([syndicated profile] andrew_rilstone_feed Apr. 23rd, 2026 05:32 pm)

Posted by Unknown

The idea of St Patrick’s day parades and parties was mostly thought up by the Irish ex-pat community in New York, who (as you’d expect) wanted to celebrate their country of origin once a year. In Ireland, historically, it was mostly a day to visit family and go to church. 

Yes, quite often, legendary figures do differ from their historical prototypes. Dick Turpin was a nasty little horse thief who somehow got remembered as an heroic outlaw. Saint George the figure in the Mummers plays and the Fairy Queen is an English knight who rescues ladies from dragons, and fights duels with Turks. He may possibly have been based on a Cappadocian Christian martyr. This is absolutely fine. 

The Church of England is historically kind of a big deal in England. The Church of England is sort of kind of mostly Protestant. Protestants mostly think that the veneration of humans, even very holy humans, borders on the idolatrous and even pagan. Some Anglicans are okay with saying “and so, with Mary, Francis and Augustine we pray…” but Saints Days haven't been that big a deal in this country since the reformation. 

Go round some older English churches and you'll see statues of saints with their heads knocked off by puritans.

My first name is Andrew. I happen to know that Saint Andrew's day is on 30th November because Scotland. But I bet if you are named James or Phillip or for that matter Polycarp or Dysmas you have no idea when your name-day falls. 

Not that St Andrew is a very big deal in Scotland: the big day for tartan and bagpipes and disgusting meat products is Burns Night. 

Wales is different again: they celebrate being Welsh with leeks because the English spent so long telling them they ought not to be. 

While we are here: the English have a King and a national church and also a national health service and a national broadcasting corporation and a famous playwright and the Archers. Which is why the Union Jack has never been such a big deal for us as the Stars and Stripes is for Americans: we have other symbols. English people who put flag poles in their own gardens are adopting an American tradition, on the same level as kids who go trick or treating instead of pennying for the guy. Not that a thing is wrong because it's foreign and new, but you shouldn't pretend its traditional. 

The thing about it only being the Union Jack if it’s flying from a boat is a myth.

Yes, indeed the Union Jack is the British flag, not the English, and God Save the Queen I Mean King is the British national anthem, not the English one and the fact that everyone including me gets confused over that is a big part of the problem.

When I was a kid I was quite churchy and went to a quite churchy school, and no-one talked about St George's Day, ever. I think it was an extra holiday celebrated by Boy Scouts, in the same way that one or two children did a thing called Bah Mitzvah which the rest of us didn't. Individual teachers had different opinions about whether they could wear their Scout uniforms to school on Baden-Powell's birthday. 

I think that in some parts of the country there were genuine traditions of Morris and May-Pole dancing and maybe daft things like Yorkshire Pudding Rolling and Pork Pie Hurling in some areas. They have died out or are kept up by revivalists because in the cold light of day they were in fact a little bit silly. 

It is fun to sing Fields of Athernry and Dublin In the Rare Old Times and drink far too much Guinness even if the closest you have been to Ireland is Staffordshire. I like the way King Street turns into a good natured festival on March 17th. Although if I were Irish, I might find some of the blarney and leprechauns a bit annoying. I mean, why aren't mobs of people sitting in pubs reading Yeats and Joyce? 

But if some landlords want to sell people too much real ale while singing the British Grenadiers....er....Rule Britannia....er....England Swings Like a Pendulum Do....then I see no problem at all. 

To summarise 

-- Literally no-one is telling you you can't celebrate St George's Day, but historically, it hasn't really been that big a thing. 

— It is irrelevant and not at all a gotcha that St George came from what is now called Turkey, probably. (And it is not a witty riposte to say "ha-ha but Turkey didn't exist back then" either.) 

— Although I do think it a shame that Alban, who was a: English and b: real never gets a look in. Or Edmund, come to that. 

— I’d go with Jerusalem if I had to make a choice. Land of Hope and Glory is too jingoistic and associated with a particular party, and Rule Britannia requires too much contextualisation, although it’s actually a good tune. I mean, I joke about Place Called England but no-one outside the folk world has heard of it. 

— But if you try to make “having a beer on April 23rd” an Act of Resistance to Forces of Oppression that only exist in your head, then I will call you a racist twat and decline.

Also: Shakespeare's birthday.


raven: Elizabeth Weir from SGA, sitting with a laptop (atlantis - elizabeth)
([personal profile] raven Apr. 23rd, 2026 05:11 pm)
So mostly these days I am obsessed with The Pitt! I love the show so much, for itself, and because it's such a natural successor to MASH and other shows I have loved. I've said on Bluesky that it's the only show I've ever come across that really understands how teaching and growth and mentoring happen in a professional environment - fandom is full of academia stories, and indeed academics, and school and high school stories, but not so much the grown-up, affirming, important work of teaching someone to do your job because you, they and the job all matter. (What do I teach people to do! Not save lives. But it matters. I had a lovely, lovely email from one of my team before she went off on maternity leave that said wonderful things about my teaching, about what she'd learned from me, how her practice had changed as a result of me, at which point I had to go and lie down and cry for a while. When Robby says with emphasis, "This is a teaching hospital", it makes me think of it.

(Brief outline: Robby, otherwise Dr Michael Robinavitch, is a warm, scathing, compassionate soul who runs an emergency department in Pittsburgh, it's an ensemble cast of interns, resident doctors, patients, nurses and others and Robby is the keystone of it all in a tired, mentally ill kind of a way. Each episode of the show covers an hour, so the entire season covers a single shift. It's very good. Also Robby is played by Noah Wyle - and, as the show's executive producers lost a litigation against the IP-holders for ER, he is emphatically not John Carter. I love this. Robby feels, and is, beautifully imagined: a working-class Jewish man, who wears a magen David necklace, all because Carter was a WASP with a trust fund.)

I also love Trinity Santos, a brilliant lovely Filipina asshole of a lesbian, and Jack Abbot, who is Robby's friend and also mirror image - being to the night shift what Robby is the day - and also fascinating for himself. He's a former MASH combat medic which is what decided me for sure that the show deliberately draws on its predecessor. The Pitt isn't a sitcom, but it has the warmth MASH had; and Abbot, who is a lower-leg amputee, embodies some of its ambivalence. (And! In s2 they have someone deliver Henry Blake's "young men die" speech, with the same blocking as the original. I love it.)

Anyway I love this show. It is so rich and funny and so fucking human, all the damn time. Robby's PTSD is from covid, and his nightmares are of full PPE - and I was like, okay, do I want to watch this. Robby has PTSD from treating covid patients but my dad died from treating covid patients. But I did want to watch it, because it takes what it does seriously. I want to write a fic, about Robby and s2 spoiler ), and I also want it to be a daemon AU, because I am insane. I haven't written anything good in a year and like I said I am insane. Maybe I should just ask people to give me fic prompts.
choco_frosh: (Hell Ass Balls)
([personal profile] choco_frosh Apr. 23rd, 2026 12:23 pm)
My co-owners want to repave the driveway.
This is probably not an inherently bad idea, except that the price tag for ME is...nearly two months' gross pay (or 3½ months worth of mortgage payments.)

Meantime, my supervisor wants me to fill out a form every week to meticulously document everything I did that week, the better to micromanage me, I guess.

I am regretting my life choices, but I don't see a way out of either terrible situation.
([personal profile] cosmolinguist Apr. 23rd, 2026 10:56 am)

After my alarm went off this morning I was lying in bed for a few minutes, listening to the sounds come in through the open windows. I heard a truck on the nearby big road, a train zoom past on the railroad tracks, a plane overhead, sirens doppeling down the road.

Felt like I was living in Busytown for a second there!

A friend told me that Pauline Oliveros wrote some meditations for listening, apparently she called it Deep Listening. He said hearing things through a window like that is a great and grounded way to start the day.

Had the first boxset waiting to listen to for ages, and finally fired up this first story. And this is enormous fun. Georgia Tennant does a grand job returning to her Doctor Who TV role as the Doctor's Daughter, and the story, characters and tone are great space comedy, in the style of Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy. I don't know if the rest of the boxset will be similar, but this is a superb start.

([personal profile] cosmolinguist Apr. 22nd, 2026 09:19 pm)

Welp, the appointment didn't happen!

D and I clicked the link for the video consult and signed in and everything and then nothing happened!

D tried to call them, got an automatic message that said we'd called outside their operating hours or whatever, but then said they were open until 5pm on Wednesdays and it was just past 3pm. Very strange.

So he sent an e-mail but of course we've heard nothing back; I didn't expect we would until tomorrow.

It made for a strange afternoon, having to go back to work. I wasn't up to doing any thinky work but I had admin work to do so it was good to catch up on that.

Then I took Teddy for a walk, he was so excited to see me after a couple days where I couldn't make it or I was not needed. It's chilly out because it's so windy, but it was a sunny day and the sky was wonderfully blue.

I wanted to make dinner but V suggested putting a frozen meal from the freezer in the oven and we did that. Thai green curry, so I made rice to go with it. Even though I wasn't hungry, I ate mine pretty quickly.

I listened to a podcast interview with Dick Bremer, and had a bunch of feelings because it was the first time I'd heard his voice since he called whichever was the last regular-season game I watched in 2023.

D had gotten me a present, intending to be a "well done for getting through the thing" but it arrived this evening even after the thing had not happened. I opened it anyway: it's an amazing bottle of gin called Moonshot because each batch of Moonshot Gin likely has some molecules in it that came in contact with a rock that was once actually on the moon. The botanicals in this gin were freeze-dried by being sent towards space -- not really "space" because the Kármán line is a further 80 km up. There they were "exposed to extremely low pressures" the label copy says, adding one of the sillier phrases I've read off a bottle: "(after 18 or 19km the pressure is already so low that water and fluids in the body boil at body temperature!)"

Luckily the gin also tastes nice. It's a gimmick but it's worked extremely well on me, and it's lovely to feel so looked-after as to get a surprise present in acknowledgement of a big thing.

Even if we're no closer to the big thing than we were before.

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mark: A photo of Mark kneeling on top of the Taal Volcano in the Philippines. It was a long hike. (Default)
([staff profile] mark posting in [site community profile] dw_maintenance Apr. 22nd, 2026 09:19 am)

Happy Wednesday!

I'm taking search offline sometime today to upgrade the server to a new instance type. It should be down for a day or so -- sorry for the inconvenience. If you're curious, the existing search machine is over 10 years old and was starting to accumulate a decade of cruft...!

Also, apparently these older machines cost more than twice what the newer ones cost, on top of being slower. Trying to save a bit of maintenance and cost, and hopefully a Wednesday is okay!

Edited: The other cool thing is that this also means that the search index will be effectively realtime afterwards... no more waiting a few minutes for the indexer to catch new content.

purplecat: Hand Drawn picture of a Toy Cat (Default)
([personal profile] purplecat Apr. 22nd, 2026 04:36 pm)
Reading: The Crawling Terror by Mike Tucker. Twelth Doctor and Clara novel. I've only just started it but its already obvious that it's Giant Bugs in Rural England.

Listening: Just finished an episode of the Machine Ethics Podcast with which I have a somewhat frustrated relationship. It's proved very useful for keeping tabs on the AI Ethics landscape, but there are definitely times I want to shake the interviewer or interviewees, and a couple of times I've just had to nope out entirely because SO MUCH NONSENSE. This was a slightly odd episode, the interviewee had clearly reached out, requesting an interview in order to talk about/promote her biocomputing company. Clearly outside of the interviewer's comfort zone, and hard to know to what extent this was crossing the line from science communication into advertising.

Watching: Three weeks late we realise Have I Got News for You has started up again. It does what it does and we're the target demographic. I laughed a lot at Armando Iannuci's exasperation at people claiming that Winston Churchill was being replaced by a badger.
kaffy_r: The TARDIS says hello (Default)
([personal profile] kaffy_r Apr. 21st, 2026 07:03 pm)
Music Meme, Day 28 

A song that you used to hate but love today

I think the very first song that blasted into my mind when I read this came from Led Zeppelin. When I was a teenager, and for years thereafter, I disliked the band. In large part that was because I didn't like Robert Plant's voice. I thought it was whiny. 

In the decades since. I learned to really enjoy Plant's voice. His solo work stuck with me first and I thought, "Well, I may not like how he sang in Led Zep, but I do like his voice now." 

And then something odd happened; I started looking back at Led Zeppelin's earliest stuff and listening to it, and I realized that Plant wasn't whining. He was wailing. And that wail worked beautifully for the work the band was presenting at the time. 

And once I got over disliking Plant's voice during his Led Zeppelin days, I was free to appreciate the other members of the band. Jimmy Page was obviously in a class by himself when it came to the guitar; John Bonham may have played ever so slightly behind the beat, making his drums sound like brontosaurus lumberings, but it worked. And John Paul Jones knew how to work with Bonham. 

Today I can honestly say that the first song I ever disliked performed by Led Zeppelin is now a song I think truly rocks. As in, when I hear it, my head starts to bang. Not healthy, perhaps, but understandable, I think at least some of you might agree. 

Here it is. 





I hasten to add that Chicago bluesman Willie Dixon successfully sued the band over its use of his song, "You Need Love" in their hit. The suit was settled out of court and Dixon's name was subsequently listed as a co-writer of the Led Zeppelin song. Here's his original:



 And finally, here's a link to my previous meme posts. Just follow the bouncing links. 
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([personal profile] cosmolinguist Apr. 21st, 2026 08:54 pm)

Yesterday ended up so unexpectedly nice, I wanted to record it.

D messaged me mid-afternoon to say that circuits was happening again that evening. I used to love transgym circuits, I did that as well as lift club almost every week and I've never been happier. But then our usual awesome trainer stopped doing circuits, which is fair enough but I was/am so used to their style and so comfy with it, and then the replacement started doing more of a boxing style fitness class, which was not to my taste (or accessibility needs: my lack of depth perception was posing too much of a problem) and then I kept being busy on those nights or whatever and I just stopped going some time last fall I think.

But I've really missed circuits; I love circuits. It feels like such a good workout for me: I can do even exercises I hate for a minute or two at a time, I never get bored, and I feel at the end like I've really Done Something. I used to have to bring bandanas to tie around my head to keep from getting too much sweat in my eyes, and I forgot to do that last night and really missed it! Because it's hard work.

And most of the people there weren't our usual old circuits people but people I knew from lift club who hadn't been to circuits before (or, did it like once a very long time ago or whatever). Including one of my favorites, who I said I'd meet outside and go in with together. I was really excited for him because I thought he'd love circuits and he did.

And, when I suddenly found myself with plans to be out for the evening I thought I'd start dinner prep right after work -- i did this last Friday when I went to yoga. But as I was still peeling sweet potatoes, D came downstairs, having finished work earlier than usual, and offering to help. So we just made all of my very easy plan for dinner (bangers and mash) and I had plenty of time to eat before going to the gym. It was lovely to spend the time together, it made an easy thing easier but also just so much more fun: being silly together in the nice sunny kitchen (I'm still not used to it being that bright at dinner time! it wasn't totally dark when I was getting showered after the gym, at about 9pm! bliss).

And I'm very glad I was able to eat beforehand: even with V warning me as I left the house "take it easy! you're out of practice!", even though I did take it easy, I was so sore by the time I got home. I knew not to sit down before I got upstairs and in the shower because I'd never stand up again. But I was so happy, too -- and it wasn't just the endorphins making me think that.

([personal profile] cosmolinguist Apr. 21st, 2026 08:38 pm)

Tomorrow, I'm having an initial video consultation with a clinic that doesn't rule people out because of BMI.

I really didn't want to have to travel for surgery (it makes what's already an indescribably big deal so much bigger), but it's looking like this is my only option.

Title: gingersweet
Fandom: Monkey Island
Pairing/Characters: Guybrush/Elaine
Rating: General
Words: 442
Summary: Guybrush plunders a different sort of golden, sparkling treasure.
Warnings/Contains/Additional Tags: No Archive Warnings Apply; Fluff, Romance, This fic is rated H for Herman Toothrot-ting Fluff
Notes: Be warned that this is incredibly cheesy and pretty much sickly sweet fluff. I am not responsible for your dentist bills.

gingersweet on AO3
([syndicated profile] andrew_rilstone_feed Apr. 21st, 2026 03:20 pm)

Posted by Unknown

Everyone knows what Doctor Who is like: monsters in rubber suits, cardboard sets, impenetrable techno babble, over-acting thespians. When Lenny Henry and Victoria Wood parodied the show; and when Rowan Atkinson fronted an affectionate tribute, that’s was what they made fun of. Even David Tennant’s appearance on Extras seemed to default to that universe.

But one in three of the adult population of the UK had seen City of Death. And whatever you say about City of Death, it is nothing like that. Why did Doctor Who not fixate itself in the public consciousness as a witty, self-knowing concept-heavy, but by no means ridiculous piece of character driven TV clearly intended to appeal to adults as well as children.

There is a moment in the 1970s when Marvel Comics were being written by a cohort of excellent writers who had grown up reading Stan Lee but were now quite clearly done with superheroes. They told the stories they wanted to tell: drugs and Viet Nam and social issues and Dylanesque psychedelia or just plain melodramatic soap opera: they put silly men with spandex suits and capes and masks into them because that was what they were paid to do. And superhero fans read them and only saw the superheroes and said that these were the best superhero comics they had ever read.

I do not say that Doctor Who ever quite reached that point. But I don’t think that Fisher or Adams or Williams had quite the attachment to spaceships and aliens and are-the-going-to-be-any old monsters that the fans had. Neither did Tom Baker.

So City of Death feels like a gradual unmasking, even a strip-tease; a Doctor Who story modestly covered with something which is not a Doctor Who story; something which is not a Doctor Who story that keeps turning into one for contractual reasons.

And the fans look and they see a Doctor Who story. According to Doctor Who Monthly, City of Death is the third best story of the original run, after Genesis of the Daleks and (inexplicably) Caves of Androzani. But the sixteen million…perhaps, in the end they felt cheated. They had been led up a garden path at the end of which the witty art dealing toff turns out to be an other one of the those rubbery aliens, and the art forgery story is a ruse to get us onto a cardboard cutout version of the primeval earth.

Aha, they said, this is what Doctor Who was always like. Next week, Lalla Ward will be over-acting at Fagin in furs and Tom Baker will be cracking jokes at a tentacle that can’t help looking like an enormous green willy. Of course Mind Your Language looked like the better bet.

“This isn’t Doctor Who….This isn’t Doctor Who… This isn’t Doctor Who….Okay, fooled you, this is Doctor Who.”

([syndicated profile] andrew_rilstone_feed Apr. 20th, 2026 04:05 pm)

Posted by Unknown

So: Scaroth is going to travel back in time and prevent the explosion that shattered him into twelve fragments and marooned him on earth. If he succeeds, all human history will be erased and life on earth will simply never have existed.

The Doctor, Romana and Duggan run across Paris, looking singularly unworried. Romana smiles, the Doctor holds her hand. Failing to get a taxi, the Doctor cries out “Does no one care about history?”

The TARDIS is parked in an art gallery. The TARDIS is parked in an art gallery purely to facilitate this scene. I had always assumed the gallery in question was the Louvre, but in fact, we see the exterior of the Denise René  -- which is all about modern, abstract art.

Our heroes run to the Ship. The bystanders continue to shrug. And at that moment; when the stakes have never been higher...

We pause for a celebrity cameo. 


In 1977 there had been a rather concocted controversy about Tate Gallery’s spending a great deal of public money on a minimalist installation, consisting of a pile of bricks and nothing else. It was sufficiently big news that John Craven covered it. The young lad in Children of the Stones threatens to sell the wreckage of his bike to the Tate Gallery. Even today the word "pileofbricks" is sometimes invoked by the kinds of people who think that Western Civilisation has been in permanent decline since the death of  Michelangelo.

As our heroes jump into the TARDIS, we hear a snippet of conversation between two connoisseurs who have mistaken it for a piece of modern art. One of them takes an essentially formalist line:

“Divorced from its function and seen purely as a piece of art, its structure of line and colour is curiously counterpointed by the redundant vestiges of its function."

But the other is more interested in it conceptually:

“And since it has no call to be here, the art lies in the fact that it is here.”

These would both have been perfectly sensible comments to have made about, say Equivalent VIII (the pile of bricks) or Fountain (the urinal). Either you are looking at the shape of the object: paying attention to what it looks like in a new way because of the new context. Or else you are amused by the paradox of something which is not art being exhibited as if it were.

But these perfectly sensible comments are being made by JOHN CLEESE, one of the most recognisable actors on British TV. Many people say that they find him funny even when he isn't doing anything particularly amusing. I used to think that the scene was hurriedly added to the script when it turned out that Cleese was filming Fawlty Towers in a nearby studio and was game for a laugh: but in fact the cameo had always been part of the script, with a number of celebrities in the frame. Because BASIL FAWLTY is speaking the words, we are apt to regard them as intrinsically ludicrous. But I wonder how we would have read the scene if it had been Alan Bennett or Jonathan Miller in the role?

When the Doctor went to the Louvre, he said that the Mona Lisa was one of the greatest treasures in the universe; when he finds out that people are plotting to steal it, he says innocently that it is a very pretty painting. Duggan tells him that there are at least seven millionaires who would buy a stolen Mona Lisa even though they could never show it to anyone -- as a "very expensive gloat". 

Scaroth has forced or persuaded Leonardo to make multiple copies of the picture. Presumably, all seven paintings are equally "pretty" -- as, indeed, would be any high quality reproduction. But the men on Duggan's list are only incidentally interested in its prettiness: what they attach a monetary value to is its rareness and authenticity -- not to look at, but to have. The existence of multiple copies put the whole notion of “authenticity” into question. Would the art collector view each painting as equally valuable because Leonardo painted all of them? Or are they all equally worthless since none of them are unique? [1]  In the event, all the paintings but one are destroyed: but the surviving portrait, which is returned to the Louvre, is one of the ones on which the Doctor wrote the words “this is a fake” at the time of Leonardo. So it is simultaneously an obvious fake and quite definitely authentic. The Doctor sticks to his original position: it makes no difference because the whole point of art is to look at it.

Romana, without realising it, blows the whole argument out of the water. On Gallifrey, art is produced by computers. (In Invasion of Time and Deadly Assassin, the Time Lords have quite a lot of very ornate upholstery, but little representative art.) The Doctor would presumably say that art counts as art if it is pretty, but not otherwise: we can reserve judgement on whether a computer could ever in fact create something as pretty as the Mona Lisa. This would also be Elenor Bron's view: Time Lord art would have value if it had the formal properties of art. To Scarlioni's customers, such art, however pretty, would be infinitely reproducible and therefore completely valueless. But on John Cleese's view, it would become art once we put in an art gallery and treated it as art. 

The last thing we see is Duggan buying a postcard reproduction of the Mona Lisa: and we are left asking — what is the status of this cheap, mass produced, piece of cardboard? 

Doctor Who was ostensibly a children's show. Did Adams or Williams envisages children discussing the nature of art in the playground on Monday morning? Or were they intended to say, in effect "Here are a couple of silly grown ups talking complete gibberish -- which is, after all, what all modern art and all art criticism really is?" Is it intrinsically funny that anyone should talk in an informed way about modern art, or about any art at all? Or perhaps the thought was that we would be so busy saying "Hey -- isn't that Basil Fawlty"  that we wouldn't notice what was actually being said. 

Did Williams or Fisher or Adams realise that City of Death offered a pre-emptive debate about the validity of AI artwork? Perhaps not: but the interruption of an end-of-the-world space opera by an irrelevant pair of art aficionados is a clever piece of construction. The scene has no call to be there: the art lies in the fact that it is there.


kaffy_r: Still from Arakawa Under the Bridge (Arakawa afternoon)
([personal profile] kaffy_r Apr. 19th, 2026 09:25 pm)
Music Meme, Day 27

A song that describes how you feel right now

Another tricky one, given that I can never be sure what I feel at any given moment. But I'll give it a try. Here's the song that had me dancing all day, and I think that's as good a way to describe how I have felt most of today. 

There are actually two versions of this; one of them being filmed in L.A. (or at least I think that's where it was filmed) and the other one being very Korean. I think I like both of them for different reasons, so here you go. 






And here is a link to yesterday's post which, in turn, can connect to some of my earlier posts. 


 
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([personal profile] cosmolinguist Apr. 19th, 2026 09:59 pm)

Since the day that I had no brain juice, I feel like I've been improving slowly, but from a low bar.

I had to miss a social thing that D's girlfriend organized on Thursday night, and I didn't go to D&D (also at her house) this afternoon because I've had a stabby bad-nystagmus-day headache on and off all afternoon and didn't think anything so visuals-intensive would be good for me. Between this and no lift club yesterday, I've been feeling in need of more socializing. And I feel like I didn't make much of my weekend, last night aside.

Last night was amazing though. After a little bit of annoyance at the insufficiency of the transport information given between the Britain First rally (ugh) that afternoon and preparations for the marathon today, both of which were between my house and the Bridgewater Hall, I determined the train would be best and -- with a little bit of running at the last minute -- it went smoothly. Like I said, it was [personal profile] angelofthenorth's first visit to the Bridgewater Hall, and I was glad that she liked it as much as I hoped she would -- she already wants to go back in the next few days.

We had surprisingly great seats, considering that when I called up to get tickets and was asked where I want to sit, I said I didn;'t care and I just didn't want to pay a lot. I don't think I'd heard Duke Ellington's Harlem before, but just like all the Duke Ellington I had heard it was a delight -- highlights were watching the conductor Joshua Weilerstein bouncing and flailing around, almost as if he was dancing to the music himself. Miriam exclaimed to me afterwards about the harp matching the double-basses.

The second piece, Nikolai Kapustin's Piano Concerto No. 4 was introduced to us as "wacky jazz but with rock, soul and maybe even funk hiding behind the very bland name. From where we were sitting, I could admire the pano soloist Frank Dupree in his forest-green suit who always had his hans flying around the piano keyboard, but next to his grand piano was a drummer at a trap set who was arguably a second soloist for the piece. It was really extraordinary, a ton of fun. When they finished, the pianist said "Would you like to hear some more?" (much to the surprise of the conductor, M later told me! she did the best audio description) and the well-mannered audience cheered enthusiastically enough that he seemed genuinely surprised in his reply, "Wow!"

For this obviously the orchestra wasn't involved, just him and his drummer pal whose name I didn't catch. The other musicians on stage watched along with the rest of the audience as these two played Kapustin's Concert etude No. 1. It had a drum solo! During which Dupree "snuck" away from his piano to come up behind the drum kit, theatrically grab a couple of drum sticks, and play right along with the drummer in a call-and-response way that deserved the chuckles it got (including what sounded like some use of the music stands etc.), with him getting back to his piano stool and send his fingers flying across the keys.

And then after the interval the main event, Antonín Dvořák's Symphony No. 9 in E minor, ‘From the New World’ which the intro said some of those players might have played 100 times, or 50 times. He described it as helping them pay their mortgages. The audience was asked how many had seen it performed before, how many had listened to it... M was expecting us to be asked how many of us had played it, to which of course I'd have been so excited to raise my hand. I hadn't listened to it in about 20 years, but I knew almost all of the symphony, and when we got to my beloved last movement, I couldn't sit still in my seat. I played bassoon for that in a band that didn't have strings, so I heard familiar parts not just in the bassoon but cello and double bass. Neurons that haven't gotten to light up for 25 years got to glow.

We joined the crowds decanting ourselves into the shiny darkness and on to Oxford Road station, with about ten minutes before our train home. I was still so excited I couldn't sit down while we waited.

So I wish I'd made more of my weekend to fend off burnout and some challenging things ahead of me this week, but last night was better than I had any expectation it would be.

([syndicated profile] andrew_rilstone_feed Apr. 19th, 2026 06:11 pm)

Posted by Unknown

It’s set in Paris. It has to be set in Paris because it’s about the theft of the Mona Lisa: the theft of the Fighting Temeraire wouldn’t have had the same iconic punch.

Doctor Who wasn’t being shown in France at the time, so all those by-standers who shrug nonchalantly as the English guy in the long scarf runs past them are genuinely bemused Parisians. It would be an interesting fan project to track some of them down and find out if any of them knew what the hell was going on. Apparently, it was cheaper to film in Paris than to dress London streets to look Parisian.

Lalla Ward spent Destiny of the Daleks dressed in a feminised parody of Tom Baker’s outfit, but here she is wearing an English school uniform. For some reason. She says that it didn’t occur to her that some English gentlemen quite like looking at grown up ladies in school uniforms. 

Does Romana know what a school uniform is? Do they have uniforms or indeed schools on Gallifrey? Why does she think it particularly appropriate to Paris? Perhaps, like Ford Prefect, she thought it would be nicely inconspicuous?

With the exception of the cafe, all the interiors are filmed in London studios: so the main thing which the four days of filming produced was endless shots of the Doctor and Romana running through the streets. We see them on a metro with the Eiffel Tower visible through the window; sitting in a pavement cafe with Notre Dame behind them; and walking to and from the Louvre. You may find it all rather charming, or you may dismiss it as shameless padding. There is a full four minutes of Duggan tailing the Doctor and Romana in Episode Two. The filming is very pretty indeed.

Studio-bound stories can suffer from a lack of geography: we have no real sense of where the McVillains ship is in relation to Davros’s chamber, and the Doctor can move between them without seeming to pass through intermediate space. But in City of Death, no-one can say “back to the Louvre!” or “off to the Chateau!” without triggering an extended Paris street montage. One is tempted to wonder if this is intentional: a running gag.

In several of these scenes Romana and the Doctor seem to be holding hands -- not something the Doctor and the first Romana would have been likely to do. (It is also fairly hard to imagine Mary Tamm in a school uniform.) Tom Baker and Lalla Ward officially became an Item during the filming of this story. They got married a year later, although it sadly only lasted a couple of years. In the Whose Doctor Who? documentary, Tom remarked that one of the challenges about playing the Doctor (from a thespian point of view) is that the character doesn’t experience romantic emotions. In the present story, he says that the Countess is a good looking woman, "probably". But knowing what we know, it is very hard to avoid head canon-ing it into a honeymoon.

Or, at least, a dirty weekend.

I was today years old when I realised that Cité de la Mort and Cité de l'Amour is a play on words.



Shortly after City of Death, one of the Doctor Who fanzines published an interview with David Agnew. It was a not-very subtle in-joke: “Agnew” was a composite name attached to scripts that no-one person was prepared to take responsibility for. In this case it seems that David Fisher had submitted a kind-of follow up to Androids of Tara: a literary pastiche involving scams and detective work in 1920s Paris and Monte Carlo. But the script was deemed unworkable: for one thing, using time travel to cheat at roulette wasn't thought to be a quite suitable subject for what was ostensibly a children's TV show. So Graham Williams and Douglas Adams were locked in a room for a weekend and rewrote the story from scratch. (This kind of thing seemed to have happened to Douglas Adams rather frequently.) They excised the gambling and the historical setting, but held onto the idea of an alien having been fragmented through time.

We often talk about the special effects in Old Who having been “cobbled together”: but the same was often true of the scripts. There are a few places where you can see the joins. An artist in a cafe sketches Romana, with a broken clock where her face ought to be: he is never mentioned again. When the Count's scientist demonstrates his time machine, a chicken de-evolves into a Jaggarroth,  suggesting that life on earth evolved from Scaroth rather than merely haveing been kickstarted by his exploding spaceship. But we should not be too surprised when Old Who stories feel like concatenations of different scripts. We should rather be amazed that it hangs together as well as it does.

You can’t really expect Douglas Adams to be at his best, dosed up on coffee and whisky and writing to a hard deadline in the middle of the night: but there are recognisable flashes of his trademark wit. The Countess says that the more the Doctor pretends to be a fool, the more she will realise that he isn't; which recalls Trillians insight about Zaphod pretending to be stupid in order to look clever. The Doctor’s discussion with Duggan recalls Ford’s chat with the Vogon about shouting. 

--Are you just in it for the thumping

-- I'm in it mainly to protect the interests of the art dealers who employ me

-- I know, but mainly for the thumping.

And occasionally, you get pure quotable gobbets of the Book: 

— Where are we going?

— Are you speaking philosophically or geographically.

— Philosophically

— Then we’re going to lunch.

But rather too often, the dialogue is in the too-clever-by-half category 

--You should go into partnership with a glazier. You'd have a truly symbiotic working relationship.
--What?

--I'm just pointing out that you break a lot of glass.

It sounds a bit too much like a geeky schoolboy who thinks it's real clever to ask for a glass of H20 or put sodium chloride on his fish and chips. Who is, admittedly, the main target audience of the programme. 

A Gamble With Time would have been a fantastic title.


vivdunstan: A vibrantly coloured drawn image of David Tennant's Doctor, with sonic screwdriver in his right hand (tenth doctor)
([personal profile] vivdunstan Apr. 19th, 2026 04:18 pm)
This last week marked 20 years since the start of David Tennant's first full series of Doctor Who. We weren't planning to rewatch anything, but stumbled at midnight that night into a rewatch of "New Earth". I wouldn't be surprised if we rewatch more episodes over the coming weeks ...

I jotted down some quick thoughts while watching.
  • DT so young!
  • Seeing Mickey is going to be *challenging*, but hey ho
  • Nice to combine first new Tenth series story with a sequel to End of the World
  • So many lift shafts and stair scenes in this early era of New Who!
  • Adjoa Andoh's voice even more recognisable for me now after watching some of Bridgerton
  • Certainly pre Covid, with the Doctor opening up multiple patient cells, full of people infected with many diseases, and saying it’s ok as long as you don’t touch them
  • Marvellous cat acting from Doña Croll particularly
  • Very dark storytelling, but also incredibly concise for the runtime - RTD 2 could take lessons
  • Overall a fun intro to a new series. And the middle part of an elongated trilogy story of sorts, which I hadn't appreciated back then.
kaffy_r: Animation of a Ghibli film scene, water rolling into shore. (Anoesis)
([personal profile] kaffy_r Apr. 18th, 2026 08:53 pm)
Music Meme, Day 26

A song that helps you fall asleep at night:

I've been away from my journal, and the music meme for a while, and part of that was because I was initially stymied by this. I don't use music to help me go to sleep, although there are times I think about how nice it would be to fall asleep to the sounds of one of my favorite ambient stations. I can't do that, not without keeping Bob awake, or wearing my earbuds until they're completely drained. 

But back when Andy was quite young, Bob had a job as a doorman down in one of the ritzier condominium buildings in Chicago's Near North neighborhood; not quite the Gold Coast, but as close as makes no difference. He had a night shift, which meant that I went to sleep alone, which was lonely. After I got Andy to bed, and once I was tired, I would put the Discman that Bob got for me, and I'd put the second CD of Kitaro's* two CD album "Silk Road" on. I'd put the headphones on, and I would listen to the album until my eyes were just about ready to close. I would reluctantly take off the headphones, and fall asleep. 


I particularly liked two of the pieces: "Eternal Spring" and "Silver Moon." I'm sharing both of them with you now. 



Before I forget, here's a link that will help you catch up with my earlier meme posts, should you be interested.



*I discovered Kitaro through an NPR radio show that our local public radio station played either really late at night, or far too early in the morning. At the time, Bob and I were both young and arrogant about the music we liked, and we made fun of a lot of the ambient pieces this show played, but when the host played some pieces from the Silk Road album, I really liked it, and Bob got me the CDs for Christmas or my birthday. He also later got me some more of Kitaro's work. I haven't listened to Kitaro in a while, but in hunting these pieces down I think I may have rekindled my interest in him. 
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vivdunstan: Muppet eating a computer (computer)
([personal profile] vivdunstan Apr. 18th, 2026 08:26 pm)
Very belatedly watching the 1990 documentary “Hyperland” about hypertext, starring Douglas Adams (who wrote it) and Tom Baker. It originally aired on the BBC just as Martin and I were starting as undergraduate students at St Andrews.

And for the computer science folks, my St Andrews CS PhD which I had to drop out of in 1996 due to my progressive neurological disease (still not then diagnosed properly) was about creating a system to support hypercode, a hypertext like programming system built on underlying persistence technology.

.

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