...Is finally managing to write a page or two of passable prose on a story that you've been trying to figure out for months, only to wake up and realise you didn't really write it, you only dreamt it.
I mean, seriously? That's just my subconscious fucking with me now. It's hardly fair, especially since I forgot almost all of it pretty much as soon as I woke up. Forget about that Dragon dictation software, I need something that transfers my dreams to a Word document.
So... in other news... I was going to ramble on about more of the movies I saw at the weekend - most specifically A Perfect Getaway - but I've left it late again and... I've got some work tomorrow. Two days of paid work, in fact. One of my regulars has someone off sick, so I'm doing some emergency cover. New office, longer journey, but the money's still good...
I was also going to mention Pandora's Tower some more... it's a very interesting game, but has some very irritating boss fights. The master of the third tower is a real bugger, though I didn't need the interwebs to tell me how to beat him - I actually figured it out for myself (well, with the help of information picked up along the way), so I'm quite proud of that. Now that I have a better grasp of the mechanics of the game, and the somewhat lateral thinking one must employ, it's easier to get things done... but it seems that you can only feed beast flesh to your vegetarian companion once a day and get her transformation reset... any more than that, and she gets no benefits.
Got a fair bit done today, though not as much as I'd been hoping. No writing - thanks largely to that bloody dream - and only a tiny bit of arty stuff, none of which I'm entirely happy with.
The rain stayed away all day, but has started up again a while ago. Shame, considering how bright and warm it was earlier...
Monday, 30 April 2012
Some Assembly Required
And so, rather predictably, I went to see Avengers Assemble yesterday. While I'm not sure I'm going to eat my words wholly, the film turned out to be much better than I'd expected.
The problem with any and all Superhero movies based on a comic book property is that film-makers always feel the need to introduce the characters. The rationale is simple: make a movie for the fans, and you limit your audience. Make a movie that introduces the character not only to the fans, but to the wider cinema-going public, and you increase your box-office takings. As a side effect, this approach can occasionally generate new fans not just for the movie franchise, but for the original comic books too.
The problem with this approach is that existing fans will revolt at any significant (which is to say, whatever they perceive to be significant) changes to the character, their personality, their relationships, their origins... even their costumes. It is, perhaps, for this very reason that Marvel have grabbed back the movie rights to most, if not all, of their comic book properties, and housed them with Marvel Studios. Keeping it in the family, so to speak.
Of course, even this hasn't been 100% successful. Origin movies, by their very nature, have to spend a good chunk of the running time introducing the audience to the character, their world, their motivations, etc. Then they have to add a purpose - a conflict - to the story, which can be resolved adequately. Then, somehow, it all has to get tied together in a neat, interesting and, above all, entertaining package that must ensure that the origin movie is not the only movie that character ever gets.
And because many of these comic book characters have a rogues gallery of antagonists, many movie studios have felt the need to pit the hero against more than one adversary in each film. For a masterclass in how not to do a superhero movie, just look at the progressively more outlandish Batman movies that started with Tim Burton's Batman (and I make no apologies for that prefix - it and Batman Returns are more Tim Burton movies than they are Batman movies) back in 1989. Sure, it started with just the Joker (overplayed by Jack Nicholson, possibly the dopiest casting choice in the history of superhero movies), but Batman Returns (1992) brought us Catwoman and the Penguin. Batman Forever introduced Robin, and the Dynamic Duo went up against the Riddler and Two-Face. Finally, Batman & Robin added Batgirl, and the trio were up against Mr Freeze, Poison Ivy and something resembling Bane. The stories were all over the place, while the scripts and characterisations moved steadily closer to the 60s TV series.
Sam Raimi's Spiderman movies suffered a similar fate eventually. The first two featured only one major antagonist, and the rest of the story was taken up with Peter Parker's angst. The third, however, tried to balance the Sandman with the alien symbiote - as both black Spidey and Venom - and Harry Osborne's vengence and Peter Parker's angst revolving around Mary Jane, Gwen and the changes he was going through as a result of the symbiote. One can only hope that the newly rebooted franchise will work better, now Spidey is fully back in the hands of the company that created him.
Consider now that the first Avengers movie - because you know that's going to be a franchise too - has come along after an origin movie (at the very least) for each of its main characters. Captain America and Thor have had their intros, Iron Man and Hulk have had a couple of movies each (though Hulk seemed to create a subtly different continuity each time). Black Widow and Hawkeye have turned up in supplemental roles, Nick Fury has turned up briefly... As has Agent Coulson. Safe to say, then, we know who we're dealing with... The question is how they all come together as the Avengers.
Suffice it to say, it ain't smooth. Egos clash. Fists fly. The seeds of distrust are sown... And that's just with the good guys.
But to say the villains take a back seat would be unfair. Loki (Thor's not-brother) is orchestrating events, threatening the world with an alien armada, and generally being evil... but what sets this apart from most superhero movies, and any previous attempt at bringing superheroes together, is that Loki himself is just a pawn in a longer game. That might be a spoiler, so I won't elaborate.
Having the name 'Joss Whedon' in the credits seems to be a good thing at the moment, and Whedon directed, wrote the screenplay and co-wrote the story. It bears all his trademark humour and understanding of the human side of these superhuman characters. It's an adventure that doesn't slow down and, at just under two and a half hours, manages to find more than adequate screen time for every component of the ensemble. Even Black Widow and Hawkeye have enough implied history that they come across as perfectly rounded characters, despite only having had small roles in previous films. While much of it was framed in the style of the big summer blockbuster, there were enough 'small moments' and quirky angles to remind you that the guy pulling the strings knows his shit.
I will say that the big battle sequence that's so prominent in the trailer does only occupy a small portion of the movie, towards the end. It's still a cliché, but at least this movie used it for a purpose. On the downside, it does get a bit choppy in IMAX 3D.
And, as has become 'the thing' with Marvel Superhero movies, there's a post-credits teaser sequence (actually before the main credits - they've obviously had complaints from people who wanted to see the teaser, but didn't want to have to sit through that tedious list of names... I mean, honestly, how can you call yourself a movie fan if you can't occasionally wait for the names of all the people involved in the production of a movie to scroll past?) hinting at things to come.
But not for a while... There's another Iron Man in the works, another Captain America, another Thor... Hulk might be spared, since it seems to be such a difficult property to do justice to (though the one featuring Ed Norton wasn't too bad... it just misjudged some of the humour).
There was going to be more here... More movies and other stuff... but it's silly o'clock, and I should be getting some sleep...
The problem with any and all Superhero movies based on a comic book property is that film-makers always feel the need to introduce the characters. The rationale is simple: make a movie for the fans, and you limit your audience. Make a movie that introduces the character not only to the fans, but to the wider cinema-going public, and you increase your box-office takings. As a side effect, this approach can occasionally generate new fans not just for the movie franchise, but for the original comic books too.
The problem with this approach is that existing fans will revolt at any significant (which is to say, whatever they perceive to be significant) changes to the character, their personality, their relationships, their origins... even their costumes. It is, perhaps, for this very reason that Marvel have grabbed back the movie rights to most, if not all, of their comic book properties, and housed them with Marvel Studios. Keeping it in the family, so to speak.
Of course, even this hasn't been 100% successful. Origin movies, by their very nature, have to spend a good chunk of the running time introducing the audience to the character, their world, their motivations, etc. Then they have to add a purpose - a conflict - to the story, which can be resolved adequately. Then, somehow, it all has to get tied together in a neat, interesting and, above all, entertaining package that must ensure that the origin movie is not the only movie that character ever gets.
And because many of these comic book characters have a rogues gallery of antagonists, many movie studios have felt the need to pit the hero against more than one adversary in each film. For a masterclass in how not to do a superhero movie, just look at the progressively more outlandish Batman movies that started with Tim Burton's Batman (and I make no apologies for that prefix - it and Batman Returns are more Tim Burton movies than they are Batman movies) back in 1989. Sure, it started with just the Joker (overplayed by Jack Nicholson, possibly the dopiest casting choice in the history of superhero movies), but Batman Returns (1992) brought us Catwoman and the Penguin. Batman Forever introduced Robin, and the Dynamic Duo went up against the Riddler and Two-Face. Finally, Batman & Robin added Batgirl, and the trio were up against Mr Freeze, Poison Ivy and something resembling Bane. The stories were all over the place, while the scripts and characterisations moved steadily closer to the 60s TV series.
Sam Raimi's Spiderman movies suffered a similar fate eventually. The first two featured only one major antagonist, and the rest of the story was taken up with Peter Parker's angst. The third, however, tried to balance the Sandman with the alien symbiote - as both black Spidey and Venom - and Harry Osborne's vengence and Peter Parker's angst revolving around Mary Jane, Gwen and the changes he was going through as a result of the symbiote. One can only hope that the newly rebooted franchise will work better, now Spidey is fully back in the hands of the company that created him.
Consider now that the first Avengers movie - because you know that's going to be a franchise too - has come along after an origin movie (at the very least) for each of its main characters. Captain America and Thor have had their intros, Iron Man and Hulk have had a couple of movies each (though Hulk seemed to create a subtly different continuity each time). Black Widow and Hawkeye have turned up in supplemental roles, Nick Fury has turned up briefly... As has Agent Coulson. Safe to say, then, we know who we're dealing with... The question is how they all come together as the Avengers.
Suffice it to say, it ain't smooth. Egos clash. Fists fly. The seeds of distrust are sown... And that's just with the good guys.
But to say the villains take a back seat would be unfair. Loki (Thor's not-brother) is orchestrating events, threatening the world with an alien armada, and generally being evil... but what sets this apart from most superhero movies, and any previous attempt at bringing superheroes together, is that Loki himself is just a pawn in a longer game. That might be a spoiler, so I won't elaborate.
Having the name 'Joss Whedon' in the credits seems to be a good thing at the moment, and Whedon directed, wrote the screenplay and co-wrote the story. It bears all his trademark humour and understanding of the human side of these superhuman characters. It's an adventure that doesn't slow down and, at just under two and a half hours, manages to find more than adequate screen time for every component of the ensemble. Even Black Widow and Hawkeye have enough implied history that they come across as perfectly rounded characters, despite only having had small roles in previous films. While much of it was framed in the style of the big summer blockbuster, there were enough 'small moments' and quirky angles to remind you that the guy pulling the strings knows his shit.
I will say that the big battle sequence that's so prominent in the trailer does only occupy a small portion of the movie, towards the end. It's still a cliché, but at least this movie used it for a purpose. On the downside, it does get a bit choppy in IMAX 3D.
And, as has become 'the thing' with Marvel Superhero movies, there's a post-credits teaser sequence (actually before the main credits - they've obviously had complaints from people who wanted to see the teaser, but didn't want to have to sit through that tedious list of names... I mean, honestly, how can you call yourself a movie fan if you can't occasionally wait for the names of all the people involved in the production of a movie to scroll past?) hinting at things to come.
But not for a while... There's another Iron Man in the works, another Captain America, another Thor... Hulk might be spared, since it seems to be such a difficult property to do justice to (though the one featuring Ed Norton wasn't too bad... it just misjudged some of the humour).
There was going to be more here... More movies and other stuff... but it's silly o'clock, and I should be getting some sleep...
Friday, 27 April 2012
The Sleep of the Dead
Apologies to George Romero if I've just nicked the title of his next movie, but this is a post about yet another of my zombie dreams, so it's kind of appropriate...
The weirdest thing, within one of these dreams, is that I'll sometimes have a moment of realisation - not just that I'm dreaming, but that I'm dreaming something again. When this happens, I immediately resolve to do something differently, just to see what happens. And it's moments like that which lead to some seriously weird stuff.
I may or may not have previously mentioned that my dreams often slip between 'reality' (that of the dream itself, at any rate) and 'videogame' or 'movie' of the same setting... So, one minute I'm experiencing these events myself, then next I'm watching them on a screen, occasionally directing events as the player (one could say that's actually a sad reflection on videogames today, in which you spend about as much time watching cutscenes as you do actually playing). Every so often, the dream will flip between the two even as it switches between being 'real' and 'unreal', which can make it even more fun or even more confusing.
Anyway, before I go too far on that tangent, last night's main feature revolved around that old favourite, zombies in and around a large shopping centre. I don't remember how it began - all I can remember now is what happened from the point at which the zombies broke in, and the people tried to escape. Evidently all these crowds of people had been quite happily living in the shopping centre for a while - making use of the restaurants, in particular, as the world figuratively burned outside - so, when the zombies found their way in, the crowds stampeded in every direction.
The moment of realisation was that I was pretty sure that I'd had this dream before... though, upon reflection, I'm still not sure whether I, or the version of me in the dream world had dreamt it. Everyone was going to head toward the lift shafts and attempt to climb to the top of the tower part of the shopping centre in the hope that, even if the zombies could climb after them, they'd be easier to pick off at a distance in the shafts.
Quite a sensible idea... but one which didn't take into account the fact that these were the oh-so-fashionable fast zombies, as seen in 28 Days/Weeks Later, and the more recent instalments of the Resident Evil and the '...of the Dead' movie franchises. Not only could they climb, but they were faster and more assured (or perhaps less concerned for their own safety) than the living flesh they were pursuing.
Part way up the tower, I saw an alternative exit. Knowing that everyone who climbed the tower was going to be caught and killed, I decided to leap out and make a run for it. Someone else had the same idea and, after a brief parkour sequence - jumping over the rooftops and avoiding zombies - we were on the home straight into town and away from the current centre of zombie activity.
At this point, I knew I was in a videogame... not least because I could switch from 'Third Person, Over the Shoulder, Forward View' to 'Third Person, Over the Shoulder, Backward View' at the touch of a button... And this was quite a useful feature as the name of the game was 'Outrun the Zombies'. It was very much like one of those RE4 quicktime events where - in the Wii version, at least - you must waggle the controller to help Leon outrun a boulder.
But the dubious fun didn't end there. Imagine if there was a zombie outbreak in Grand Theft Auto. As you're running away, you spy a nice-looking vehicle. You jump in, you drive off... mowing down zombies along the way. The other player picked out a nice, sporty car, but I thought I'd seen something better.... Somehow, though, when I started driving my chosen vehicle, I realised it was nothing more than a motor scooter. Not exactly ideal for escaping hordes of the (fleet-footed) undead.
After a brief bit of confusion where I tried to find the other player, to ensure we were both heading in the same direction, only to find that my preferred direction led to a large stone wall, we headed off, out of the city and on to the next part of this adventure...
...At which point, I woke up.
It looked like a bright, sunny day when I first got out of bed but, almost immediately after my shower, the skies had turned dark and grey. Whenever the rain lets up for a while, there are more stretches of blue sky, but they don't seem to last long, and the rain has been pretty torrential... Mind you, April is always like this...
The weirdest thing, within one of these dreams, is that I'll sometimes have a moment of realisation - not just that I'm dreaming, but that I'm dreaming something again. When this happens, I immediately resolve to do something differently, just to see what happens. And it's moments like that which lead to some seriously weird stuff.
I may or may not have previously mentioned that my dreams often slip between 'reality' (that of the dream itself, at any rate) and 'videogame' or 'movie' of the same setting... So, one minute I'm experiencing these events myself, then next I'm watching them on a screen, occasionally directing events as the player (one could say that's actually a sad reflection on videogames today, in which you spend about as much time watching cutscenes as you do actually playing). Every so often, the dream will flip between the two even as it switches between being 'real' and 'unreal', which can make it even more fun or even more confusing.
Anyway, before I go too far on that tangent, last night's main feature revolved around that old favourite, zombies in and around a large shopping centre. I don't remember how it began - all I can remember now is what happened from the point at which the zombies broke in, and the people tried to escape. Evidently all these crowds of people had been quite happily living in the shopping centre for a while - making use of the restaurants, in particular, as the world figuratively burned outside - so, when the zombies found their way in, the crowds stampeded in every direction.
The moment of realisation was that I was pretty sure that I'd had this dream before... though, upon reflection, I'm still not sure whether I, or the version of me in the dream world had dreamt it. Everyone was going to head toward the lift shafts and attempt to climb to the top of the tower part of the shopping centre in the hope that, even if the zombies could climb after them, they'd be easier to pick off at a distance in the shafts.
Quite a sensible idea... but one which didn't take into account the fact that these were the oh-so-fashionable fast zombies, as seen in 28 Days/Weeks Later, and the more recent instalments of the Resident Evil and the '...of the Dead' movie franchises. Not only could they climb, but they were faster and more assured (or perhaps less concerned for their own safety) than the living flesh they were pursuing.
Part way up the tower, I saw an alternative exit. Knowing that everyone who climbed the tower was going to be caught and killed, I decided to leap out and make a run for it. Someone else had the same idea and, after a brief parkour sequence - jumping over the rooftops and avoiding zombies - we were on the home straight into town and away from the current centre of zombie activity.
At this point, I knew I was in a videogame... not least because I could switch from 'Third Person, Over the Shoulder, Forward View' to 'Third Person, Over the Shoulder, Backward View' at the touch of a button... And this was quite a useful feature as the name of the game was 'Outrun the Zombies'. It was very much like one of those RE4 quicktime events where - in the Wii version, at least - you must waggle the controller to help Leon outrun a boulder.
But the dubious fun didn't end there. Imagine if there was a zombie outbreak in Grand Theft Auto. As you're running away, you spy a nice-looking vehicle. You jump in, you drive off... mowing down zombies along the way. The other player picked out a nice, sporty car, but I thought I'd seen something better.... Somehow, though, when I started driving my chosen vehicle, I realised it was nothing more than a motor scooter. Not exactly ideal for escaping hordes of the (fleet-footed) undead.
After a brief bit of confusion where I tried to find the other player, to ensure we were both heading in the same direction, only to find that my preferred direction led to a large stone wall, we headed off, out of the city and on to the next part of this adventure...
...At which point, I woke up.
It looked like a bright, sunny day when I first got out of bed but, almost immediately after my shower, the skies had turned dark and grey. Whenever the rain lets up for a while, there are more stretches of blue sky, but they don't seem to last long, and the rain has been pretty torrential... Mind you, April is always like this...
Tuesday, 24 April 2012
The Big Four-Oh
Not mine, you understand... but that is a mere two years hence. No, this weekend, my sister turned forty. I had decided not to attend, since the plans for the day were a little vague. It was described as an 'open house' for the weekend, which invariably turns into one of those awkward situations were the various factions of family and friends form into their usual groupings, and there aren't enough chairs to go around. I'm told the food selection (Waitrose, apparently) was excellent, but that the in-laws rather overstayed their welcome. This is not unusual.
But... My sister, forty?
It sounds impossible, because only last week we were in high school, and middle school the week before that. All these memories I have of growing up with my sister, seeing her go off to university, going to work, attending her wedding, visiting her in two different homes, the birth of her daughter - my niece - and still it hasn't quite sunk in that time really has been marching on, all these years.
It's a sobering thought, and yet still completely unreal.
The most aggravating part is that I still find myself spending my days virtually idle, expecting my life to fall into place sooner or later. All these 'projects' of mine that are still occupying space in my head rather than being worked on. I'll sit here, typing away into my blog, but can't focus on any of the stories I want/need to write, some of which might actually be worth a damn.
I mean, who knows, right?
Occasionally, I'll catch myself thinking "well, at least my sister has a family..." which is a comforting thought, though I can never quite pin down why. It's hardly an excuse for me to rest on my laurels and not accomplish anything, and the fact that my niece is now approaching her third birthday and I'm still single (and, for the most part, not too bothered about that for a whole host of reasons, but very bothered about of for many more reasons)... Part of me suspects I've missed all the opportunities I'm going to get, while most of me realises that's just the self-fulfilling prophesy of my own laziness and reluctance to look out for opportunities or to even try because it's all so very complicated. The really daft thing is that it's not as if I've ever been terribly hurt... just... disappointed.
Oh, and still being out of work doesn't help.
It'd be nice to get a few things out of the way... Sort out the art for my mother's commissioned birthday/Christmas present for this year; sort out all that fucking t-shirt printing, one way or another; sort out some of the stories that are bouncing around uselessly in my head.
I'm probably repeating myself, but the most annoying part of the 'not-writing' issue is that I keep having all these cool ideas just before I go to sleep, and then forget them before I even find some paper to write them down on. Naturally, I can't remember them the next morning, either.
Draining my attention, I played a bit more of both Pandora's Tower and Xenoblade today. The former is impressing me with its interesting play mechanics, even while it frustrates me with its camera angles. The latter... is still fun, but I'm finding it difficult to motivate myself to play very far, because I know I'm only ever half an hour or so from something completely epic, frequently involving a huge battle. The intermittently unresponsive controls are very frustrating, but I seem to be past the huge level spike in enemies, and the ones I'm encountering now are pretty easy to take down... And I've come so far from those first Bunnits, Skeeters and Vangs...
Wednesday, 18 April 2012
Intermittent Rain
Interesting coincidence: I'm watching a Let's Play of the new Silent Hill game - Downpour - and getting rather frustrated with possibly the least observant Let's Player in existence (mentioning no names - I'll praise the good ones by name, but the bad ones aren't worth looking up), who somehow manages to be looking in exactly the wrong direction every time the game attempts a jump-scare (and so he'll comment about the game being cool for leaving out the jump-scares), search the same - empty - locations several times, only to loop back later "just to double-check", and complain that the game doesn't differentiate between things you can pick up to use as a weapon (of which you may only carry one at a time) and things that go into your inventory, or offer any explanation of what it's signalling that you can 'Pick Up'.
Because clearly looking at the object isn't an option. And I don't mean selecting an 'Examine' option within the game, I just mean looking at what's on screen. It's detailed enough, for crying out loud.
Anyway... I'm sitting here, watching this playthrough of a Silent Hill game where the Otherworld is based around water and you get rainstorms rather than snow and fog (although there still seems to be some fog, it's more atmospheric rather than to disguise draw-in distances) and, every so often, the rain is pelting down outside.
And I mean really pelting. At times, it has looks as if it's coming down at very nearly 45 degrees, though the wind doesn't look that high during the dry spells. These dry spells are brief, but tend to be very much brighter, and end up broken by light rain which then leads back into the next deluge.
So far today, I've had two phone calls from one of the careers folks at the local council, one responding to my emailed 'speculative application' letter (and blaming "the IT people" for the delay), the other with another new potential lead... Having just looked at it, it's unlikely to be of any use... but then, at the last meeting, didn't I note down the details of a vacancy for a trainee mortuary technician..?
Because clearly looking at the object isn't an option. And I don't mean selecting an 'Examine' option within the game, I just mean looking at what's on screen. It's detailed enough, for crying out loud.
Anyway... I'm sitting here, watching this playthrough of a Silent Hill game where the Otherworld is based around water and you get rainstorms rather than snow and fog (although there still seems to be some fog, it's more atmospheric rather than to disguise draw-in distances) and, every so often, the rain is pelting down outside.
And I mean really pelting. At times, it has looks as if it's coming down at very nearly 45 degrees, though the wind doesn't look that high during the dry spells. These dry spells are brief, but tend to be very much brighter, and end up broken by light rain which then leads back into the next deluge.
So far today, I've had two phone calls from one of the careers folks at the local council, one responding to my emailed 'speculative application' letter (and blaming "the IT people" for the delay), the other with another new potential lead... Having just looked at it, it's unlikely to be of any use... but then, at the last meeting, didn't I note down the details of a vacancy for a trainee mortuary technician..?
Pandora's Boxed Set
And so the third and final target of the American 'Project Rainfall' campaign hits the UK. I'm pretty sure that, by now, it's US release has been confirmed, so Rainfall can be considered a success... or a wonderful example of American gamers allowing themselves to be baited by Nintendo's strategy of playing its cards close to its chest. Either/or.
I must admit that Pandora's Tower was the one game I was least sure of enjoying. It's a sort of 3D environment platform action adventure, with shades of Castlevania thanks to the inclusion of a very whip-like chain as one of the key gameplay mechanics. Worse still, while Xenoblade is awesome (and I really must get back to it at some point...), The Last Story has, so far, been a bit of a let-down (though that's as much to do with me being rubbish at tactical RPGs as it is to do with the game itself)... There would have had to be a compelling reason for me to pick up Pandora's Tower after such a disappointing showing.
Other than my natural tendency to pick up just about everything released in a console's twilight days, that is. I mean, look at Panzer Dragoon Saga. I picked it up for, what, £35 when it first came out? And now it goes for anything from £50 to over £200 on eBay. Mind you... that is an awesome game...
Thankfully, there was a Collector's Edition, just like The Last Story. Similar 'Steelbook' case, similar artbook... No soundtrack CD this time but, hey, at least it didn't come with a special controller.
The artbook is actually rather more extensive and impressive that the titchy little thing included with TLS but, even so, feels a little lacking. As far as controllers go, this game only needs the traditional Wiimote and Nunchuck arrangement - I'm not sure it's even possible to play with the Classic Controller.
And the game itself? Well... it's actually pretty good fun so far. I've only beaten the first boss at this point, leaving several rooms in the first tower unexplored because they're currently inaccessible (the game warns that you may need to visit some towers more than once, and I certainly haven't found any keys so far), and very little has been revealed of the story. I'm immediately suspicious of Mavda, who claims to be a merchant and so far appears to be helping, and the voice actor for Elena is good enough to elicit sympathy as a confirmed vegetarian who's now forced to eat meat ("beast flesh") to prevent her transformation into a hideous monster.
There's an obvious joke in there, but I shall refrain.
Aeron's voice actor is severely underutilised. Much of that character's vocal output is grunts for his various fighting actions. While he does have dialogue, some of it - most notably in the 'chat' sections of the game - is text-only, even while both Mavda and Elena have full speech.
At this early stage, I'm still having some difficulty remembering which button does what, but I suspect that'll improve with practice. It's also nice that, as has become traditional in recent years, the tutorial plays out as you encounter new ways of interacting with your environment, rather than trying to cram everything in to some completely random and unconnected 'training area'.
Graphically, it's closer to Xenoblade than TLS - much vibrant colour everywhere, though the draw distance isn't a factor because the game is room-based, and the camera position is fixed third person, rather than moving with the player character.
In other news, Grandmother has been moved to a new care home and, by all accounts, is settling in nicely. My mother visited for a second time on Monday and reported the she was behaving "as if she's been there forever", which can only be a good thing. There are more women there, and she'll be far more active, though I'm told there are some folks who are clearly a few sandwiches short of a picnic, so one can only hope that this new place is as close to a healthy environment for an Alzheimer's sufferer as possible.
One interesting bit of advice my mother received was that all the patients tend to get anxious "around teatime". One of them might start worrying about "picking the kids up from school" (even though the kids are fully grown and have families of their own), which will set someone else fretting about where they parked the car (which they gave up driving years ago), etc. I suspect the purpose of this snippet of information was to ensure that any and all visitors are prepared to leave before this wave of anxiety hits.
I must admit that Pandora's Tower was the one game I was least sure of enjoying. It's a sort of 3D environment platform action adventure, with shades of Castlevania thanks to the inclusion of a very whip-like chain as one of the key gameplay mechanics. Worse still, while Xenoblade is awesome (and I really must get back to it at some point...), The Last Story has, so far, been a bit of a let-down (though that's as much to do with me being rubbish at tactical RPGs as it is to do with the game itself)... There would have had to be a compelling reason for me to pick up Pandora's Tower after such a disappointing showing.
Other than my natural tendency to pick up just about everything released in a console's twilight days, that is. I mean, look at Panzer Dragoon Saga. I picked it up for, what, £35 when it first came out? And now it goes for anything from £50 to over £200 on eBay. Mind you... that is an awesome game...
Thankfully, there was a Collector's Edition, just like The Last Story. Similar 'Steelbook' case, similar artbook... No soundtrack CD this time but, hey, at least it didn't come with a special controller.
The artbook is actually rather more extensive and impressive that the titchy little thing included with TLS but, even so, feels a little lacking. As far as controllers go, this game only needs the traditional Wiimote and Nunchuck arrangement - I'm not sure it's even possible to play with the Classic Controller.
And the game itself? Well... it's actually pretty good fun so far. I've only beaten the first boss at this point, leaving several rooms in the first tower unexplored because they're currently inaccessible (the game warns that you may need to visit some towers more than once, and I certainly haven't found any keys so far), and very little has been revealed of the story. I'm immediately suspicious of Mavda, who claims to be a merchant and so far appears to be helping, and the voice actor for Elena is good enough to elicit sympathy as a confirmed vegetarian who's now forced to eat meat ("beast flesh") to prevent her transformation into a hideous monster.
There's an obvious joke in there, but I shall refrain.
Aeron's voice actor is severely underutilised. Much of that character's vocal output is grunts for his various fighting actions. While he does have dialogue, some of it - most notably in the 'chat' sections of the game - is text-only, even while both Mavda and Elena have full speech.
At this early stage, I'm still having some difficulty remembering which button does what, but I suspect that'll improve with practice. It's also nice that, as has become traditional in recent years, the tutorial plays out as you encounter new ways of interacting with your environment, rather than trying to cram everything in to some completely random and unconnected 'training area'.
Graphically, it's closer to Xenoblade than TLS - much vibrant colour everywhere, though the draw distance isn't a factor because the game is room-based, and the camera position is fixed third person, rather than moving with the player character.
In other news, Grandmother has been moved to a new care home and, by all accounts, is settling in nicely. My mother visited for a second time on Monday and reported the she was behaving "as if she's been there forever", which can only be a good thing. There are more women there, and she'll be far more active, though I'm told there are some folks who are clearly a few sandwiches short of a picnic, so one can only hope that this new place is as close to a healthy environment for an Alzheimer's sufferer as possible.
One interesting bit of advice my mother received was that all the patients tend to get anxious "around teatime". One of them might start worrying about "picking the kids up from school" (even though the kids are fully grown and have families of their own), which will set someone else fretting about where they parked the car (which they gave up driving years ago), etc. I suspect the purpose of this snippet of information was to ensure that any and all visitors are prepared to leave before this wave of anxiety hits.
Thursday, 12 April 2012
Two Weeks' Gainful Employment
If there's one thing I can say about Temping, it's that I get to encounter lots of strange new systems... and wonder how anyone can possibly think they're effective.
Not so much true of the first job, which operated a single system for all their titles, and everything about the workflow seemed more-or-less familiar. The second job, however, was truly bizarre. My inner control freak didn't quite know what to make of the outsourcing of Repro, while the multiple workflow systems (one for each of the three external suppliers I was dealing with) seemed a little excessive, and took a lot of getting used to. I often found myself estimating how much time could be saved if it was all done in-house. Must admit, since it was more of a straight admin role than I'm used to, I didn't feel very useful, but they assured me I'd been of great help through a particularly manic period, and that they'd want to call on me again in future, to assist on some of their ad-hoc projects.
Just to make it more fun, it turned out that they have known a couple of my former colleagues and, in fact, one of the current Production Controllers is a former colleague of mine - he wasn't based in in my office, but did often visit back when the both of us worked for the same Publisher - and another of their current staff used to work with one of my former managers at another magazine.
Not so much true of the first job, which operated a single system for all their titles, and everything about the workflow seemed more-or-less familiar. The second job, however, was truly bizarre. My inner control freak didn't quite know what to make of the outsourcing of Repro, while the multiple workflow systems (one for each of the three external suppliers I was dealing with) seemed a little excessive, and took a lot of getting used to. I often found myself estimating how much time could be saved if it was all done in-house. Must admit, since it was more of a straight admin role than I'm used to, I didn't feel very useful, but they assured me I'd been of great help through a particularly manic period, and that they'd want to call on me again in future, to assist on some of their ad-hoc projects.
Just to make it more fun, it turned out that they have known a couple of my former colleagues and, in fact, one of the current Production Controllers is a former colleague of mine - he wasn't based in in my office, but did often visit back when the both of us worked for the same Publisher - and another of their current staff used to work with one of my former managers at another magazine.
The most interesting things about it all were that I really did enjoy being back in an office environment, and that so many people really do not know the meaning of the words 'busy' or 'hectic'. I was supposedly drafted in to cover in some pretty busy periods, but I never really felt any pressure, and couldn't understand why my temporary colleagues would either. On my last day in the second job, I was allowed to sit idle for a good few hours in the afternoon, because there was just nothing to do. Bearing in mind they were producing over a dozen titles each month (monthlies, bi-monthlies, quarterlies, random supplements, etc.), and that I'd had to monitor three email accounts for copy destined for one magazine, it really looked as if most of the struggle was because of a chaotic workflow. I hinted as much a couple of times, but they told me I was seeing them at their most disorganised because of holidays and maternity leave. By my last day, one of them had revised his opinion, and admitted that it was only in trying to explain their systems to me that they realised how crazy some of them are.
(Addendum 13/4 - Also strange was the differing levels of customer service between members of the team. My first instruction was that any problem artwork should be thrown straight back at the supplier, along with a copy of the magazine's mechanical specifications. When the guy I was covering for 2 days returned, he said that he tended to fix anything - coming from a technical repro background himself - but warned against setting precedents where possible. By the time another of their number had returned from holiday, I had started fixing everything and then asking the relevant full-timer whether or not they'd prefer the artwork to be resupplied... But even here there were differenced between the full-timers. One in particular clearly did not trust a mere Temp to do any troubleshooting so, in a fit of pique, when he said he'd 'deal with' a piece of faulty artwork, I deleted my fixed version and handed over the original, faulty PDF.)
(Addendum 13/4 - Also strange was the differing levels of customer service between members of the team. My first instruction was that any problem artwork should be thrown straight back at the supplier, along with a copy of the magazine's mechanical specifications. When the guy I was covering for 2 days returned, he said that he tended to fix anything - coming from a technical repro background himself - but warned against setting precedents where possible. By the time another of their number had returned from holiday, I had started fixing everything and then asking the relevant full-timer whether or not they'd prefer the artwork to be resupplied... But even here there were differenced between the full-timers. One in particular clearly did not trust a mere Temp to do any troubleshooting so, in a fit of pique, when he said he'd 'deal with' a piece of faulty artwork, I deleted my fixed version and handed over the original, faulty PDF.)
Earlier today, I spent some time at the local Work Club, learning about the dreaded Interview. As with my last visit, it was a lively, interesting and useful event, which went some way to explaining why certain things were so important within the interview proces. Also quite fun to compare and contrast my interview experiences - both as interviewer and interviewee - with those of the others. It's yet another of those things I was quite sceptical about before I went... but, if nothing else, it's getting me out of home, meeting all kinds of people I'd never usually meet, which seems to be helping forestall my inevitable slide back into 'teh mopeyz' while I'm out of work.
Monday, 9 April 2012
As if I needed something else to feel bad about...
...Today, I went to see my Grandmother for the first time since Christmas, and the first time in her current nursing home.
I say 'current' because, having visited today, I all but insisted to my mother that she couldn't stay there.
The place she's in is actually quite lovely... I mean, in a way, it's at the nice end of 'basic hotel accommodation', with a communal lounge, all meals provided, weekly visits from a hairdresser, on-site nursing and doctors on call 24/7, a very pretty garden which must be wonderful in summer... But she's the only (English) woman there and, with her mind and memory the way they are, she's not adjusting well to the situation.
Grandmother herself reminds me of the last part of Shakespeare's 'The Seven Ages of Man':
At several points during our - mercifully brief - visit, she wondered who everyone else was, what they were doing there, etc. She was visibly angry at people "arriving unannounced" or "without asking anyone first" and "taking over the place", and just couldn't process the explanation that the other people were arriving to visit their relatives, didn't need to ask. She obviously isn't fully aware of where she is, because she complained that she was "paying for it all". Anyone passing by would be subjected to the same intense, distrustful scrutiny, no matter how many times they passed by, because she's no longer able to remember any of them from one moment to the next. More often than not, by the time my mother had finished reminding her who these people were, Grandmother could not remember why she had been given a list of names.
In the next room, one of the more troublesome tenants - thrown out of another nursing home because they couldn't cope - would call out "Hello! Hello! Hello! Hello!" whenever left alone for a few moments and, when he wasn't complaining that he couldn't hear anything (until his hearing aid was adjusted by the only nurse on duty this Bank Holiday Monday) he'd repeatedly ask when his daughter would be coming. Invariably, the answer was "tomorrow", but it sounds as though everyone's telling him that every day, and it became painfully obvious that she never actually shows up.
Should one hope that his dementia is so severe that he doesn't know how many 'tomorrows' have passed? That's too big a question for me to answer.
She looks awful, too... small and frail, rings rattling on bony fingers with skin that looks like ancient parchment. She's still able to move under her own steam - shuffling off to investigate the noises from the kitchen to ensure they weren't wrecking her best china (which isn't even there) - and even pulling the armchairs about a bit. Once she's engaged in a conversation, she almost seems normal... but the discomfort, frustration, anger and fear are always lurking beneath the surface. She's skipping on some of her medication, too - spitting pills and half-chewed calcium tablets into tissues and stashing them in her handbag. My mother collected about a dozen, rooting through that bag. I suggested she speak to the management about having the pills broken up and added to her food.
There's another nursing home nearby that, at first glance, seems much better - more women, more lively and inclusive - but Grandmother was apparently quite nasty about it after a brief visit for lunch at the end of last week. She's still with-it enough to be very two-faced - told the ladies already resident that she'd be delighted to see them again, but told her daughter that she didn't want to go back there as soon as they were out of the door.
Since I never made the time to visit my other Grandmother while she was ailing in hospital, I needed to visit this one - partly to make up for my previous negligence, and partly just to look for some glimmer of hope that she wasn't as bad as she seems to be. Even having visited her today, though, I feel like the worst kind of bastard, because I haven't seen her since Christmas and, before that, I'd barely seen her since the previous Christmas.
Hard enough to see someone wasting away through old age... Much worse to see them ravaged by Alzheimer's and "sans everything".
I say 'current' because, having visited today, I all but insisted to my mother that she couldn't stay there.
The place she's in is actually quite lovely... I mean, in a way, it's at the nice end of 'basic hotel accommodation', with a communal lounge, all meals provided, weekly visits from a hairdresser, on-site nursing and doctors on call 24/7, a very pretty garden which must be wonderful in summer... But she's the only (English) woman there and, with her mind and memory the way they are, she's not adjusting well to the situation.
Grandmother herself reminds me of the last part of Shakespeare's 'The Seven Ages of Man':
Last scene of all,Not only is she being eroded without and within - by age and by Alzheimer's - but she is very much in the throes of second childishness. It's not hard to compare her behaviour to that of my 2 1/2 year old niece. Both are confused at the comings and goings around them, resentful of perceived 'intrusions', claiming ownership of everything within reach, and making it very plain when they've had enough.
That ends this strange eventful history,
Is second childishness and mere oblivion,
Sans teeth, sans eyes, sans taste, sans everything.
At several points during our - mercifully brief - visit, she wondered who everyone else was, what they were doing there, etc. She was visibly angry at people "arriving unannounced" or "without asking anyone first" and "taking over the place", and just couldn't process the explanation that the other people were arriving to visit their relatives, didn't need to ask. She obviously isn't fully aware of where she is, because she complained that she was "paying for it all". Anyone passing by would be subjected to the same intense, distrustful scrutiny, no matter how many times they passed by, because she's no longer able to remember any of them from one moment to the next. More often than not, by the time my mother had finished reminding her who these people were, Grandmother could not remember why she had been given a list of names.
In the next room, one of the more troublesome tenants - thrown out of another nursing home because they couldn't cope - would call out "Hello! Hello! Hello! Hello!" whenever left alone for a few moments and, when he wasn't complaining that he couldn't hear anything (until his hearing aid was adjusted by the only nurse on duty this Bank Holiday Monday) he'd repeatedly ask when his daughter would be coming. Invariably, the answer was "tomorrow", but it sounds as though everyone's telling him that every day, and it became painfully obvious that she never actually shows up.
Should one hope that his dementia is so severe that he doesn't know how many 'tomorrows' have passed? That's too big a question for me to answer.
She looks awful, too... small and frail, rings rattling on bony fingers with skin that looks like ancient parchment. She's still able to move under her own steam - shuffling off to investigate the noises from the kitchen to ensure they weren't wrecking her best china (which isn't even there) - and even pulling the armchairs about a bit. Once she's engaged in a conversation, she almost seems normal... but the discomfort, frustration, anger and fear are always lurking beneath the surface. She's skipping on some of her medication, too - spitting pills and half-chewed calcium tablets into tissues and stashing them in her handbag. My mother collected about a dozen, rooting through that bag. I suggested she speak to the management about having the pills broken up and added to her food.
There's another nursing home nearby that, at first glance, seems much better - more women, more lively and inclusive - but Grandmother was apparently quite nasty about it after a brief visit for lunch at the end of last week. She's still with-it enough to be very two-faced - told the ladies already resident that she'd be delighted to see them again, but told her daughter that she didn't want to go back there as soon as they were out of the door.
Since I never made the time to visit my other Grandmother while she was ailing in hospital, I needed to visit this one - partly to make up for my previous negligence, and partly just to look for some glimmer of hope that she wasn't as bad as she seems to be. Even having visited her today, though, I feel like the worst kind of bastard, because I haven't seen her since Christmas and, before that, I'd barely seen her since the previous Christmas.
Hard enough to see someone wasting away through old age... Much worse to see them ravaged by Alzheimer's and "sans everything".
Monday, 2 April 2012
On the Prostitution of Icons
First off, I'd just like to clarify that, while I'm a huge sci-fi and fantasy geek, I don't hold anything as sacred. I'm not one of these people who are so wrapped up in the original Star Trek that the JJ Abrams re-imagining becomes a foul heresy (no, that was the TV series 'Enterprise', which turned our super-advanced 22nd century descendants into whiny, selfish losers who acted like teenagers, thoroughly pissing all over Gene Roddenberry's original vision). Even the TransFormers movies - with the toyline being a favourite of mine for a good portion of my life - create a new continuity rather than destroying that which has gone before.
The Star Wars movies are only a special case because they were utterly ruined by the very man who created them. Ruined by terribly underwritten prequels that failed to match the tone and/or scope of the originals, featuring gross caricatures of characters, weak, confused plots and some of the flattest 'acting' I've ever seen from some brilliant actors. But when, some years ago, Lucas decided to remix his original trilogy, improving the special effects and reinstating scenes that had been cut because they weren't quite up to scratch thanks to the technology (and casting - Jabba the Hutt, for example) of the time, I thought that was pretty cool of him.
But then he just wouldn't stop.
And so, now, the original trilogy has even more 'force ghosts', and the stoic Darth Vader has a vocal emotional outburst when the Emperor realises Skywalker Junior cannot be turned to the Dark Side and attempts to remedy this situation before it becomes a bigger problem.
In general, I choose to deny the prequels. The stories of Luke Skywalker, Han Solo, Leia Organa and all their chums were perfectly sufficient for me. I don't need to know what came before, or after, beyond what was implied by those movies.
Even so, I wouldn't normally get fussed over Star Wars-related things being messed around with. Ultimately, they are just movies. Sure, they form one of the greatest space operas known to popular culture... but they're also heavily derivative. All the cartoons and CGI animated series have their place. I'm cool with that.
But now we have Yoda - Jedi Master extraordinaire - in advertisements for Vodafone. Some everyday person seems, at first glance, to be having some diabolical problem with their cellphone. Yoda, clearly sensing a disturbance in the Force, steps in to assist... only to see it demonstrated that Vodafone are positively saturated with Midi-chlorians, and their customer's woes were all the ancient Jedi's mind, having been pre-emptively dealt with by the network.
I cannot adequately express how wrong I feel this to be.
Considering the fervour of the most vocal Star Wars fans - and particularly those who campaigned to get 'Jedi' officially recognised as a religion - how can Lucas allow one of his most revered creations, the dimiutive green Master, to be turned into a mere advertising tool?
Obvious, really.
A friend of mine has always maintained that any job, regardless of its purpose, is a form of prostitution. One is paid to perform a function, whatever that may be. But this is - or should be - different. This is an icon of cinematic fantasy being used to flog mobile telecommunications services.
Lucas appears to care nothing for his Star Wars properties beyond the money they suck in. He appears to care nothing for the legions of loyal fans who truly love these movies and, even now, continue to purchase his merchandise. He seems only to care that they do continue to purchase the merchandise, and this repeated 'tinkering' with the films is just a symptom of this.
I wouldn't be surprised if the next iteration of the Yoda action figure actually comes with a miniature Vodaphone handset, complete with corporate livery.
Of course, it occurs to me now that I didn't get worked up about Optimus Prime and Megatron being used to sell whatever portable electronic device LG were flogging around the time of the first Michael Bay movie... but I guess I just know what to expect when a toy company turns one of its toy lines into a movie franchise. Hell, there's always some kind of tie-in with either Burger King or MacDonalds...
I guess it comes down to context... and the nagging feeling that perhaps - just perhaps - some things should be considered too important to be used to advertise consumer electronics that are not directly related to their originating franchise...
The Star Wars movies are only a special case because they were utterly ruined by the very man who created them. Ruined by terribly underwritten prequels that failed to match the tone and/or scope of the originals, featuring gross caricatures of characters, weak, confused plots and some of the flattest 'acting' I've ever seen from some brilliant actors. But when, some years ago, Lucas decided to remix his original trilogy, improving the special effects and reinstating scenes that had been cut because they weren't quite up to scratch thanks to the technology (and casting - Jabba the Hutt, for example) of the time, I thought that was pretty cool of him.
But then he just wouldn't stop.
And so, now, the original trilogy has even more 'force ghosts', and the stoic Darth Vader has a vocal emotional outburst when the Emperor realises Skywalker Junior cannot be turned to the Dark Side and attempts to remedy this situation before it becomes a bigger problem.
In general, I choose to deny the prequels. The stories of Luke Skywalker, Han Solo, Leia Organa and all their chums were perfectly sufficient for me. I don't need to know what came before, or after, beyond what was implied by those movies.
Even so, I wouldn't normally get fussed over Star Wars-related things being messed around with. Ultimately, they are just movies. Sure, they form one of the greatest space operas known to popular culture... but they're also heavily derivative. All the cartoons and CGI animated series have their place. I'm cool with that.
But now we have Yoda - Jedi Master extraordinaire - in advertisements for Vodafone. Some everyday person seems, at first glance, to be having some diabolical problem with their cellphone. Yoda, clearly sensing a disturbance in the Force, steps in to assist... only to see it demonstrated that Vodafone are positively saturated with Midi-chlorians, and their customer's woes were all the ancient Jedi's mind, having been pre-emptively dealt with by the network.
I cannot adequately express how wrong I feel this to be.
Considering the fervour of the most vocal Star Wars fans - and particularly those who campaigned to get 'Jedi' officially recognised as a religion - how can Lucas allow one of his most revered creations, the dimiutive green Master, to be turned into a mere advertising tool?
Obvious, really.
A friend of mine has always maintained that any job, regardless of its purpose, is a form of prostitution. One is paid to perform a function, whatever that may be. But this is - or should be - different. This is an icon of cinematic fantasy being used to flog mobile telecommunications services.
Lucas appears to care nothing for his Star Wars properties beyond the money they suck in. He appears to care nothing for the legions of loyal fans who truly love these movies and, even now, continue to purchase his merchandise. He seems only to care that they do continue to purchase the merchandise, and this repeated 'tinkering' with the films is just a symptom of this.
I wouldn't be surprised if the next iteration of the Yoda action figure actually comes with a miniature Vodaphone handset, complete with corporate livery.
Of course, it occurs to me now that I didn't get worked up about Optimus Prime and Megatron being used to sell whatever portable electronic device LG were flogging around the time of the first Michael Bay movie... but I guess I just know what to expect when a toy company turns one of its toy lines into a movie franchise. Hell, there's always some kind of tie-in with either Burger King or MacDonalds...
I guess it comes down to context... and the nagging feeling that perhaps - just perhaps - some things should be considered too important to be used to advertise consumer electronics that are not directly related to their originating franchise...
Sunday, 1 April 2012
Is Work Working?
So, following on from my diagnosis - by a healthcare professional (albeit a GP rather than a shrink) - as an Unemployed Workaholic Creative Personality, I've got one full week of gainful employment under my belt and another (4-day) week starting tomorrow, with the possibility that my time may be extended if they feel they need me after Easter. Now's as good a time as any to ask myself how I'm feeling.
Considering my temporary employers did such a wonderful job of bolstering my ego, it should come as no surprise that I'm feeling more confident about my next job, despite it being something completely different (it sounds as though it'll be more ferrying stuff around rather than actually getting my hands dirty). Most of my panic about returning to an office-based situation has evaporated. Where I was last week, they had spoken about being busy... but, just like every office I've ever worked in, that sense of pressure would be reduced significantly if everyone cut the chatter and just got on with the work.
But that's just me not considering the human element. Tsk.
Communication is a natural part of the office culture - it mitigates the sense of boredom or frustration of being locked to a desk, builds a sense of camaraderie, etc. - and the fact that the time it helps to pass is time that should be spent of more important things is, really, neither here nor there. The work gets done, and everyone's happy with their contribution.
It was quite telling of that particular situation that one of the folks on my table had a pot of 'After Dinner Conversation Starters' on little sticks, and one or two of these would be drawn out each afternoon. Such questions as "when was the last time you felt guilty?" all tended to produce single-sentence answers rather than promoting actual flowing conversation and, generally, the only answers that got discussed to any degree were mine (to that specific question, I said that I couldn't remember because I don't tend to dwell on it... but subsequently I have realised that I experience pangs of guilt in such silly circumstances as switching on the television to watch Hellcats on Viva... Does that count?). It got me wondering if either the 'After Dinner Conversation Starters' were inherently flawed in some way, or if the folks trying them were simply not willing to be drawn into a conversation on those subjects.
And that could have been a conversation on its own...
That last week has proven to me that memory is a muscle, in that it needs exercise in order to function optimally. Broadly speaking, my memory is excellent. I can remember all kinds of weird things... but, last week, I couldn't recall details of jobs I'd processed only moments before, because the client names were unfamiliar to me, and because their way of working relied so heavily on automated systems that I wasn't interacting directly with troublesome jobs. It also didn't help that some clients could be referred to by several different names... Or that, as well as taking the wheel on one magazine, I was assisting on two others, one of which was less urgent, and all of which had some common advertisers.
I did well, overall, but there were lots of glitches in my performance that I wasn't especially happy with... but that's just me. Again. My temporary boss put it down to not having explained very thoroughly, due to being busy herself... which is entirely accurate... but, still...
But, to return to the root question, how am I feeling?
Well, to be honest, I'm not sure if this is due to the 'relaxing weekend' or just the fact that I've spent a brief period in an office, and now I'm conscious of being out again and, moreover, on to a different office next week, but I'm actually feeling rather down.
Working was a great experience - using my skills and experience, dealing with people as well as artwork, and working on a physical product has always given me a bit of a rush. It's quite obvious when I'm enjoying myself because I become more animated, talkative and energetic... Pretty much all of that has gone again already, though I do still feel proud of the work I did last week (with that little nagging feeling that I missed something that will cost the company money... even though I'm certain that isn't the case). The enthusiasm, and the drive to just do stuff is nowhere to be found, though, and my head is as muddled as it has been during the year-and-a-quarter since I was made redundant.
This seems to confirm a suspicion I raised with my GP - that, while working, whatever's getting me down is pushed aside or compartmentalised because it's not relevant to the task at hand. The self-doubt was there while I was working, but the nigh-constant activity meant I didn't have time to dwell on it. Experience tells me that if the artwork behaves as expected at every point in my processes, it will behave on the press as expected, too, so there's no real reason - other than my own insecurities and self-critical nature - to believe any different.
But work - or, at least, one week of being something approaching vaguely busy in an office - hasn't broken through the dark cloud that's been hovering about me for ages. I'm not really 'in the mood' for sketching, writing (other than this, which doesn't really count, obviously. Duh) or cooking creatively.
I did do the hoovering this morning, though. And I did the dishes. And I put my new telescope together and dismantled the old one (for which I seem to have mislaid the instructions). I even popped down the road to buy supplies for my four-days-or-more this coming week.
So maybe it's just my self-criticism that prevents me seeing that as "something to be proud of"...
Let's see how the coming week plays out.
Considering my temporary employers did such a wonderful job of bolstering my ego, it should come as no surprise that I'm feeling more confident about my next job, despite it being something completely different (it sounds as though it'll be more ferrying stuff around rather than actually getting my hands dirty). Most of my panic about returning to an office-based situation has evaporated. Where I was last week, they had spoken about being busy... but, just like every office I've ever worked in, that sense of pressure would be reduced significantly if everyone cut the chatter and just got on with the work.
But that's just me not considering the human element. Tsk.
Communication is a natural part of the office culture - it mitigates the sense of boredom or frustration of being locked to a desk, builds a sense of camaraderie, etc. - and the fact that the time it helps to pass is time that should be spent of more important things is, really, neither here nor there. The work gets done, and everyone's happy with their contribution.
It was quite telling of that particular situation that one of the folks on my table had a pot of 'After Dinner Conversation Starters' on little sticks, and one or two of these would be drawn out each afternoon. Such questions as "when was the last time you felt guilty?" all tended to produce single-sentence answers rather than promoting actual flowing conversation and, generally, the only answers that got discussed to any degree were mine (to that specific question, I said that I couldn't remember because I don't tend to dwell on it... but subsequently I have realised that I experience pangs of guilt in such silly circumstances as switching on the television to watch Hellcats on Viva... Does that count?). It got me wondering if either the 'After Dinner Conversation Starters' were inherently flawed in some way, or if the folks trying them were simply not willing to be drawn into a conversation on those subjects.
And that could have been a conversation on its own...
That last week has proven to me that memory is a muscle, in that it needs exercise in order to function optimally. Broadly speaking, my memory is excellent. I can remember all kinds of weird things... but, last week, I couldn't recall details of jobs I'd processed only moments before, because the client names were unfamiliar to me, and because their way of working relied so heavily on automated systems that I wasn't interacting directly with troublesome jobs. It also didn't help that some clients could be referred to by several different names... Or that, as well as taking the wheel on one magazine, I was assisting on two others, one of which was less urgent, and all of which had some common advertisers.
I did well, overall, but there were lots of glitches in my performance that I wasn't especially happy with... but that's just me. Again. My temporary boss put it down to not having explained very thoroughly, due to being busy herself... which is entirely accurate... but, still...
But, to return to the root question, how am I feeling?
Well, to be honest, I'm not sure if this is due to the 'relaxing weekend' or just the fact that I've spent a brief period in an office, and now I'm conscious of being out again and, moreover, on to a different office next week, but I'm actually feeling rather down.
Working was a great experience - using my skills and experience, dealing with people as well as artwork, and working on a physical product has always given me a bit of a rush. It's quite obvious when I'm enjoying myself because I become more animated, talkative and energetic... Pretty much all of that has gone again already, though I do still feel proud of the work I did last week (with that little nagging feeling that I missed something that will cost the company money... even though I'm certain that isn't the case). The enthusiasm, and the drive to just do stuff is nowhere to be found, though, and my head is as muddled as it has been during the year-and-a-quarter since I was made redundant.
This seems to confirm a suspicion I raised with my GP - that, while working, whatever's getting me down is pushed aside or compartmentalised because it's not relevant to the task at hand. The self-doubt was there while I was working, but the nigh-constant activity meant I didn't have time to dwell on it. Experience tells me that if the artwork behaves as expected at every point in my processes, it will behave on the press as expected, too, so there's no real reason - other than my own insecurities and self-critical nature - to believe any different.
But work - or, at least, one week of being something approaching vaguely busy in an office - hasn't broken through the dark cloud that's been hovering about me for ages. I'm not really 'in the mood' for sketching, writing (other than this, which doesn't really count, obviously. Duh) or cooking creatively.
I did do the hoovering this morning, though. And I did the dishes. And I put my new telescope together and dismantled the old one (for which I seem to have mislaid the instructions). I even popped down the road to buy supplies for my four-days-or-more this coming week.
So maybe it's just my self-criticism that prevents me seeing that as "something to be proud of"...
Let's see how the coming week plays out.
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