Ok I don't generally like football. Don't mind playing it so much but its definately one of my least favourite sports of all time, and thats saying something, believe me. But when you watch your national team play at a sport we're SUPPOSED to be good at get annihilated to Germany, it raises more than just a few eyebrows, especially when considering these idiots get paid several times your average man's yearly wages a month to kick a fucking ball around.
Remember when football used to be about a couple of lads getting together after work or school for a kick around? Remember when it was about playing the game and not about making obscene amounts of money? Neither do I
And I know people pay loads to watch football, and even more to go see it live, but that just says more embarassing truths about the sport and the industry in it. Surely the fans want their money to be soent on better trainers, better players, better managers etc. After all, they're the ones who fork out the money that goes into the player's, managers' and inverstors' ridiculously huge wages, so don't they fucking deserve to see their team win once in a while?
Monday, 28 June 2010
Saturday, 26 June 2010
Review: Swiftly by Adam Roberts
WARING: POSSIBLE SPOILERS MIGHT FOLLOW!
Has anyone ever had this happen to them: You hear about this book, read what its about, and then for a good year or so want nothing more than to tear into it, particularly if its set in 19th century Britain and involves a war between Britain and France with some elements of fantasy? And then, you read said book and then become utterly dissapointed by the end and the overall content of the bloody thing? Well, I've had that happen several times, such as Lemony Snicket's Series of Unfortunate Events (unfortunate in that the ending SUCKED BALLS!), the final Harry Potter book, and...well, many of the other thousands of books I've read. Now this is down to either two things, either I have ridiculously high standards or there are no good authors out there who's names aren't Bernard Cornwell, Tim Stretton and Stan Nichols. But for the majority of this book by Mr Adam Roberts there seemed to be a lot missing, both from the plot and the universe created inside.
Ok before I go I feel I must say a bit about the actual setting first. Basically, the novel is set in pre-Victorian England, where the British Empire has become technologically advanced thanks to the enslavement of the people from Jonathan Swift's 'Gulliver's Travels, i.e. the Lilliputians, who are exactly 12 times smaller than human beings and three times as annoying. These people are used to construct advanced devices such as little flying-machines, intricate fabrics and other brilliant aspects of technology impossible by then-human standards. However, there is very little emphasis of this technology in the book, and you'd think there'd be more of it being a science-fiction novel during the single most amazing century in British history, such as man-sized aircraft, airships, clockwork cars, some kind of repeating rifle or machine gun, but in fact technology plays a very small part of the actual story, other than on a kind of mission that doesn't really go anywhere. In fact, the only real technology mentioned is a gigantic cannon at York, some kind of mystical spaceship and...well, thats basically it. You'd think for a Victorian-science fiction there'd be greater emphasis on steam-powered machinery, maybe some kind of gigantic steam-powered tank or mecha, but no such luck I'm afraid, so if a technologically-focused book is what you're after I'd say look somewhere else chappie. Robert's portrayal of Victorians, whilst accurate and enjoyable, sadly fails to make up for this.
Not only that, but there's huge holes missing from the plot, enough to severely confuse the reader similar to a cat playing with a pet-toy, only to lose sight of it and upon finding it again feel extremely depressed and self-concious. This sort of thing happens particularly towards the end of the final chapter, but you'll have to read this for yourself, lazy person. However, even without that, there's still many gaps in the storyline, especially for one of the main characters, Eleanor Burton. For example, she has something of a meeting with this German Count, a few days before her wedding, but after paying his bail after becoming arrested, nothing is heard from him again. And more to the point, how did she come to be picked up by Colonel Larroche on a journey that should have played a greater role, but instead had a very small spart in the plot of the novel.
In spite of its faults, Swiftly nevertheless remains a decent read, as well as being highly influential and invokves some deep thinking, but messes itself around too much in the Titanic-sinking holes in the plot and the lack of creativity in the universe created by Mr Roberts. Not only that, but its the only book I've read so far that's made sex boring! You have to give the author credit for satire but at the same time there's satire enough throughout the rest of the novel without the concealed messages of 'sex is bad'.
In short, the main features of the book are a French invasion of England, a plague, a ridiculously long carriage ride that has bugger-all affect on the rest of the storyline and some quite vivid detail into how someone shat themselves. I enjoyed reading it but found that Swiftly ultimately fails as a science fiction, on the grounds that there should be more science and less fiction. I know most readers prefer a balance between those two but they have to support each other, which is another sorely lacking element of this well-written novel.
Has anyone ever had this happen to them: You hear about this book, read what its about, and then for a good year or so want nothing more than to tear into it, particularly if its set in 19th century Britain and involves a war between Britain and France with some elements of fantasy? And then, you read said book and then become utterly dissapointed by the end and the overall content of the bloody thing? Well, I've had that happen several times, such as Lemony Snicket's Series of Unfortunate Events (unfortunate in that the ending SUCKED BALLS!), the final Harry Potter book, and...well, many of the other thousands of books I've read. Now this is down to either two things, either I have ridiculously high standards or there are no good authors out there who's names aren't Bernard Cornwell, Tim Stretton and Stan Nichols. But for the majority of this book by Mr Adam Roberts there seemed to be a lot missing, both from the plot and the universe created inside.
Ok before I go I feel I must say a bit about the actual setting first. Basically, the novel is set in pre-Victorian England, where the British Empire has become technologically advanced thanks to the enslavement of the people from Jonathan Swift's 'Gulliver's Travels, i.e. the Lilliputians, who are exactly 12 times smaller than human beings and three times as annoying. These people are used to construct advanced devices such as little flying-machines, intricate fabrics and other brilliant aspects of technology impossible by then-human standards. However, there is very little emphasis of this technology in the book, and you'd think there'd be more of it being a science-fiction novel during the single most amazing century in British history, such as man-sized aircraft, airships, clockwork cars, some kind of repeating rifle or machine gun, but in fact technology plays a very small part of the actual story, other than on a kind of mission that doesn't really go anywhere. In fact, the only real technology mentioned is a gigantic cannon at York, some kind of mystical spaceship and...well, thats basically it. You'd think for a Victorian-science fiction there'd be greater emphasis on steam-powered machinery, maybe some kind of gigantic steam-powered tank or mecha, but no such luck I'm afraid, so if a technologically-focused book is what you're after I'd say look somewhere else chappie. Robert's portrayal of Victorians, whilst accurate and enjoyable, sadly fails to make up for this.
Not only that, but there's huge holes missing from the plot, enough to severely confuse the reader similar to a cat playing with a pet-toy, only to lose sight of it and upon finding it again feel extremely depressed and self-concious. This sort of thing happens particularly towards the end of the final chapter, but you'll have to read this for yourself, lazy person. However, even without that, there's still many gaps in the storyline, especially for one of the main characters, Eleanor Burton. For example, she has something of a meeting with this German Count, a few days before her wedding, but after paying his bail after becoming arrested, nothing is heard from him again. And more to the point, how did she come to be picked up by Colonel Larroche on a journey that should have played a greater role, but instead had a very small spart in the plot of the novel.
In spite of its faults, Swiftly nevertheless remains a decent read, as well as being highly influential and invokves some deep thinking, but messes itself around too much in the Titanic-sinking holes in the plot and the lack of creativity in the universe created by Mr Roberts. Not only that, but its the only book I've read so far that's made sex boring! You have to give the author credit for satire but at the same time there's satire enough throughout the rest of the novel without the concealed messages of 'sex is bad'.
In short, the main features of the book are a French invasion of England, a plague, a ridiculously long carriage ride that has bugger-all affect on the rest of the storyline and some quite vivid detail into how someone shat themselves. I enjoyed reading it but found that Swiftly ultimately fails as a science fiction, on the grounds that there should be more science and less fiction. I know most readers prefer a balance between those two but they have to support each other, which is another sorely lacking element of this well-written novel.
Monday, 7 June 2010
Where's the hoover?
Wow, so much dust here. Its doing my allergies no favours I can tell you.
But anyway the reasons for my long absense have not been immigration, illness, my house attacked by pirates (Seriously how cool would that be?), boarding school, mugging or death (clearly). No, the reason is largely due to the fact that over the past month I've been slaving over a hot text-book for my exams, which has left little time for doing my usual activites that aren't determined by my A-levels (hence why the British elections went the way they did). However, exams are over, a few days after my birthday on the 21st, and this has left me with a shitload of free time when I'm not assisting with gardening or out job hunting (which I've had some success with whilst I'm on the subject). But anyway, this has meant I'm able to finally get on with some decent writing, which I've been doing a shitload of recently. My friends have been supportive of this, especially my friend Sir Dave of Faith (real name Alex), whose experiences with Dan Abnett's Gaunt's Ghosts series has provided me with some ideas not to mention a shitload of inspiration.
Anyways, since I'm getting back into writing I've been working mainly on my main novel, although I've been experimenting with other themes and genres. So in the coming weeks, expect samples based of the following:
-Historical fiction (i.e. a short story to commemorate the soldiers in the BEF at Dunkirk)
-An Urban Fantasy short, where goths are not all they seem...
-A steampunk story inspired by my experience at the London May MCM Expo (that place was fucking ace!)
And anything else I damn well please. So my little munchkins, until next time
The Beard
PS: Do yourselves a favour and follow this link, http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TrtKmjGjhro , this is the song that has kept me going throughout my exams. May it do the same for you.
But anyway the reasons for my long absense have not been immigration, illness, my house attacked by pirates (Seriously how cool would that be?), boarding school, mugging or death (clearly). No, the reason is largely due to the fact that over the past month I've been slaving over a hot text-book for my exams, which has left little time for doing my usual activites that aren't determined by my A-levels (hence why the British elections went the way they did). However, exams are over, a few days after my birthday on the 21st, and this has left me with a shitload of free time when I'm not assisting with gardening or out job hunting (which I've had some success with whilst I'm on the subject). But anyway, this has meant I'm able to finally get on with some decent writing, which I've been doing a shitload of recently. My friends have been supportive of this, especially my friend Sir Dave of Faith (real name Alex), whose experiences with Dan Abnett's Gaunt's Ghosts series has provided me with some ideas not to mention a shitload of inspiration.
Anyways, since I'm getting back into writing I've been working mainly on my main novel, although I've been experimenting with other themes and genres. So in the coming weeks, expect samples based of the following:
-Historical fiction (i.e. a short story to commemorate the soldiers in the BEF at Dunkirk)
-An Urban Fantasy short, where goths are not all they seem...
-A steampunk story inspired by my experience at the London May MCM Expo (that place was fucking ace!)
And anything else I damn well please. So my little munchkins, until next time
The Beard
PS: Do yourselves a favour and follow this link, http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TrtKmjGjhro , this is the song that has kept me going throughout my exams. May it do the same for you.
Thursday, 8 April 2010
No Excuses
Well this is probably the quickest update I've ever made on this blog so far but I was encouraged to vent my feeling after having watched this video:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ryH2WemACIM&feature=related
Now, I'm a gamer, a gamer in the same sense that Gordon Brown is a politian. I suck at playing games of course but I'm still into it and it's my hope to become a games writer at some point in my writing career. But after having watched this I was filled with the gaming equivalent of patriotism, which surprisingly isn't that big in this country for fear of being branded a member of the BNP. But I'm going off topic, so where was I...Ah yes.
Well, the lady with the blonde hair is clearly some kind of Mormon or Jehovah's Witness who sees video games as a mortal sin because apparently they corrupt children. Now, yes, I can say that video games can have this effect, and I say this since as I am a writer I have been frequently inspired in my writings by what I have seen whilst spending a late night playing Rachet and Clank: Tools of Destruction (But saying 'can' doesn't mean 'will', as you should know by now you word-twisting little sod). So I'm not denying the psychological effects games can have on a mind but then again, so do films, movies, even cartoons where impossible feats of violence are accomplished (like in Ed, Edd and Eddy-fuck I love that show). But going back to what was said, how with gaming you become part of the action that is occurring. Well, I sincerely disagree with the belief that this is more damaging than being a spectator to watching a man having his eyeballs removed with a spoon on the end of a pneumatic drill, and not to mention that, with this kind of interaction you only become as involved with the actual violence depending on how good you are or how much you want to be.
But even now I can hear those over-worried concerned mothers weeping and saying 'But our kids will do it anyway' etc whilst their children play with fireworks and matches on the edge of a race-track. Oh cry me a fucking river why don't you? Seriously, I see this unnecessary bitching as being nothing more than crap parents not wanting to face up to their responsibilities as parents in ensuring that their kids don't become serial killers as a result of playing a fictional character gunning down Russian civilians. The games have labels on them, they clearly say that this game is not meant to be bought by anyone under-16 and similar. So if your children are buying such games but are under-age, then you have no-one to blame but yourselves for not being with them during their purchase or for not making yourselves a bigger part of your children's lives. Seriously, stop blaming the games industry, go into your kid's bedroom and drive a sledgehammer into their Xbox 360. And then do the same through your spinal column for being a shit parent, and for good measure. Trust me, you deserve it.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ryH2WemACIM&feature=related
Now, I'm a gamer, a gamer in the same sense that Gordon Brown is a politian. I suck at playing games of course but I'm still into it and it's my hope to become a games writer at some point in my writing career. But after having watched this I was filled with the gaming equivalent of patriotism, which surprisingly isn't that big in this country for fear of being branded a member of the BNP. But I'm going off topic, so where was I...Ah yes.
Well, the lady with the blonde hair is clearly some kind of Mormon or Jehovah's Witness who sees video games as a mortal sin because apparently they corrupt children. Now, yes, I can say that video games can have this effect, and I say this since as I am a writer I have been frequently inspired in my writings by what I have seen whilst spending a late night playing Rachet and Clank: Tools of Destruction (But saying 'can' doesn't mean 'will', as you should know by now you word-twisting little sod). So I'm not denying the psychological effects games can have on a mind but then again, so do films, movies, even cartoons where impossible feats of violence are accomplished (like in Ed, Edd and Eddy-fuck I love that show). But going back to what was said, how with gaming you become part of the action that is occurring. Well, I sincerely disagree with the belief that this is more damaging than being a spectator to watching a man having his eyeballs removed with a spoon on the end of a pneumatic drill, and not to mention that, with this kind of interaction you only become as involved with the actual violence depending on how good you are or how much you want to be.
But even now I can hear those over-worried concerned mothers weeping and saying 'But our kids will do it anyway' etc whilst their children play with fireworks and matches on the edge of a race-track. Oh cry me a fucking river why don't you? Seriously, I see this unnecessary bitching as being nothing more than crap parents not wanting to face up to their responsibilities as parents in ensuring that their kids don't become serial killers as a result of playing a fictional character gunning down Russian civilians. The games have labels on them, they clearly say that this game is not meant to be bought by anyone under-16 and similar. So if your children are buying such games but are under-age, then you have no-one to blame but yourselves for not being with them during their purchase or for not making yourselves a bigger part of your children's lives. Seriously, stop blaming the games industry, go into your kid's bedroom and drive a sledgehammer into their Xbox 360. And then do the same through your spinal column for being a shit parent, and for good measure. Trust me, you deserve it.
Monday, 5 April 2010
A Thing for Gingers?
Well after having watched the first episode of the brand spanking new series of Dr Who I have to say I was mightily impressed. Matt Smith is able to portray the Doctor very well, he has that child-like energy and excitement that we've come to expect from his predeccesor Mr Tennant. Witty, lovable and eccentric, I have only one word for Mr Smith. HIDE! Because as with most things, pre-pubescent teenage girls will spend much of thier early adult years finding out where you live and stalking you to their little heart's content.
The episode itself was pretty decent, with traditional Dr Who-style action and comedy (Fishfingers and custard ftmfw!) and a brilliant introduction for Amelia Pond (which leads me to believe that the Doctor might have a thing for red heads. Anyone?) but in all seriousness, we've had three amazing seasons with David Tennant playing the leading role, perhaps introducing the female character in the first episode was a little too soon. Give us time to adjust to the new face etc. And speaking of changes, the new TARDIS interior looks brilliant, combining modern style and architecture with a bit of good old-fashioned steampunk.
From what I've seen so far I have high hopes for this new series. Naturally I'm going to wait a while before deciding whether I want to pursue writing an episode (Not for funsies, for monies people) but from what I've seen this looks to be a very promising season (I mean, Spitfires in space, what's not to like?). I'd be eager for any other opinions though, or indeed any other form of feedback.
All the Best, The Beard.
The episode itself was pretty decent, with traditional Dr Who-style action and comedy (Fishfingers and custard ftmfw!) and a brilliant introduction for Amelia Pond (which leads me to believe that the Doctor might have a thing for red heads. Anyone?) but in all seriousness, we've had three amazing seasons with David Tennant playing the leading role, perhaps introducing the female character in the first episode was a little too soon. Give us time to adjust to the new face etc. And speaking of changes, the new TARDIS interior looks brilliant, combining modern style and architecture with a bit of good old-fashioned steampunk.
From what I've seen so far I have high hopes for this new series. Naturally I'm going to wait a while before deciding whether I want to pursue writing an episode (Not for funsies, for monies people) but from what I've seen this looks to be a very promising season (I mean, Spitfires in space, what's not to like?). I'd be eager for any other opinions though, or indeed any other form of feedback.
All the Best, The Beard.
Sunday, 21 March 2010
Those Not So Magnificent Men...
If anyone has noticed the reference to the film 'Those Magnificent Men In Their Flying Machines' without having read this far, then have some win.
But in all seriousness I'm sure I'm not the only one getting tired of the selfish actions from British Airways cabin crews. I mean, we are living in a time of global depression and vast unemployment, and yet they have some of the highest paid jobs around. And what are they doing? Striking. Now I'm all for worker's rights, don't get me wrong, but these guys should count themselves lucky that they actually have a job, whereas many thousands such as myself don't (although I suppose as a writer I'm only unemployed when I'm not writing).
Personally I think BA staff really need to look at themselves and think about how fortunate they are to not have to be stuck between a rock and a hard place, where any money you do get is gone almost before you can check to see the Queen's shadow, and it could be a long while before you get anymore. Whats more, maybe the strike leaders to be launched into the turbines of the Boeings they should be flying, if not for my general amusement then most certainly to try and blast some sense through their bullet-proof skulls. Form a queue now.
All the Best, the Beard
But in all seriousness I'm sure I'm not the only one getting tired of the selfish actions from British Airways cabin crews. I mean, we are living in a time of global depression and vast unemployment, and yet they have some of the highest paid jobs around. And what are they doing? Striking. Now I'm all for worker's rights, don't get me wrong, but these guys should count themselves lucky that they actually have a job, whereas many thousands such as myself don't (although I suppose as a writer I'm only unemployed when I'm not writing).
Personally I think BA staff really need to look at themselves and think about how fortunate they are to not have to be stuck between a rock and a hard place, where any money you do get is gone almost before you can check to see the Queen's shadow, and it could be a long while before you get anymore. Whats more, maybe the strike leaders to be launched into the turbines of the Boeings they should be flying, if not for my general amusement then most certainly to try and blast some sense through their bullet-proof skulls. Form a queue now.
All the Best, the Beard
Monday, 15 March 2010
The Engine Room
So sorry for the lack of updates lads, but I promise I will get round to more reviews in due course. Until then however, here's a piece of steampunk literature I wrote throughout my day. I hope what it lacks in length it will make up for in...something else. Enjoy!
The Engine Room
“Put your backs into it lads!”, was one of many encouraging phrases that carried around the engine room, barely audible over the roar of the fires, the clanging of machinery hard at work and the bellowed hiss of escaping steam. Groups of a dozen men tended each of the air-dreadnought’s five mighty boilers, throwing large shovelfuls of the finest Artorian coal into the hell-like furnaces, whilst an army of engineers scaled the ladders that ran up and down the vast cylinders of the ship’s engines, stopping at each level to adjust the valves and levers that seemed to cover the gigantic machines like some sort of skin-disease, make notes of the gauges or simply to mop up an oil spill.
Everything in the engine room seemed to be covered in a fine layer of coal dust and oil that would always re-appear five minutes after cleaning. Still, it was the captain’s orders to keep everything as clean as possible. Young lads with steel barrows mounted on rails on the engine-room floor hurried from the immense coal stores on the other size of the engine room to the details of men charged with keeping the fires blazing like suns.
Nothing in the room stayed still, all was a flurry of frenzied activity and motion, from the armies of stokers feeding the throbbing boilers to the mass of rods, gears and flywheels that powered the Thunderstriker. Such was the norm when Captain Theart was in command. Thelonius Theart. Menace to all stokers, beater of machines and the finest captain in the Imperial Fleet. Even now, a sharp blast from the whistle used to carry messages from the communication deck signalled that the Captain, in pursuit of a Voegan convoy, wanted to go faster. A collective groan rose from all occupants of the engine room, but the momentary lapse in activity ended almost as soon as it began as the ant-like movement from all men aboard resumed at an even greater speed, each man giving his all for the Captain, straining and sweating and coal was flung into the raging fires, and the engineers directing all available steam into the thrashing engines. Such was the norm when Captain Theart was in command.
All characters, placenames etc are the rightful property of yours truly.
The Engine Room
“Put your backs into it lads!”, was one of many encouraging phrases that carried around the engine room, barely audible over the roar of the fires, the clanging of machinery hard at work and the bellowed hiss of escaping steam. Groups of a dozen men tended each of the air-dreadnought’s five mighty boilers, throwing large shovelfuls of the finest Artorian coal into the hell-like furnaces, whilst an army of engineers scaled the ladders that ran up and down the vast cylinders of the ship’s engines, stopping at each level to adjust the valves and levers that seemed to cover the gigantic machines like some sort of skin-disease, make notes of the gauges or simply to mop up an oil spill.
Everything in the engine room seemed to be covered in a fine layer of coal dust and oil that would always re-appear five minutes after cleaning. Still, it was the captain’s orders to keep everything as clean as possible. Young lads with steel barrows mounted on rails on the engine-room floor hurried from the immense coal stores on the other size of the engine room to the details of men charged with keeping the fires blazing like suns.
Nothing in the room stayed still, all was a flurry of frenzied activity and motion, from the armies of stokers feeding the throbbing boilers to the mass of rods, gears and flywheels that powered the Thunderstriker. Such was the norm when Captain Theart was in command. Thelonius Theart. Menace to all stokers, beater of machines and the finest captain in the Imperial Fleet. Even now, a sharp blast from the whistle used to carry messages from the communication deck signalled that the Captain, in pursuit of a Voegan convoy, wanted to go faster. A collective groan rose from all occupants of the engine room, but the momentary lapse in activity ended almost as soon as it began as the ant-like movement from all men aboard resumed at an even greater speed, each man giving his all for the Captain, straining and sweating and coal was flung into the raging fires, and the engineers directing all available steam into the thrashing engines. Such was the norm when Captain Theart was in command.
All characters, placenames etc are the rightful property of yours truly.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
