle started). Bright, mostly clear skies... but the beginnings of colder weather. Still... good weather can only mean success in shopping, right?
All talk of bonkers superstitions aside... it was indeed a successful trip. I returned home with two new jumpers - though I shall elaborate on that shortly - several pairs of thicker socks, and two new TF: Prime toys, meaning I'm now up-to-date with all the toys I actually want. Not only that, but the two new ones are unbelievably cool. I was feeling lukewarm toward Knock Out because the paint job is so lacking (seriously, if you thought TF: Prime Bumblebee was light on paintwork, Knockout is ridiculous, both in terms of the extent of the paintwork and its show accuracy) but, in hand, the figure is pretty awesome. It helps to see it transformed properly, rather than in the 'not-quite-there, saggy headlight boobs' form in which it appears most frequently online and, even then, it's not without flaws... but it's a great toy, and that's what matters. Vehicon, meanwhile, is a triumph of toy engineering - the way most of the car shell concertinas into the legs, rather than lurking around on his back in robot mode, is quite incredible!
So... The new jumpers...
Something I noticed while out shopping is that jumpers are invariably dark. Those that aren't are either hideous artificial fibre static generators, incredibly expensive forms of wool, or beige. I'm sure I've mentioned somewhere my feelings on beige.
I did find some jumpers in a sort of minty green but, since I own precisely nothing that would go with a jumper of that colour, I felt it best to move along. No way am I going to fork out for a whole new wardrobe just to match or complement one new jumper.
What I got was one sky/duck egg blue jumper and one in light grey that has that fake-shirt-collar thing. Haven't tried them on yet because I'm about to put my lights into the laundry, but the time will come soon enough.
In other news, it appears that I am now, effectively, in full-time employment until January, and one of my two regular employers is still in discussions about keeping me on after that for an additional few months. Since these are the same folks who procrastinated about putting me on a 12-month contract because they were closing down one of the titles I was working on, I'm not holding out much hope. That said, the title they closed is now back in operation... but only in digital form. Having decided to ditch the magazine completely, they've relaunched it as a (freely?) downloadable PDF title with the same production values as the print version. In fact, the process of putting the magazine together is essentially identical - the only difference is that the final PDFs are never sent to a Printworks.
Backpeddling, anyone?
Still, though it may appear to be a ray of hope, there are so many variables in the equation that it's just not worth getting excited about.
The best bit of news I've had in a while is that I've been able to transfer some money back into my savings. Only two grand so far (compared to the approximately ten grand I had to siphon off over the last 12 months), but it's a start... and it's a good start...
The reason this follows neatly is that the weather while I was out was absolutely fine (up until I started making my way home, when a light drizzle started). Bright, mostly clear skies... but the beginnings of colder weather. Still... good weather can only mean success in shopping, right?
All talk of bonkers superstitions aside... it was indeed a successful trip. I returned home with two new jumpers - though I shall elaborate on that shortly - several pairs of thicker socks, and two new TF: Prime toys, meaning I'm now up-to-date with all the toys I actually want. Not only that, but the two new ones are unbelievably cool. I was feeling lukewarm toward Knock Out because the paint job is so lacking (seriously, if you thought TF: Prime Bumblebee was light on paintwork, Knockout is ridiculous, both in terms of the extent of the paintwork and its show accuracy) but, in hand, the figure is pretty awesome. It helps to see it transformed properly, rather than in the 'not-quite-there, saggy headlight boobs' form in which it appears most frequently online and, even then, it's not without flaws... but it's a great toy, and that's what matters. Vehicon, meanwhile, is a triumph of toy engineering - the way most of the car shell concertinas into the legs, rather than lurking around on his back in robot mode, is quite incredible!
So... The new jumpers...
Something I noticed while out shopping is that jumpers are invariably dark. Those that aren't are either hideous artificial fibre static generators, incredibly expensive forms of wool, or beige. I'm sure I've mentioned somewhere my feelings on beige.
I did find some jumpers in a sort of minty green but, since I own precisely nothing that would go with a jumper of that colour, I felt it best to move along. No way am I going to fork out for a whole new wardrobe just to match or complement one new jumper.
What I got was one sky/duck egg blue jumper and one in light grey that has that fake-shirt-collar thing. Haven't tried them on yet because I'm about to put my lights into the laundry, but the time will come soon enough.
In other news, it appears that I am now, effectively, in full-time employment until January, and one of my two regular employers is still in discussions about keeping me on after that for an additional few months. Since these are the same folks who procrastinated about putting me on a 12-month contract because they were closing down one of the titles I was working on, I'm not holding out much hope. That said, the title they closed is now back in operation... but only in digital form. Having decided to ditch the magazine completely, they've relaunched it as a (freely?) downloadable PDF title with the same production values as the print version. In fact, the process of putting the magazine together is essentially identical - the only difference is that the final PDFs are never sent to a Printworks.
Backpeddling, anyone?
Still, though it may appear to be a ray of hope, there are so many variables in the equation that it's just not worth getting excited about.
The best bit of news I've had in a while is that I've been able to transfer some money back into my savings. Only two grand so far (compared to the approximately ten grand I had to siphon off over the last 12 months), but it's a start... and it's a good start...
Monday 24 September 2012
Weather Warning
Over the last couple of years - while I've had a bit more spare time on my hands - I've noticed something odd. Every so often, on a whim, I decide to take a shopping trip. Whether I'm after something specific, or just hoping to find something new in the toy aisles, the results of the journey can be accurately predicted by the troubles I encounter along the way.
For example, if the journey is beset by traffic jams, signal failures or, in particular, bad weather, chances are I'm not going to find what I'm looking for.
It's just coincidence, obviously, but it really does happen every time. One particular route (or set of routes) I take fairly regularly is the one that gets me to Brent Cross Toys'R'Us and/or from there to the Friern Bridge branch of Smyths. On that route, there have been occasions where the journey was an absolute dream, and there have been occasions when there are freak traffic problems (OK, I'm talking about the North Circular here, so freakish traffic is pretty much par for the course... what I mean is more freakish than normal), and occasions where a perfectly pleasant, sunny day suddenly turns and becomes progressively stormier as I go. Thing is, by the time it starts getting bad, I'm pretty much committed to the journey, so part of me is basically just accepting it as punishment for my poor decision-making.
Making it all the weirder, it is often the case that whatever problems there are on the way out, things improve either on the way back home, or when I switch to a more productive destination.
Take today, for example - the weekend became stormy, this morning was pretty crummy, and it wasn't looking much better when I left work (early - only a half day today!). Nevertheless, since I'd received the Smyths catalogue on Saturday, and since it looked as though there might be new stuff on the shelves, I decided to pay them a visit. While I was on the train in the afternoon, the weather seemed to improve... as far as Brent Cross. From then on, the wind rose and the clouds started returning. Lo, and behold, they had precisely nothing new (that I was interested in). Unperturbed, I walked down to the nearby Tesco... the wind was still high, but the sun was coming out again... and I found one of the things I was looking for.
On the way back home, I stopped off at Brent Cross TRU because I'd recently received a book of their vouchers. Wouldn't you know it, they had even more new stuff (strangely located only at the front of the shop - the regular shelves at the back featured the same - months old - stock). Technically, I didn't spend much more money that needed - only one extra bus fare because of the stop-off on the way home - but I could have saved myself time and strife in the journey... though I wouldn't have got everything I ended up with today.
Swings and roundabouts...
For example, if the journey is beset by traffic jams, signal failures or, in particular, bad weather, chances are I'm not going to find what I'm looking for.
It's just coincidence, obviously, but it really does happen every time. One particular route (or set of routes) I take fairly regularly is the one that gets me to Brent Cross Toys'R'Us and/or from there to the Friern Bridge branch of Smyths. On that route, there have been occasions where the journey was an absolute dream, and there have been occasions when there are freak traffic problems (OK, I'm talking about the North Circular here, so freakish traffic is pretty much par for the course... what I mean is more freakish than normal), and occasions where a perfectly pleasant, sunny day suddenly turns and becomes progressively stormier as I go. Thing is, by the time it starts getting bad, I'm pretty much committed to the journey, so part of me is basically just accepting it as punishment for my poor decision-making.
Making it all the weirder, it is often the case that whatever problems there are on the way out, things improve either on the way back home, or when I switch to a more productive destination.
Take today, for example - the weekend became stormy, this morning was pretty crummy, and it wasn't looking much better when I left work (early - only a half day today!). Nevertheless, since I'd received the Smyths catalogue on Saturday, and since it looked as though there might be new stuff on the shelves, I decided to pay them a visit. While I was on the train in the afternoon, the weather seemed to improve... as far as Brent Cross. From then on, the wind rose and the clouds started returning. Lo, and behold, they had precisely nothing new (that I was interested in). Unperturbed, I walked down to the nearby Tesco... the wind was still high, but the sun was coming out again... and I found one of the things I was looking for.
On the way back home, I stopped off at Brent Cross TRU because I'd recently received a book of their vouchers. Wouldn't you know it, they had even more new stuff (strangely located only at the front of the shop - the regular shelves at the back featured the same - months old - stock). Technically, I didn't spend much more money that needed - only one extra bus fare because of the stop-off on the way home - but I could have saved myself time and strife in the journey... though I wouldn't have got everything I ended up with today.
Swings and roundabouts...
Sunday 23 September 2012
Dredd Tidings
I'm actually a little surprised that I forgot all about this last weekend: I went to see Dredd 3D, a new film based around the main player from zarjaz Brit-comic 2000AD, Judge Dredd.
What reminded me to correct this failure was that the 1995 Stallone movie (very) loosely based on the same character just happened to be on TV tonight. I believe I saw it on video (or possibly on TV)... at least, I'm fairly certain I didn't see that abomination on the big screen... either way, I've seen it once before and, aside from refreshing my memory for the sake of comparison, there really was no reason to watch it again.
Which is to say, there was no reason at all to watch it again, because there's no comparison.
The '95 movie was a waste of celluloid on many levels, not least that Stallone - either through personal ego or studio interference - only wore the helmet for about 20 minutes of the film, while the whole point of the character was that he was a faceless instrument of extreme law. In many ways, it was typical of action flicks, and particularly superhero/comic book flicks around that time, in that it missed the point of the source material and presented itself as a big blockbuster. There were interesting elements - such as Judge Rico, a man even more extreme in his interpretation of the law that Dredd, who turns his back on any concept of justice and then decides to create an army of clones to replace the Judges - but, by and large, the story bore little or no relation to the comics. It appeared to be a 'scene-setting' movie, intended to launch a franchise... but no follow-ups were ever made.
Probably a good thing... if only because it meant Dredd 3D didn't have to work as hard to cast off any lingering memories of that original travesty.
The new movie - starring Karl Urban, who keeps his helmet on all the way through (aside from the very beginning, when you see his silhouette putting the helmet on) - has apparently suffered by comparison to an Indonesian film from last year, called The Raid. Not having seen that film, I took Dredd 3D on its own merits... and kinda liked it, with reservations.
I hadn't realised beforehand that it had been classified as Cert-18 in the UK - partly, I guess, because I just couldn't believe that anyone would make a proper, grown-up film based on a comic, particularly in the light of the poor reception of the 'grown-up' version of Marvel's The Punisher. What I walked into was a bloodbath worthy of a horror movie. Strangely, even the Slo-Mo sequences, where the violence was rendered in intricate detail, weren't especially disturbing because they weren't particularly believable. Movie violence is fake - everyone knows that - but it works because it's done as sleight-of-hand. Slow it down, and all you see is obvious CGI trickery.
On the flipside, the sequences featuring trainee Judge Anderson 'interrogating' a suspect went a lot further and got a lot nastier than I'd expected. I can't say it was a pleasant surprise, even in the context, but it was impressive, and a very bold bit of movie-making.
There wasn't a whole lot of plot to it, but the idea behind the movie was to reintroduce Dredd and Megacity One through the eyes of a young rookie, following Dredd on a 'normal day'. This rookie just happens to be the mutant long-time fans of 2000AD will know as Psi-Judge Cassandra Anderson. Considering the way Anderson is portrayed in the comics, I wasn't too sure about Olivia Thirlby (she's not exactly a blonde bombshell) but, having seen the film now, I think she was a brilliant choice. Having her as the emotional core of the film, and following her arc rather than Dredd's, was another brilliant choice.
Also, where the '95 movie featured a pointless comedy sidekick (OK, he was intended to facilitate Dredd's 'emotional journey' through the film - a joke in itself), Dredd 3D is largely dark and humourless, though not entirely without comic relief - it's just minimal and better placed.
As a starting point, Dredd 3D was excellent, but it does suffer the malady of virtually every 'first chapter' movie - it doesn't really go anywhere. Let's just hope this one does turn into a franchise, because this interpretation of Dredd and his world is very deserving of further exploration.
What reminded me to correct this failure was that the 1995 Stallone movie (very) loosely based on the same character just happened to be on TV tonight. I believe I saw it on video (or possibly on TV)... at least, I'm fairly certain I didn't see that abomination on the big screen... either way, I've seen it once before and, aside from refreshing my memory for the sake of comparison, there really was no reason to watch it again.
Which is to say, there was no reason at all to watch it again, because there's no comparison.
The '95 movie was a waste of celluloid on many levels, not least that Stallone - either through personal ego or studio interference - only wore the helmet for about 20 minutes of the film, while the whole point of the character was that he was a faceless instrument of extreme law. In many ways, it was typical of action flicks, and particularly superhero/comic book flicks around that time, in that it missed the point of the source material and presented itself as a big blockbuster. There were interesting elements - such as Judge Rico, a man even more extreme in his interpretation of the law that Dredd, who turns his back on any concept of justice and then decides to create an army of clones to replace the Judges - but, by and large, the story bore little or no relation to the comics. It appeared to be a 'scene-setting' movie, intended to launch a franchise... but no follow-ups were ever made.
Probably a good thing... if only because it meant Dredd 3D didn't have to work as hard to cast off any lingering memories of that original travesty.
The new movie - starring Karl Urban, who keeps his helmet on all the way through (aside from the very beginning, when you see his silhouette putting the helmet on) - has apparently suffered by comparison to an Indonesian film from last year, called The Raid. Not having seen that film, I took Dredd 3D on its own merits... and kinda liked it, with reservations.
I hadn't realised beforehand that it had been classified as Cert-18 in the UK - partly, I guess, because I just couldn't believe that anyone would make a proper, grown-up film based on a comic, particularly in the light of the poor reception of the 'grown-up' version of Marvel's The Punisher. What I walked into was a bloodbath worthy of a horror movie. Strangely, even the Slo-Mo sequences, where the violence was rendered in intricate detail, weren't especially disturbing because they weren't particularly believable. Movie violence is fake - everyone knows that - but it works because it's done as sleight-of-hand. Slow it down, and all you see is obvious CGI trickery.
On the flipside, the sequences featuring trainee Judge Anderson 'interrogating' a suspect went a lot further and got a lot nastier than I'd expected. I can't say it was a pleasant surprise, even in the context, but it was impressive, and a very bold bit of movie-making.
There wasn't a whole lot of plot to it, but the idea behind the movie was to reintroduce Dredd and Megacity One through the eyes of a young rookie, following Dredd on a 'normal day'. This rookie just happens to be the mutant long-time fans of 2000AD will know as Psi-Judge Cassandra Anderson. Considering the way Anderson is portrayed in the comics, I wasn't too sure about Olivia Thirlby (she's not exactly a blonde bombshell) but, having seen the film now, I think she was a brilliant choice. Having her as the emotional core of the film, and following her arc rather than Dredd's, was another brilliant choice.
Also, where the '95 movie featured a pointless comedy sidekick (OK, he was intended to facilitate Dredd's 'emotional journey' through the film - a joke in itself), Dredd 3D is largely dark and humourless, though not entirely without comic relief - it's just minimal and better placed.
As a starting point, Dredd 3D was excellent, but it does suffer the malady of virtually every 'first chapter' movie - it doesn't really go anywhere. Let's just hope this one does turn into a franchise, because this interpretation of Dredd and his world is very deserving of further exploration.
Continuing 'Gainful' Employment
It is at once heartening and frustrating that I worked yet another full week (at two different jobs) last week. Heartening because, hey, validation: I'm a workaholic (according to my GP), and going into an office for a day of work proves (to me) that I am a worthwhile person. Being praised for that work reinforces that proof, and being called back repeatedly pretty much cements it.
Settling in to two jobs is proving tricky but, let's face it, I've only been trying for two weeks. Surely it's to be expected that I'd wake up on Thursday unsure as to which job I'd be heading to, then wake up on Friday convinced it was Saturday (switched my alarm off at about 5.30am, but thankfully realised my mistake and switched it back on again before drifting back to sleep) only to go to bed convinced it was only Thursday, and that I'd have to wake up for work the next morning.
I am actually going back to regular job number two on Monday, though. Pretty sure that'll be the last day for a while, but who can tell..? I'm starting to think they're calling me back just for my reassuring presence.
Yes, I really just said that.
Not sure I believe it, though...
...Even though I have had emails from one of my part-time-colleagues saying how much they miss me on the two days I'm not available, or the day after they (reluctantly) admit that there's not really enough work to make my presence worthwhile for the time being.
Last week was also notable in that I was providing holiday cover for the person I'd normally be working with... So I was all alone, working on a table of mostly Salespeople... finishing off projects (a) on a ridiculously tight time-scale because people naturally only get their shit together at the last minute and (b) which had be started by this other person. Point 'a' is simple enough - just a case of assigning priorities (or having priorities assigned) and approaching the work logically. Point 'b' is frustrating to me because other people - even in the same line of work as me, with a similar approach to the work, and a similar work ethic - don't tend to do things the way I'd do them and, consequently, I waste far too much time getting my head around the way a template has been designed before actually getting to work on the document.
Combine point 'a' and point 'b', and things get a little more complicated. Then factor in that some of the Salespeople want 'design input', and even this new, laid-back me is itching to give someone a slap.
I've probably written at length about the creative pretensions of some of the Salespeople I've worked with over the years, so it honestly came as no surprise... All that really happened, last week, is that I was thrown into it without my usual buffer, sitting between me and the Salespeople. And here's how that went...
Day 1: Started work on the most logical 'first job' - one of the two most urgent tasks, and the only one of the two for which I had all the necessary materials. Salesperson for 'the other most urgent task' sees this, as starts complaining bitterly that I should be working on her stuff. She asks when I want the text for her document, and whether she should feed it to me piecemeal. I express a preference for the whole thing in one hit (that tends to make it easier to actually complete the task in one sitting). "That'll take about an hour," says she, as if that should present a problem. I shrug my acceptance. Further complaining occurs later, as she insists that I'm there on this day because she's paying for my presence out of her budget, and that her colleague (on the project I'd begun the day with) had only booked me for the second day. This is factually inaccurate: I was booked for both days on Monday, and the necessity for my presence was only discussed with the other Salesperson, not the one who was complaining. Text for her second document materialised mid-to-late afternoon. Heated debate with this most vocal Salesperson over the 'design' of one of her documents because she changes her mind about what she wants every time I present proofs to be checked. She says things like "I want it to look designed", but cheerfully admits that she can't be bothered to explain what that means. Helpfully gives examples of how she wants it to look like... a different example in response to every batch of proofs. Several projects were completed, including the most pressing document for the whinge-bag.
Day 2: Again, started working on the most logical 'first job' - specifically the tail end of the last thing I'd got to on Day 1. Whinge-bag still trying to dominate my time, but no longer discussing who's paying for my time. Major clash for time between her third(!) document and her colleague's second despite spending most of the day on her stuff and fitting in bits and bobs of her colleagues in the lulls (and over lunch). Amendments palmed off on another salesperson because her time was far too precious. Later reconsidered, much to my frustration. She speaks in terms of implied reverence for Design/Designers, yet in a tone of absolute contempt... And only at the very end of the day does she notice an important aspect of the base template - which has informed much of the layout thusfar: the artwork is offset from the centre of the page, and has wider borders at the top/left than it does bottom/right. Insists that she wants it centred, despite the fact that the base template - designed by the woman I'm covering - must have been approved at least two days ago. At about 5.30, I start to adjust the template and refit the document accordingly. At precisely 5.35, she asks if it's ready yet... and I'm forced to point out that I'm basically having to re-do the layout of every page. Meanwhile, her less obnoxious colleague is insisting that some progress be made on her next most important task. I've done some, I show that to her and make some minor adjustments on the fly, agreeing to do most of the actual 'design' - the fitting and styling - on Monday. Finalise the mouthy one's third document, and prepare print versions and email versions. Email them to three relevant people around the table, then have to explain what the difference is, despite adding explanatory suffixes to the filenames ('_print.pdf' and '_email.pdf' are not self-explanatory enough? The difference in filesize (approx 700k versus about 6Mb) doesn't offer a clue?).
My favourite part of these two days was when Ms. Precious, while complaining about the look of one of her projects, said "I know you're not a designer, but... You're not a designer, are you?"... to the guy who has, thusfar, designed reports, show guides, badges and advertisements for this company.
I know, I pretty much ask for that kind of thing to happen by steadfastly denying that I'm a designer...
I don't sell myself as a designer because that's not my skill-set. For most of my working life, I've been fixing the mistakes designers make... This has enabled me to work as a designer and, to some extent/in some respects, better than many people who do sell themselves as designers.
Ever the diplomat, I sneered slightly, and said "I've doubled as a designer..."
It only gets worse when I spend time on the job as it was specified to me, point out a lack of text for certain sections, and only then learn that those sections are being dropped because the whinge-bag "got bored typing, couldn't be bothered finishing it off, and so decided not to offer those this year."
Classy, huh?
Had a friend over today, to show off some of the big Wii games from the last year or so. He was most interested in seeing Pandora's Tower and Project Zero 2, but I did manage to squeeze in some of The Last Story as well. He'd actually traded in his own Wii for a Kindle, reminding me how weird I am for never trading in or otherwise disposing of my old hardware. Aside from my Wii and PC, I have a Sega Saturn and Sam Coupé (which are still occasionally used), an Atari Jaguar, an Amiga, and miscellaneous other bits and bobs that are hidden away. He also brought his Nintendo 3DS, and showed off Kid Icarus, which plays kind of like a souped-up Space Harrier (or Sin & Punishment)... The 3D effect works particularly well in the flight sections, but it does get tiring for the eyes. Didn't actually get a great deal of game-playing done because I was rabbiting for the first hour or so of his visit, and showing off some of the documents I've designed and laid out in their final printed form... all of which look pretty darned good...
And then, to round off this post, a brief mention of this week's Doctor Who... possibly the most satisfying of this group of five 'movie-style' episodes (so far), even though it very much left me wanting more - all these odd little details that were glossed over, and it felt as though this was the first proper lead-in to what might happen later in the series. Quite intriguing stuff... and certainly the most truly movie-like of the episodes so far. Last week's was good... but still didn't quite live up to the 'movie-like' hype the BBC have been spinning about this group.
Settling in to two jobs is proving tricky but, let's face it, I've only been trying for two weeks. Surely it's to be expected that I'd wake up on Thursday unsure as to which job I'd be heading to, then wake up on Friday convinced it was Saturday (switched my alarm off at about 5.30am, but thankfully realised my mistake and switched it back on again before drifting back to sleep) only to go to bed convinced it was only Thursday, and that I'd have to wake up for work the next morning.
I am actually going back to regular job number two on Monday, though. Pretty sure that'll be the last day for a while, but who can tell..? I'm starting to think they're calling me back just for my reassuring presence.
Yes, I really just said that.
Not sure I believe it, though...
...Even though I have had emails from one of my part-time-colleagues saying how much they miss me on the two days I'm not available, or the day after they (reluctantly) admit that there's not really enough work to make my presence worthwhile for the time being.
Last week was also notable in that I was providing holiday cover for the person I'd normally be working with... So I was all alone, working on a table of mostly Salespeople... finishing off projects (a) on a ridiculously tight time-scale because people naturally only get their shit together at the last minute and (b) which had be started by this other person. Point 'a' is simple enough - just a case of assigning priorities (or having priorities assigned) and approaching the work logically. Point 'b' is frustrating to me because other people - even in the same line of work as me, with a similar approach to the work, and a similar work ethic - don't tend to do things the way I'd do them and, consequently, I waste far too much time getting my head around the way a template has been designed before actually getting to work on the document.
Combine point 'a' and point 'b', and things get a little more complicated. Then factor in that some of the Salespeople want 'design input', and even this new, laid-back me is itching to give someone a slap.
I've probably written at length about the creative pretensions of some of the Salespeople I've worked with over the years, so it honestly came as no surprise... All that really happened, last week, is that I was thrown into it without my usual buffer, sitting between me and the Salespeople. And here's how that went...
Day 1: Started work on the most logical 'first job' - one of the two most urgent tasks, and the only one of the two for which I had all the necessary materials. Salesperson for 'the other most urgent task' sees this, as starts complaining bitterly that I should be working on her stuff. She asks when I want the text for her document, and whether she should feed it to me piecemeal. I express a preference for the whole thing in one hit (that tends to make it easier to actually complete the task in one sitting). "That'll take about an hour," says she, as if that should present a problem. I shrug my acceptance. Further complaining occurs later, as she insists that I'm there on this day because she's paying for my presence out of her budget, and that her colleague (on the project I'd begun the day with) had only booked me for the second day. This is factually inaccurate: I was booked for both days on Monday, and the necessity for my presence was only discussed with the other Salesperson, not the one who was complaining. Text for her second document materialised mid-to-late afternoon. Heated debate with this most vocal Salesperson over the 'design' of one of her documents because she changes her mind about what she wants every time I present proofs to be checked. She says things like "I want it to look designed", but cheerfully admits that she can't be bothered to explain what that means. Helpfully gives examples of how she wants it to look like... a different example in response to every batch of proofs. Several projects were completed, including the most pressing document for the whinge-bag.
Day 2: Again, started working on the most logical 'first job' - specifically the tail end of the last thing I'd got to on Day 1. Whinge-bag still trying to dominate my time, but no longer discussing who's paying for my time. Major clash for time between her third(!) document and her colleague's second despite spending most of the day on her stuff and fitting in bits and bobs of her colleagues in the lulls (and over lunch). Amendments palmed off on another salesperson because her time was far too precious. Later reconsidered, much to my frustration. She speaks in terms of implied reverence for Design/Designers, yet in a tone of absolute contempt... And only at the very end of the day does she notice an important aspect of the base template - which has informed much of the layout thusfar: the artwork is offset from the centre of the page, and has wider borders at the top/left than it does bottom/right. Insists that she wants it centred, despite the fact that the base template - designed by the woman I'm covering - must have been approved at least two days ago. At about 5.30, I start to adjust the template and refit the document accordingly. At precisely 5.35, she asks if it's ready yet... and I'm forced to point out that I'm basically having to re-do the layout of every page. Meanwhile, her less obnoxious colleague is insisting that some progress be made on her next most important task. I've done some, I show that to her and make some minor adjustments on the fly, agreeing to do most of the actual 'design' - the fitting and styling - on Monday. Finalise the mouthy one's third document, and prepare print versions and email versions. Email them to three relevant people around the table, then have to explain what the difference is, despite adding explanatory suffixes to the filenames ('_print.pdf' and '_email.pdf' are not self-explanatory enough? The difference in filesize (approx 700k versus about 6Mb) doesn't offer a clue?).
My favourite part of these two days was when Ms. Precious, while complaining about the look of one of her projects, said "I know you're not a designer, but... You're not a designer, are you?"... to the guy who has, thusfar, designed reports, show guides, badges and advertisements for this company.
I know, I pretty much ask for that kind of thing to happen by steadfastly denying that I'm a designer...
I don't sell myself as a designer because that's not my skill-set. For most of my working life, I've been fixing the mistakes designers make... This has enabled me to work as a designer and, to some extent/in some respects, better than many people who do sell themselves as designers.
Ever the diplomat, I sneered slightly, and said "I've doubled as a designer..."
It only gets worse when I spend time on the job as it was specified to me, point out a lack of text for certain sections, and only then learn that those sections are being dropped because the whinge-bag "got bored typing, couldn't be bothered finishing it off, and so decided not to offer those this year."
Classy, huh?
Had a friend over today, to show off some of the big Wii games from the last year or so. He was most interested in seeing Pandora's Tower and Project Zero 2, but I did manage to squeeze in some of The Last Story as well. He'd actually traded in his own Wii for a Kindle, reminding me how weird I am for never trading in or otherwise disposing of my old hardware. Aside from my Wii and PC, I have a Sega Saturn and Sam Coupé (which are still occasionally used), an Atari Jaguar, an Amiga, and miscellaneous other bits and bobs that are hidden away. He also brought his Nintendo 3DS, and showed off Kid Icarus, which plays kind of like a souped-up Space Harrier (or Sin & Punishment)... The 3D effect works particularly well in the flight sections, but it does get tiring for the eyes. Didn't actually get a great deal of game-playing done because I was rabbiting for the first hour or so of his visit, and showing off some of the documents I've designed and laid out in their final printed form... all of which look pretty darned good...
And then, to round off this post, a brief mention of this week's Doctor Who... possibly the most satisfying of this group of five 'movie-style' episodes (so far), even though it very much left me wanting more - all these odd little details that were glossed over, and it felt as though this was the first proper lead-in to what might happen later in the series. Quite intriguing stuff... and certainly the most truly movie-like of the episodes so far. Last week's was good... but still didn't quite live up to the 'movie-like' hype the BBC have been spinning about this group.
Saturday 15 September 2012
Unintentionally Amusing
That last post was number six hundred and sixty six... a three-digit number containing only one unique number, with a three-word title containing only one unique word.
Sorry, these things amuse me.
Sorry, these things amuse me.
Busy, Busy, Busy
This year presents a stark contrast to 2011.
Last year, I was pretty much bone idle, wasted my free time, earned very little money, frittered away all my redundancy payout and then raided a good chunk of my savings.
This year, at least over the last few months, I've been kept pretty busy - a nine-month contract that got cut down to a couple of weeks, bumped up to a couple of months, then bumped up to a twelve-month contract before finally being cancelled entirely has led to several more short temping stints with the same company. Another company took me on for odd two- or three-day holiday cover placements, and has now booked me for two months at two days a week, with occasional longer bookings during their crunch-times leading up to Christmas. Just this last week, I worked a full week between both companies.
And it's hugely enjoyable, too... Not only is the work itself fun, but being in an office again, with such different people, is a massive improvement on my self-imposed hermit-like existence in my flat. It's good to be working on practical things, and it's nice to feel appreciated - and be thanked for my work, which is a stark contrast to my last full-time job - by teams of people who describe me as "a calming influence".
And, yes, some of these people are salespeople.
Strangely, though, I spend some of my evenings feeling bitter and hard-done-by because I actually have to wake up at a specific time the following morning, and actually go to work. The terrible hardship that is the (surprisingly efficient) Metropolitan Line, actually putting in a day's work at the mill... Some evenings, I actually seem to forget that, were I not working, I'd almost certainly be wasting my days and getting nothing of any consequence done, and then getting depressed and frustrated with myself because there's so much else I could be doing.
When morning comes, however (and once I've convinced myself to get the fuck out of bed), all my enthusiasm returns. Sometimes I find myself smiling to myself on the way into work, because I know that whatever the day may bring, it's going to be challenging and fun. Rather than looking at the clock and wondering where the last two hours went, I'll be thinking "hey, I managed to get that done in decent time... I wonder what I'm doing next..." and, come 5.30, I look back on the day and think "that was a good day."
I've been a bit disorganised lately... Failed to produce an invoice for my first 'week' at one job, and only handed over last week's invoice for the other yesterday. Neglected my food shopping last weekend, and so had to make do with shop-bought sarnies and things for a couple of days last week. I'm aiming to actually sort out next week's food shopping either today or tomorrow because, while I'm only certain of work for the first three days next week, there's a good chance I'll be called in to one of the companies for Thursday/Friday as well.
If all this work keeps up, I might actually venture to this winter's conventions... Though the London Expo is out because I'll be in Wales...
Last year, I was pretty much bone idle, wasted my free time, earned very little money, frittered away all my redundancy payout and then raided a good chunk of my savings.
This year, at least over the last few months, I've been kept pretty busy - a nine-month contract that got cut down to a couple of weeks, bumped up to a couple of months, then bumped up to a twelve-month contract before finally being cancelled entirely has led to several more short temping stints with the same company. Another company took me on for odd two- or three-day holiday cover placements, and has now booked me for two months at two days a week, with occasional longer bookings during their crunch-times leading up to Christmas. Just this last week, I worked a full week between both companies.
And it's hugely enjoyable, too... Not only is the work itself fun, but being in an office again, with such different people, is a massive improvement on my self-imposed hermit-like existence in my flat. It's good to be working on practical things, and it's nice to feel appreciated - and be thanked for my work, which is a stark contrast to my last full-time job - by teams of people who describe me as "a calming influence".
And, yes, some of these people are salespeople.
Strangely, though, I spend some of my evenings feeling bitter and hard-done-by because I actually have to wake up at a specific time the following morning, and actually go to work. The terrible hardship that is the (surprisingly efficient) Metropolitan Line, actually putting in a day's work at the mill... Some evenings, I actually seem to forget that, were I not working, I'd almost certainly be wasting my days and getting nothing of any consequence done, and then getting depressed and frustrated with myself because there's so much else I could be doing.
When morning comes, however (and once I've convinced myself to get the fuck out of bed), all my enthusiasm returns. Sometimes I find myself smiling to myself on the way into work, because I know that whatever the day may bring, it's going to be challenging and fun. Rather than looking at the clock and wondering where the last two hours went, I'll be thinking "hey, I managed to get that done in decent time... I wonder what I'm doing next..." and, come 5.30, I look back on the day and think "that was a good day."
I've been a bit disorganised lately... Failed to produce an invoice for my first 'week' at one job, and only handed over last week's invoice for the other yesterday. Neglected my food shopping last weekend, and so had to make do with shop-bought sarnies and things for a couple of days last week. I'm aiming to actually sort out next week's food shopping either today or tomorrow because, while I'm only certain of work for the first three days next week, there's a good chance I'll be called in to one of the companies for Thursday/Friday as well.
If all this work keeps up, I might actually venture to this winter's conventions... Though the London Expo is out because I'll be in Wales...
Sunday 2 September 2012
Triumphal Returns
And so, after completing one week with a company that I now consider to be 'my regular employer', I got called back for another couple of days at the end of last week.
It was an interesting occurrence for several reasons, not least that I got the call asking if I'd be available on the morning of a day when I was heading to that neck of the woods anyway, because I was buying a set of paintings from one of my former colleagues. I was almost tempted to mention that to the agency, in the sense of "I'll be there later anyway, would they like me to start today rather than tomorrow?" but I'm glad I didn't.
This former colleague and I met up in a little tea shop just down the road from the office. It's a strange little establishment, clearly trying very hard to be 'cool', but probably too small and awkward of space to comfortably accommodate the sort of crowds they surely long to attract. It's one of those places where people get together to have a private chat rather too loudly to believe it's truly intended to be private... One of those sitcom-type setups where trivial events are blown out of all proportion, and spoken of loudly enough that everyone in the 'audience' can hear, even though most of them probably do not wish to.
Actually, that's unfair - I'm only talking about the two women on the table next to me. Everyone else was speaking normally, or not speaking at all. I was particularly intrigued by the young woman on the next table, who sat down with a notebook, a scrap of paper (possibly a napkin) and two ink pens - one purple, one green. Had I not been there solely to meet my former colleague, catch up on the events of the three or four years since she left my team for bigger and better things, and hand over four hundred quid for a set of three of her awesome paintings, I probably would have spent a scary amount of time observing this other woman, in an attempt to ascertain the purpose of the two coloured pens.
Typically, my motor-mouth was running at nineteen to the dozen, jumping from subject to subject (and back again) with scarcely a thought for clarity and, if I'm any judge, this version of me - very different to what she'd remember - was quite bewildering to my former colleague... but she's a bright girl and managed to keep up, except when I slipped into weird slang. I should have remembered what a stumbling block that always was for her, but I guess exuberance got the better of me.
Hearing about her plans for returning home and setting up the foundations for focusing on her art in years to come was quite amazing. She was always very level-headed, never one to stew over things that were bothering her if talking about them would help, always adaptable... But she's a good few years younger than me, and her drive and focus put me to shame.
Still, she was very complimentary about my art, and I got a hug as a greeting and as a farewell. Three hours plus flew by in that tea shop, and I was very glad of the opportunity to catch up with her before she disappears off to another country for the next chapter in her life.
The next two days of office work were quite eye-opening, not least because I learned how to mail-merge in Adobe InDesign (Window>Utilities>Datamerge, then have your CSV file at the ready!), which would have been invaluable only last week, when I manually set up 77 certificates using the tried-and-tested 'cut and paste' method. Granted, doing it any other way would have required that I throw back the original data and ask for it to be resupplied (seriously, what is this fascination people have with originating lists as tables in Word?), but I did get to make a recommendation "for future reference" and then bask in the success of another hare-brained scheme.
Because, seriously, if 77 certificates are bad... how about 200+ name badges for a trade show? That's the kind of shit mail-merge is made for.
I also picked up four copies of the Report document I sent to press the previous week, and I have to say, without wishing to sound as though I'm blowing my own trumpet - which, of course, I am - it looked pretty fucking fantastic. It's weird but, looking at the finished, printed product, it almost doesn't feel like my work anymore. The final booklet looks like the kind of professional thing you'd expect to be made by professionals, not some back-room troubleshooter guy like me.
And it's so much better than last year's...
Those two days, more than anything before, reinforced the feeling I've had about that work placement, that the time between bookings is merely extended holiday in 'my job'. I feel completely comfortable there, and they clearly like having me - the moment my colleague announced she was pulling me back in, her already-stacked work inbox suddenly began to overflow with new tasks. Naturally, I was only to happy to attend to them, since just about everything I've done there has been an interesting challenge.
Of course, the 'triumphal return' (see what I did there?) I really wish to discuss is that of Doctor Who, for its seventh 'new' series. Where the writers of 'New Who' get it right, it's in dealing with small stories on a grand scale (as opposed to RTD-era, where there were too many huge stories that always seemed overly ambitious, and thereby horribly curtailed, for the 45-minute TV format... plus, they were all Doctor Fanwanky). 'Asylum of the Daleks' actually dealt with several small stories under the guise of something (potentially) huge. It wasn't about the Parliament of the Daleks turning to the Doctor to 'save' them (though, actually, I'm going to have to watch that episode again because I can't quite remember how that was supposed to work anyway), it was about what happened to Amy and Rory Pond (OK, Williams... but you know in your hearts that Rory is Mr. Pond for life) after they parted ways with The Doctor, and about the terrible things the Daleks have done, not only to other races, but to their own kind, too.
Some of it made for uncomfortable viewing... not just in the 'slightly squeamish' sense of Dalek eye-stalks bursting out of human skulls (though that struck me as odd, considering the Daleks are, technically, the biggest racists in the universe). The appearance of what were, in a way, zombie Daleks was rather disconcerting: the way they all seemed to be non-functional until suddenly they weren't, and the deep-rooted drive to 'exterminate' brought them, stuttering, back to life... And the gnawing feeling that Oswin wasn't all she appeared to be. It wasn't quite so epic and movie-like as it had been cracked up to be, but it was still better than a lot of television lately and, for genre television on the BBC, it was nothing short of brilliant.
But, there's the thing: Jenna-Louise Coleman was introduced to the world as 'the new companion' several months ago... and yet her appearance in 'Asylum of the Daleks' suggests we've been flannelled - yet again - by the Steven Moffat Misinformation Machine (note also his Tweet of 2.01pm yesterday)... So when he speaks of the impending demise of the Ponds, and says "I really mean it this time", I can't help but think of that teaser from an earlier series, where Amy and Rory see their future selves, revisiting the scene of one of their earlier adventures. I can't help but believe that the Ponds will escape with their lives.
But, let's face it, this is Steven Moffat. I'm probably wrong.
It was an interesting occurrence for several reasons, not least that I got the call asking if I'd be available on the morning of a day when I was heading to that neck of the woods anyway, because I was buying a set of paintings from one of my former colleagues. I was almost tempted to mention that to the agency, in the sense of "I'll be there later anyway, would they like me to start today rather than tomorrow?" but I'm glad I didn't.
This former colleague and I met up in a little tea shop just down the road from the office. It's a strange little establishment, clearly trying very hard to be 'cool', but probably too small and awkward of space to comfortably accommodate the sort of crowds they surely long to attract. It's one of those places where people get together to have a private chat rather too loudly to believe it's truly intended to be private... One of those sitcom-type setups where trivial events are blown out of all proportion, and spoken of loudly enough that everyone in the 'audience' can hear, even though most of them probably do not wish to.
Actually, that's unfair - I'm only talking about the two women on the table next to me. Everyone else was speaking normally, or not speaking at all. I was particularly intrigued by the young woman on the next table, who sat down with a notebook, a scrap of paper (possibly a napkin) and two ink pens - one purple, one green. Had I not been there solely to meet my former colleague, catch up on the events of the three or four years since she left my team for bigger and better things, and hand over four hundred quid for a set of three of her awesome paintings, I probably would have spent a scary amount of time observing this other woman, in an attempt to ascertain the purpose of the two coloured pens.
Typically, my motor-mouth was running at nineteen to the dozen, jumping from subject to subject (and back again) with scarcely a thought for clarity and, if I'm any judge, this version of me - very different to what she'd remember - was quite bewildering to my former colleague... but she's a bright girl and managed to keep up, except when I slipped into weird slang. I should have remembered what a stumbling block that always was for her, but I guess exuberance got the better of me.
Hearing about her plans for returning home and setting up the foundations for focusing on her art in years to come was quite amazing. She was always very level-headed, never one to stew over things that were bothering her if talking about them would help, always adaptable... But she's a good few years younger than me, and her drive and focus put me to shame.
Still, she was very complimentary about my art, and I got a hug as a greeting and as a farewell. Three hours plus flew by in that tea shop, and I was very glad of the opportunity to catch up with her before she disappears off to another country for the next chapter in her life.
The next two days of office work were quite eye-opening, not least because I learned how to mail-merge in Adobe InDesign (Window>Utilities>Datamerge, then have your CSV file at the ready!), which would have been invaluable only last week, when I manually set up 77 certificates using the tried-and-tested 'cut and paste' method. Granted, doing it any other way would have required that I throw back the original data and ask for it to be resupplied (seriously, what is this fascination people have with originating lists as tables in Word?), but I did get to make a recommendation "for future reference" and then bask in the success of another hare-brained scheme.
Because, seriously, if 77 certificates are bad... how about 200+ name badges for a trade show? That's the kind of shit mail-merge is made for.
I also picked up four copies of the Report document I sent to press the previous week, and I have to say, without wishing to sound as though I'm blowing my own trumpet - which, of course, I am - it looked pretty fucking fantastic. It's weird but, looking at the finished, printed product, it almost doesn't feel like my work anymore. The final booklet looks like the kind of professional thing you'd expect to be made by professionals, not some back-room troubleshooter guy like me.
And it's so much better than last year's...
Those two days, more than anything before, reinforced the feeling I've had about that work placement, that the time between bookings is merely extended holiday in 'my job'. I feel completely comfortable there, and they clearly like having me - the moment my colleague announced she was pulling me back in, her already-stacked work inbox suddenly began to overflow with new tasks. Naturally, I was only to happy to attend to them, since just about everything I've done there has been an interesting challenge.
Of course, the 'triumphal return' (see what I did there?) I really wish to discuss is that of Doctor Who, for its seventh 'new' series. Where the writers of 'New Who' get it right, it's in dealing with small stories on a grand scale (as opposed to RTD-era, where there were too many huge stories that always seemed overly ambitious, and thereby horribly curtailed, for the 45-minute TV format... plus, they were all Doctor Fanwanky). 'Asylum of the Daleks' actually dealt with several small stories under the guise of something (potentially) huge. It wasn't about the Parliament of the Daleks turning to the Doctor to 'save' them (though, actually, I'm going to have to watch that episode again because I can't quite remember how that was supposed to work anyway), it was about what happened to Amy and Rory Pond (OK, Williams... but you know in your hearts that Rory is Mr. Pond for life) after they parted ways with The Doctor, and about the terrible things the Daleks have done, not only to other races, but to their own kind, too.
Some of it made for uncomfortable viewing... not just in the 'slightly squeamish' sense of Dalek eye-stalks bursting out of human skulls (though that struck me as odd, considering the Daleks are, technically, the biggest racists in the universe). The appearance of what were, in a way, zombie Daleks was rather disconcerting: the way they all seemed to be non-functional until suddenly they weren't, and the deep-rooted drive to 'exterminate' brought them, stuttering, back to life... And the gnawing feeling that Oswin wasn't all she appeared to be. It wasn't quite so epic and movie-like as it had been cracked up to be, but it was still better than a lot of television lately and, for genre television on the BBC, it was nothing short of brilliant.
But, there's the thing: Jenna-Louise Coleman was introduced to the world as 'the new companion' several months ago... and yet her appearance in 'Asylum of the Daleks' suggests we've been flannelled - yet again - by the Steven Moffat Misinformation Machine (note also his Tweet of 2.01pm yesterday)... So when he speaks of the impending demise of the Ponds, and says "I really mean it this time", I can't help but think of that teaser from an earlier series, where Amy and Rory see their future selves, revisiting the scene of one of their earlier adventures. I can't help but believe that the Ponds will escape with their lives.
But, let's face it, this is Steven Moffat. I'm probably wrong.
Wednesday 22 August 2012
Further Publishing Faux Pas
If I thought a pre-formatted and mangled Word document, filled with imported Excel charts was trouble, what then for a list provided to me as a series of tables?
I asked - ever the optimist - if they had a bare text version of the list, not formatted into the dozen or so individual 2-column tables. It's not as if they needed to be 2-column, even. They knew the final document would be a fairly basic list because that's what they'd asked me to provide a template for. Last year's fancy tables looked crap, after all.
But no. All I got was a rather puzzled look and confirmation that all they had was the document full of tables. That's how the list had been collated.
And, because the net result of trying to work with such tables tends to be either (a) everything but the tables gets copied into the final document or (b) everything including the tables, still in table form, gets copied into the document and so still needs to be reformatted, I opened up a new OpenOffice document and copied the tables into list form, cell by cell, eliminating sponsor logos where necessary.
Didn't take long but, boy, was I cursing...
Well, sighing. And probably tutting.
Seriously, though, why are these people so fascinated with tables? For everything?
Still, shan't complain too loudly... Since my colleague hadn't caught up to her satisfaction, I've been drafted in for one more day... There's also the small matter of a couple of guide books I've been working on that are as yet incomplete because the folks providing the content haven't yet provided all the content... so I (hopefully) get to finish them off tomorrow...
I asked - ever the optimist - if they had a bare text version of the list, not formatted into the dozen or so individual 2-column tables. It's not as if they needed to be 2-column, even. They knew the final document would be a fairly basic list because that's what they'd asked me to provide a template for. Last year's fancy tables looked crap, after all.
But no. All I got was a rather puzzled look and confirmation that all they had was the document full of tables. That's how the list had been collated.
And, because the net result of trying to work with such tables tends to be either (a) everything but the tables gets copied into the final document or (b) everything including the tables, still in table form, gets copied into the document and so still needs to be reformatted, I opened up a new OpenOffice document and copied the tables into list form, cell by cell, eliminating sponsor logos where necessary.
Didn't take long but, boy, was I cursing...
Well, sighing. And probably tutting.
Seriously, though, why are these people so fascinated with tables? For everything?
Still, shan't complain too loudly... Since my colleague hadn't caught up to her satisfaction, I've been drafted in for one more day... There's also the small matter of a couple of guide books I've been working on that are as yet incomplete because the folks providing the content haven't yet provided all the content... so I (hopefully) get to finish them off tomorrow...
Wednesday 15 August 2012
A Dream To (try to) Remember
I got virtually no sleep on Sunday night/Monday morning, partly due to being completely wired because I was returning to one of my 'regular' Temping employers (I say 'regular' because I've only been there twice before), and partly because of the groups of rowdy people returning home from post-Olympic revelry. That lack of sleep didn't do me much good on Monday, when I had to make a start on setting a report for which I'd made a template the last time I was there. It was one of those awkward situations were the template came together easily enough and, in theory, it looked like a simple enough job... but numerous factors outside my control made it rather more complicated than it should have been.
For example:
Seriously, people, bare text. That's all you need to provide. Charts to be represented as 'Chart X', boxouts to be bare text.
It ended up taking me two and a half days to unpick it all, get it into sensible formats, and then pull it all into InDesign to be properly laid out. The section I dealt with in the first half of today turned out to not be quite so bad as I'd expected - it was made up of nine or ten sections in which there were four subsections, each with a pie chart and some with an 'interesting fact' boxout tagged on the end.
I reasoned that, far from needing up to four pages per section, one DPS should be sufficient, with the charts laid out as consistently as possible. Varying amounts of text accompanying each one complicated the matter slightly, but I'd completed that task by noon, leaving me time to fiddle and refine my layouts elsewhere prior to getting it checked out by Editorial. Amends tomorrow, I suspect...
But! Back to Monday...
...Because I was rather surprised by a couple of things. My colleague mentioned to one of the salespeople (long since moved to a different floor) that I was back during a phone conversation, and I actually heard her enthusiastic reaction. A little later that day, one of the others - instigator of some of the strangest conversations - paid a visit in person to say hello, shake my hand, and wish me well.
Perplexing. When did I get popular?
This was evidently such a conundrum that a similar event occurred in my Monday night's dream... I was wandering around some leafy London suburb and just happened to bump into that same guy. We had an essentially similar exchange, and then went our separate ways. It gets a bit hazy after that but at some point I was assaulted by some kind of small monkey-squirrel thing and, upon capturing it in what, for all the world, looked like the sort of rigid leather case you'd use to store a telescope, I started wondering how to dispose of it.
For whatever reason, while I wanted it dead - vicious little troublemaker that it was - that wasn't an easy option... I just had to get rid of it in such a way that it wouldn't be found.
Somehow, I found myself on a cliff edge, looking down toward a rocky beach which, strangely, had a dense forest off to one side. The leather case slipped out of my hand (honest, guv'nor!), and the creature bolted from it. Reluctantly, I decided I'd have to try to recapture it... And then probably bury it - inside the case - in the sand.
Of course, climbing down the rocks wasn't as easy for me as it had been for the creature, and I ended up dislodging a bunch of box files just after starting my descent. They fell down the cliff and crashed onto the rocks below, their contents strewn everywhere.
Box files, you ask?
Yes... but, of course, it wouldn't make sense that there would be box files on a cliff. Looking down, I found I was, in fact, at the top of a ladder, looking down to the floor of my old bedroom... only much larger. The box files contained my comics. My toys were visible in cupboards nearby.
After that, I don't remember enough detail to continue... I think I just tidied up... but possibly not. Shame I didn't get round to this yesterday... it was a very entertaining dream...
In other news, in the hope that karma will see me right, I have bought a set of three paintings by one of my former staff, who's moving home at the end of the month and so auctioning off some of her old paintings. I bought one several years ago, which now occupies my lounge wall. Strangely, the sum I paid for that one painting is the same I'll be paying for the three new ones - prices have been slashed for the auction. I am fighting off the urge to splurge on other things as well, since my finances still aren't great... I've missed out on a great deal of splurging opportunities this year owing to lack of funds.
Part of me thinks I should throw caution to the wind and take that holiday I was (sort of) thinking about at the beginning of last year...
In other other news... has anyone else ever experienced that horrific moment when you realise that it feels as if there's something moving on your face because there's something moving on your face?
Anyway... best get myself to bed now...
For example:
- The report had basically been typeset - formatting, images and all - in MS Word in such a way that, upon importing the text to InDesign, significant portions were stripped
- While I'd found an 'easy' way of making use of the pre-made MS Excel pie charts and bar graphs, saving the time and effort of remaking them in Illustrator (also useful because the person who set the Word document liked those charts more than the Illustrator ones I'd made up as examples), there were about 50 pages of the bloody things
- The Word document weighed in at 88 pages... the Report was supposed to be only 60 pages
Seriously, people, bare text. That's all you need to provide. Charts to be represented as 'Chart X', boxouts to be bare text.
It ended up taking me two and a half days to unpick it all, get it into sensible formats, and then pull it all into InDesign to be properly laid out. The section I dealt with in the first half of today turned out to not be quite so bad as I'd expected - it was made up of nine or ten sections in which there were four subsections, each with a pie chart and some with an 'interesting fact' boxout tagged on the end.
I reasoned that, far from needing up to four pages per section, one DPS should be sufficient, with the charts laid out as consistently as possible. Varying amounts of text accompanying each one complicated the matter slightly, but I'd completed that task by noon, leaving me time to fiddle and refine my layouts elsewhere prior to getting it checked out by Editorial. Amends tomorrow, I suspect...
But! Back to Monday...
...Because I was rather surprised by a couple of things. My colleague mentioned to one of the salespeople (long since moved to a different floor) that I was back during a phone conversation, and I actually heard her enthusiastic reaction. A little later that day, one of the others - instigator of some of the strangest conversations - paid a visit in person to say hello, shake my hand, and wish me well.
Perplexing. When did I get popular?
This was evidently such a conundrum that a similar event occurred in my Monday night's dream... I was wandering around some leafy London suburb and just happened to bump into that same guy. We had an essentially similar exchange, and then went our separate ways. It gets a bit hazy after that but at some point I was assaulted by some kind of small monkey-squirrel thing and, upon capturing it in what, for all the world, looked like the sort of rigid leather case you'd use to store a telescope, I started wondering how to dispose of it.
For whatever reason, while I wanted it dead - vicious little troublemaker that it was - that wasn't an easy option... I just had to get rid of it in such a way that it wouldn't be found.
Somehow, I found myself on a cliff edge, looking down toward a rocky beach which, strangely, had a dense forest off to one side. The leather case slipped out of my hand (honest, guv'nor!), and the creature bolted from it. Reluctantly, I decided I'd have to try to recapture it... And then probably bury it - inside the case - in the sand.
Of course, climbing down the rocks wasn't as easy for me as it had been for the creature, and I ended up dislodging a bunch of box files just after starting my descent. They fell down the cliff and crashed onto the rocks below, their contents strewn everywhere.
Box files, you ask?
Yes... but, of course, it wouldn't make sense that there would be box files on a cliff. Looking down, I found I was, in fact, at the top of a ladder, looking down to the floor of my old bedroom... only much larger. The box files contained my comics. My toys were visible in cupboards nearby.
After that, I don't remember enough detail to continue... I think I just tidied up... but possibly not. Shame I didn't get round to this yesterday... it was a very entertaining dream...
In other news, in the hope that karma will see me right, I have bought a set of three paintings by one of my former staff, who's moving home at the end of the month and so auctioning off some of her old paintings. I bought one several years ago, which now occupies my lounge wall. Strangely, the sum I paid for that one painting is the same I'll be paying for the three new ones - prices have been slashed for the auction. I am fighting off the urge to splurge on other things as well, since my finances still aren't great... I've missed out on a great deal of splurging opportunities this year owing to lack of funds.
Part of me thinks I should throw caution to the wind and take that holiday I was (sort of) thinking about at the beginning of last year...
In other other news... has anyone else ever experienced that horrific moment when you realise that it feels as if there's something moving on your face because there's something moving on your face?
Anyway... best get myself to bed now...
Tuesday 7 August 2012
Spoke Too Soon
Xenoblade again...
OK, so beating the Apocrypha Generator is easy enough, but then you're almost immediately dumped into another battle with a powered-up Egil/Yaldabaoth in which he not only attacks by himself, but summons several different kinds of drones. His attacks against the party are pretty deadly, but about halfway down his health bar, you receive a vision of Mechonis bringing down his sword upon Bionis, literally chopping it in half (the extent of the damage is not indicated by a number, but by infinity... and it's a one-hit-game-over type attack) and are given 2 minutes to destroy three generators surrounding Yaldabaoth. That's also easy enough, even while being attacked up drones (they seem to focus on whoever's attacking their master, and will walk right by as you slice up the generators) but, once they're out of the way and you're on the home straight - boss health about about 1/4 by this point - Egil unleashes his upgraded Mechon's full potential, and some even more deadly moves are used against you.
So far, I've tried that battle two or three times, and each time it ends the same way, at more or less the same point. I know I'm missing something - probably among the Monado Arts - but it's rather frustrating to be doing so well, only to be smashed into the ground by a move that comes without warning... Or, at least, no warning I've noticed so far...
In a fit of pique, I looked up the battle online, to see if any other players had advice... and, while I didn't find what I was looking for, I did learn that Yaldabaoth is not the final boss... there are several more to come... so I'm still not quite 'nearly finished' with Xenoblade Chronicles...
In other news, with one of my anti-virus subscriptions expiring today, I took the opportunity to try something new and different... only for the installation to fail. At least, it locked up at 82% while installing one particular component that I'm unlikely to need.
Of course, having cancelled the installation, it now tries to resume every time I restart, and has decided that there's a problem with the installer, so it fails now around 10%.
Weirdly, the base program seems to have installed and appears - according to itself - to be functional... so I'm not quite sure what to make of it. At some point, I shall drop the publishers a line, and ask what's going on...
OK, so beating the Apocrypha Generator is easy enough, but then you're almost immediately dumped into another battle with a powered-up Egil/Yaldabaoth in which he not only attacks by himself, but summons several different kinds of drones. His attacks against the party are pretty deadly, but about halfway down his health bar, you receive a vision of Mechonis bringing down his sword upon Bionis, literally chopping it in half (the extent of the damage is not indicated by a number, but by infinity... and it's a one-hit-game-over type attack) and are given 2 minutes to destroy three generators surrounding Yaldabaoth. That's also easy enough, even while being attacked up drones (they seem to focus on whoever's attacking their master, and will walk right by as you slice up the generators) but, once they're out of the way and you're on the home straight - boss health about about 1/4 by this point - Egil unleashes his upgraded Mechon's full potential, and some even more deadly moves are used against you.
So far, I've tried that battle two or three times, and each time it ends the same way, at more or less the same point. I know I'm missing something - probably among the Monado Arts - but it's rather frustrating to be doing so well, only to be smashed into the ground by a move that comes without warning... Or, at least, no warning I've noticed so far...
In a fit of pique, I looked up the battle online, to see if any other players had advice... and, while I didn't find what I was looking for, I did learn that Yaldabaoth is not the final boss... there are several more to come... so I'm still not quite 'nearly finished' with Xenoblade Chronicles...
In other news, with one of my anti-virus subscriptions expiring today, I took the opportunity to try something new and different... only for the installation to fail. At least, it locked up at 82% while installing one particular component that I'm unlikely to need.
Of course, having cancelled the installation, it now tries to resume every time I restart, and has decided that there's a problem with the installer, so it fails now around 10%.
Weirdly, the base program seems to have installed and appears - according to itself - to be functional... so I'm not quite sure what to make of it. At some point, I shall drop the publishers a line, and ask what's going on...
Monday 6 August 2012
Interview Technique
Well, the interview today was rather more formal than I've ever had before - actual questions and answers, much like the kind of thing I was warned about in the employment workshops I attended in Harrow earlier in the year. All the worst imaginable questions - why do you want to work here, give us some examples of x, how would you deal with y, etc. - presented as a basic list... and the funniest thing was that the two people interviewing me seemed as uncomfortable with the procedure as I was.
I'm honestly not sure how it went... there were positive elements - when some of my responses elicited something approaching a conversation, however briefly, before the next question - and there were negative elements - mainly when I was unable to remember specifics for some of the questions. It's also quite possible that they won't be too keen to offer me a role that's significantly more junior than anything I've done in years... but I did tell them I'm proud of my work, not my job title, and the fact that I'm available immediately must surely count in my favour.
Of the two (monthly!) titles they said I'd be working on, at least one is quite high-profile... which could be fun. Of the magazines in their portfolio, neither is one I'd choose... but beggars can't be choosers, as the old saying goes.
In other news, I may well be very near the end of Xenoblade Chronicles... Mechonis is moving, and it looks as though I'm about to enter the final area... That said, some of what I've read about the game only happens after this area is cleared, so perhaps I'm not quite so near the end as I thought... Whatever happens, I'm quite looking forward to getting to the end, not least because it'll bring my total of completed Wii games up to eight (or ten, if I include the two - ridiculously easy - Gunblade games). Woot!
Not quite sure what I'll focus on next... I may try to get into The Last Story again, or spend some more time in Pandora's Tower, or get spooky with Project Zero 2... or go back to something even older. Who knows?
I'm honestly not sure how it went... there were positive elements - when some of my responses elicited something approaching a conversation, however briefly, before the next question - and there were negative elements - mainly when I was unable to remember specifics for some of the questions. It's also quite possible that they won't be too keen to offer me a role that's significantly more junior than anything I've done in years... but I did tell them I'm proud of my work, not my job title, and the fact that I'm available immediately must surely count in my favour.
Of the two (monthly!) titles they said I'd be working on, at least one is quite high-profile... which could be fun. Of the magazines in their portfolio, neither is one I'd choose... but beggars can't be choosers, as the old saying goes.
In other news, I may well be very near the end of Xenoblade Chronicles... Mechonis is moving, and it looks as though I'm about to enter the final area... That said, some of what I've read about the game only happens after this area is cleared, so perhaps I'm not quite so near the end as I thought... Whatever happens, I'm quite looking forward to getting to the end, not least because it'll bring my total of completed Wii games up to eight (or ten, if I include the two - ridiculously easy - Gunblade games). Woot!
Not quite sure what I'll focus on next... I may try to get into The Last Story again, or spend some more time in Pandora's Tower, or get spooky with Project Zero 2... or go back to something even older. Who knows?
Things Not To Do The Night Before An Interview
There are times when it seems I cannot resist the opportunity to watch terrible movies. Last night, Channel 5 served up a double whammy of unmitigated crap: Ultraviolet followed by Alien Hunter.
In the former, Milla Lubblyjubblybits supposedly plays a vampire - or haemophage, literally 'a thing that devours blood' - yet never actually consumes blood and only once displays the hint of a fang for the briefest moment. It's a sci-fi movie in the loosest sense, and seemingly purely for spectacle - high-tech gadgetry 'explaining' some of the wackier - and almost entirely computer generated - stunts. Being generous, one could give it points for originality in portraying the vampires as the rebel underclass - victims of a virus fighting for their right to existence in a world fixated on purity - but that might also be seen as adding plot where there is none. Much of the movie is made up of fight scenes, and most of the bits in between are clearly just padding... It is said that a good chunk of the movie (the alleged plot) was edited out to give the movie a PG-13 rating, and much of it was restored in the novelisation... but I'm not curious enough to read it.
The latter movie was quite bizarre, in that it really didn't seem to know what it was. Beginning like The Thing (nicking the snowy setting and the 'mysterious object dug out of the ice') it takes a full hour just to reveal the alien... and even then, there's a mixed message. The pod is giving out a signal which is eventually translated (thanks to a videogame reference) as "DO NOT OPEN", surely implying a nasty alien. Rather than being aggressive and dangerous, it's a peaceful alien that just wants to be friends with James Spader - a fatal mistake, as it turns out - only it came packaged with a flesh-eating virus which kills about half the team almost instantly (not that you'd care - there was no emotional investment in any of the characters, and their deaths are completely glossed over) while the others are just carriers/incubators and realise that they have to stay put and await destruction by Russian nuclear submarine. There's some side-story about genetically modified crops which also become victims of the alien virus, and then the survivors end up getting carted off by the aliens - a clean-up crew who were coming to collect their escape pod thing - about three seconds before the nuke hits.
Considering how much time it devoted to (attempts at) jump scares and building tension (both of which failed), it seemed quite bizarre to change tack quite so dramatically. It was like The Thing crossed with ET and The Abyss... only not as good as any of them. Spader's character was supposedly a womaniser, and yet (mercifully, perhaps) there was precious little evidence of that in the movie. The main bulk of the tension came from the debate over what the 'survivors' of the initial virus attack should do, and that was mainly accomplished through shouting.
The title of the movie seemingly comes from Spader's character - a lecturer of some kind with a sideline in looking for sentient life out in space... Very WTF?
I can honestly say that I regret staying up till after 1.30 this morning for that double-bill of dross...
In the former, Milla Lubblyjubblybits supposedly plays a vampire - or haemophage, literally 'a thing that devours blood' - yet never actually consumes blood and only once displays the hint of a fang for the briefest moment. It's a sci-fi movie in the loosest sense, and seemingly purely for spectacle - high-tech gadgetry 'explaining' some of the wackier - and almost entirely computer generated - stunts. Being generous, one could give it points for originality in portraying the vampires as the rebel underclass - victims of a virus fighting for their right to existence in a world fixated on purity - but that might also be seen as adding plot where there is none. Much of the movie is made up of fight scenes, and most of the bits in between are clearly just padding... It is said that a good chunk of the movie (the alleged plot) was edited out to give the movie a PG-13 rating, and much of it was restored in the novelisation... but I'm not curious enough to read it.
The latter movie was quite bizarre, in that it really didn't seem to know what it was. Beginning like The Thing (nicking the snowy setting and the 'mysterious object dug out of the ice') it takes a full hour just to reveal the alien... and even then, there's a mixed message. The pod is giving out a signal which is eventually translated (thanks to a videogame reference) as "DO NOT OPEN", surely implying a nasty alien. Rather than being aggressive and dangerous, it's a peaceful alien that just wants to be friends with James Spader - a fatal mistake, as it turns out - only it came packaged with a flesh-eating virus which kills about half the team almost instantly (not that you'd care - there was no emotional investment in any of the characters, and their deaths are completely glossed over) while the others are just carriers/incubators and realise that they have to stay put and await destruction by Russian nuclear submarine. There's some side-story about genetically modified crops which also become victims of the alien virus, and then the survivors end up getting carted off by the aliens - a clean-up crew who were coming to collect their escape pod thing - about three seconds before the nuke hits.
Considering how much time it devoted to (attempts at) jump scares and building tension (both of which failed), it seemed quite bizarre to change tack quite so dramatically. It was like The Thing crossed with ET and The Abyss... only not as good as any of them. Spader's character was supposedly a womaniser, and yet (mercifully, perhaps) there was precious little evidence of that in the movie. The main bulk of the tension came from the debate over what the 'survivors' of the initial virus attack should do, and that was mainly accomplished through shouting.
The title of the movie seemingly comes from Spader's character - a lecturer of some kind with a sideline in looking for sentient life out in space... Very WTF?
I can honestly say that I regret staying up till after 1.30 this morning for that double-bill of dross...
Sunday 5 August 2012
The Sky Is Falling
Or, more accurately, the paper covering on my ceilings is coming down in the hall.
So, no, not a reference to the new Bond movie...
One strip of this paper, which had been hanging down in a quite distracting manner for weeks, came down with very little effort on my part.
There's something just not right about the ceilings in my flat... either they're leaking, staining and growing mould, or they're getting so bone dry that the glue used to put the paper up there is breaking down. I suppose it doesn't help that there's about a dozen layers of paint up there, so the paper is glued to a surface that is, to some extent, inherently unstable.
In other news, I've been called in to interview for a 10-month contract job tomorrow - I'd originally suggested this last Friday, given the option, but the company decide it's Monday or nothing... Strange, but still acceptable. Their address - or, more specifically, the postcode I was given - doesn't pinpoint their location very well, so I had to traipse down there just to be sure I knew where to go tomorrow. The route is simple enough and, just for once, it's not in Zone 1, so my journey would be slightly cheaper.
Meanwhile, I've made quite a bit of progress in Xenoblade - I'm in Agniratha, and at the point where I need to face off (har har) against Jade Face. So far, he's decimated me every time... I suspect I need to sort out my equipment and gems, to optimise my characters against his attacks. That he calls in support every so often - as one of his attacks - is a real pest, because it means breaking off from attacking him to deal with his support drones, allowing him time to charge up his other attacks. I'll get there eventually, I guess... It's kind of like that earlier story battle that gave me so much trouble, right up until it didn't...
I've racked up about 150 hours so far (possibly more), having gone back to previous locations to complete some challenge quests and pick up a few new sidequests. The setup, whereby some quests only become available when you have a certain level of affinity for a location, is quite novel... but it does get a bit frustrating tracking people down, and continually adjusting the clock to get the right people in any given location, in the hope that they will be ready to give out a new quest.
A couple of quests are no longer available to me - may not become available again - because of the battle currently being waged in Sword Valley/at Galahad Fortress... Not sure they're massively important...
One thing that really bugged me about one part of the game - Valak Mountain - was that there are a couple of areas of the map that are inaccessible except through complicated aerobatics. The game isn't really designed with these in mind, which makes some locations effectively impossible to get to. I'm sure it's all intentional - less skilled players surely shouldn't be allowed to try quests that would probably kill them... But the 'Balance of Power' mission is easily opened, yet ridiculously difficult to complete.
Of course, I can't sign off without mentioning Torchwood: Children of Earth. I wrote about it back in 2009, when I first saw it on telly, and my opinions haven't changed that much. I think the biggest problem with Torchwood as a whole, writ large in CoE and Miracle Day, was that too much of it relies on elements of Captain Jack's backstory that don't come to light until quite late in the story. Some of it - his past association with Captain John Hart, or the missing brother, Grey - are largely irrelevant in the grand scheme of things... But, when you have a story like Children of Earth, it's a huge mistake to make Jack's more recent family ties a crucial plot point when they've never been mentioned before. Just like Miracle Day, a previously undisclosed element of Jack's past becomes the crux, and what could have been constructive backstory ends up very obviously shoehorned in, telegraphing imminent events all too clearly.
It wouldn't be so bad if Jack's big, emotional twist at the end actually made sense (hell, if any of the story actually made sense)...
I quite liked the aliens, and the fact that they were essentially using human children as a drug... that was an original and rather chilling concept... but then, if these aliens are basically intergalactic stoners, are they really capable of destroying the world? On the whole, though, John Frobisher's reactions to everything, particularly the way he 'took care of his family', were the most believable elements of the show. Killing off Ianto was cheap and unnecessary, but it did show what a weak character Jack Harkness is - the moment he's threatened, he caves in and starts begging.
So, no, not a reference to the new Bond movie...
One strip of this paper, which had been hanging down in a quite distracting manner for weeks, came down with very little effort on my part.
There's something just not right about the ceilings in my flat... either they're leaking, staining and growing mould, or they're getting so bone dry that the glue used to put the paper up there is breaking down. I suppose it doesn't help that there's about a dozen layers of paint up there, so the paper is glued to a surface that is, to some extent, inherently unstable.
In other news, I've been called in to interview for a 10-month contract job tomorrow - I'd originally suggested this last Friday, given the option, but the company decide it's Monday or nothing... Strange, but still acceptable. Their address - or, more specifically, the postcode I was given - doesn't pinpoint their location very well, so I had to traipse down there just to be sure I knew where to go tomorrow. The route is simple enough and, just for once, it's not in Zone 1, so my journey would be slightly cheaper.
Meanwhile, I've made quite a bit of progress in Xenoblade - I'm in Agniratha, and at the point where I need to face off (har har) against Jade Face. So far, he's decimated me every time... I suspect I need to sort out my equipment and gems, to optimise my characters against his attacks. That he calls in support every so often - as one of his attacks - is a real pest, because it means breaking off from attacking him to deal with his support drones, allowing him time to charge up his other attacks. I'll get there eventually, I guess... It's kind of like that earlier story battle that gave me so much trouble, right up until it didn't...
I've racked up about 150 hours so far (possibly more), having gone back to previous locations to complete some challenge quests and pick up a few new sidequests. The setup, whereby some quests only become available when you have a certain level of affinity for a location, is quite novel... but it does get a bit frustrating tracking people down, and continually adjusting the clock to get the right people in any given location, in the hope that they will be ready to give out a new quest.
A couple of quests are no longer available to me - may not become available again - because of the battle currently being waged in Sword Valley/at Galahad Fortress... Not sure they're massively important...
One thing that really bugged me about one part of the game - Valak Mountain - was that there are a couple of areas of the map that are inaccessible except through complicated aerobatics. The game isn't really designed with these in mind, which makes some locations effectively impossible to get to. I'm sure it's all intentional - less skilled players surely shouldn't be allowed to try quests that would probably kill them... But the 'Balance of Power' mission is easily opened, yet ridiculously difficult to complete.
Of course, I can't sign off without mentioning Torchwood: Children of Earth. I wrote about it back in 2009, when I first saw it on telly, and my opinions haven't changed that much. I think the biggest problem with Torchwood as a whole, writ large in CoE and Miracle Day, was that too much of it relies on elements of Captain Jack's backstory that don't come to light until quite late in the story. Some of it - his past association with Captain John Hart, or the missing brother, Grey - are largely irrelevant in the grand scheme of things... But, when you have a story like Children of Earth, it's a huge mistake to make Jack's more recent family ties a crucial plot point when they've never been mentioned before. Just like Miracle Day, a previously undisclosed element of Jack's past becomes the crux, and what could have been constructive backstory ends up very obviously shoehorned in, telegraphing imminent events all too clearly.
It wouldn't be so bad if Jack's big, emotional twist at the end actually made sense (hell, if any of the story actually made sense)...
I quite liked the aliens, and the fact that they were essentially using human children as a drug... that was an original and rather chilling concept... but then, if these aliens are basically intergalactic stoners, are they really capable of destroying the world? On the whole, though, John Frobisher's reactions to everything, particularly the way he 'took care of his family', were the most believable elements of the show. Killing off Ianto was cheap and unnecessary, but it did show what a weak character Jack Harkness is - the moment he's threatened, he caves in and starts begging.
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