Snuff scene

I watched a child learn how to blow out a candle yesterday. It was fascinating.

He (my little nephew) was entranced by the flames on his father's birthday cake. He was watching them intently when suddenly they were gone! Blown out by his father.

The older kids at the table wanted to blow them out too and they were duly re-lit, only to be blown away again.

This started the wee nephew into paroxysms of wet expulsions of air. He wanted in on the act. Once more the candles were set alight.

At first his efforts were in vain. His huffing and puffing could not blow anything down or out. His mother, on whose lap he was sitting, helped him out with some well timed and aimed bullets of air.

He still wanted more. So once again the candles burst back into flame. This time he started to get some force into his blows. The candles wavered, fluttered, tried to fight back, but finally gave up the ghost. Victory! He had won the day. He still kept blowing none-the-less ... hitting them when they were down.

It seems the urge to control fire is a strong and primal one.

Rack off, Eugene

We went to see the Tchasikovsky opera Eugene Onegin last night. It was great, with a very talented cast, minimalist yet beautiful staging, and a good orchestra backing it all.

The plot of the opera was typically tragic, and had some contemporary parallels that came to mind, so here is my potted summary of the opera, updated and set in the Hutt Valley rather than 19C Russia.

Act ONE
Tanya spends all her time reading woman's magazines and trashy romances. She dreams of romance in a Mills & Boon kind of way. Her mother tells her to stop being so stupid. Romance is for the rich. She tells Tanya she should be more like her sister Olga, who has found a good, solid bloke.

Olga's current boyfriend, Lensky (a prop in their school's 1st XV rugby team), has his own car and enough cash to keep Olga happy. Lensky arrives with his mate, Eugene Onegin. Onegin, so-called for his habit of always saying, 'I'll just have one gin" before getting completely hammered, is a star winger on the rugby team.

Lensky and Onegin eye up the sisters, with Eugene saying he likes 'em a bit wet and romantic as they are easier to manipulate. So Lensky makes out with Olga in the back seat of his Escort while Onegin and Tanya wander about the school's rugby field talking about everything and nothing, and why it's important to lace up your boots tight before a match. The date ends with Eugene leaning in for a kiss and coping a quick feel.

The next evening Tanya is constantly checking her cellphone for any message from Eugene, but nothing comes. "But he said he'd call," she laments. She splits a tub of Tip Top and a bottle of Baileys with her aunt, who tells her not to worry so much. At 2am Tanya sends Eugene a long text in which she declares her undying love, and asks him to meet her after school behind the bike sheds.

To her surprise, Eugene turns up only an hour, and half a pack of menthols, after school finishes. She throws herself upon him, but he pushes her away and gives her the old, "It's not you, it's me" speech. He even throws in the whole "you're like a sister to me" line. Tanya is not impressed and cries so hard she ruins the other half pack of cigarettes.

Act TWO
At Tanya's sixteenth birthday party, Onegin has one gin too many and takes his boredom out on his best friend Lensky ... by flirting with Olga. Olga plays up to Eugene, as she is feeling a little taken for granted by Lensky. Besides, Lensky has a gimpy knee and has been on the reserves bench for the last few games, whereas Eugene is the top try scorer.

A bad DJ pumps out some loud dance beats. Olga and Eugene trip the light fantastic on the dance floor, turning heads.

Lensky gets jealous, and challenges Onegin to a fight.

The next day the fight gets out of control when Lensky pulls a knife. Eugene kicks him in the bad knee, however, and in the ensuing melee Lensky ends up dead. Eugene hightails it out of town.

Act THREE
Years later Onegin is in back in Wellington attending a Sports Award event he scammed a ticket to. We learn he has spent the last few years in Australia, lying low. However, there were no charges ever made against him. As he mills around the crowd of sports celebs he is surprised to see Tanya there. She's all glammed up, and is being fawned on by the paparazzi. He sees another familiar face, Gremin, who is the guy that played centre on the 1st XV, and was responsible for setting up all those tries Eugene scored back in the day.

Onegin asks Gremin who the babe is, and is told that's Tanya, Gremin's wife. Gremin it seems, was the real star in the rugby team, and has now been selected for the ABs after a stellar season for the Hurricanes.

Eugene manages to get Tanya to meet him in a back room, and he tells her that he's now in love with her. She admits to still finding him attractive, but she's with Gremin now. Eugene implores her to be his, and gets a little grabby. Tanya knees him in the bollocks, tells him to "rack off", and leaves him crying on the floor.

The End

(This is the bit where you applaud.)

Ghost writers in the sky

I belong to a writer's group that meets once a month, and yesterday we had our full compliment of four and a fascinating discussion on ghost writing.

One of our number has been employed to ghost write a memoir, and has encountered some sticky issues when it comes to his professional integrity. I won't go into personal details, but the basics of it are as follows...

The ghost writer is attempting to write with the voice of his subject.
The subject dictated onto tape many stories and anecdotes about his life.

-- In the tapes the subject is sometimes passionate, even salacious or controversial, about certain events and people.

-- The subject is reading and editing the drafts produced by the ghost writer.

-- There were many draft versions.

-- When editing the ghost writing the subject has removed or softened the passionate, salacious and controversial parts of most, if not all, of the anecdotes.

-- This has weakened the 'punch' of the stories considerably.

-- Not surprisingly, this has annoyed the ghost writer a little. He feels the subject is ruining the story of his life.

-- On the other hand, the subject is entitled to say, or not say, what he wants about his own life.

-- The ghost writer feels an obligation to honour the wishes of the subject.

Now the tricky bit ...

-- The person commissioning and paying for the memoir is not the subject. Rather it is the subject's son.

-- I'm guessing these are tales the subjects' family have heard, in whole or part, many times. They would have been told candidly and passionately, just like the tapes.

-- The son/employer feels the draft revision he has received is a little dull in terms of language. (He's right.)

-- The wider family also want input into the memoir.

-- The family, however, do not know of the process of editing multiple drafts that has led to the current status of the text.

-- Basically, there is a conflict between the person paying for the book and the person the book is about, but they are not having that conflict between each other, but rather through their interactions with the ghost writer. There are also other voices in the cacophony, and in my own small way I got to be a little squeak as well.

There are a host of issues that arise from the dilemma the ghost writer finds himself in, and these led to a lively discussion.

Who does the ghost writer have the greater responsibility to please? The person paying for the work, or the person whose voice he is writing as?

Does the writer have to be true to the 'voice' of the subject, or to the editing wishes of the subject?

How much of the 'writer' inside the ghost writer can you ignore when it comes to issues of style and form? If the client or subject wants what the writer considers is a poorly written final product, does that matter?

I came away from the meeting with my head spinning. It made my current writing dilemmas seem small by comparison.

Why I Hate Saturn

I just saw a short 'interview' on TV that made my brain implode. It was about 'sports astrology'. Okay, so it was on ESPN ... I can't expect too much from a sports network. After all, sports shows are all about useless and ill-founded predictions, so adding astrology to sports almost seems natural.

Several things struck me the topic, and I mean 'struck' as in hit me about the head leaving me reeling.

The interviewed woman plays Fantasy Football ... but I don't remember reading about her winning any Fantasy Leagues. Guess the planets don't work in fantasy-land, just in the real world?

She practiced "technical sports astrology", as opposed to, I'm guessing, regular sports astrology. Her analysis was based on birth times, but when those were not available the date would do.

A web search revealed technical astrology is also known as "Real" time astrology, and is used by a large number of sports astrologists ... most of whom have hit rates way below the ESPN 'experts', which is saying something.

Reading about on the web I encountered a curious mix of astrology, faith and sports betting, including one astrologer's blog which asked readers to pray for a team he had picked. I guess the power of prayer can influence the power of the planets?

The mix of sports betting and astrology probably shouldn't have astounded me so much. Betting on sports is generally a fool's game (unless you're betting against the Oakland Raiders). But to put your trust in an astrologer for your bets seems to be another level of idiocy.

The use of sports astrologers by sports teams scares me, but does explain all the draft picks made by the Oakland Raiders in the last decade.

The seeming endorsement of sports astrology by ESPN and some professional franchises is a little worrying. It implies there are people out there in sports that really think the position of Jupiter in the zodiac can have a bearing on a game. "Don't blame me coach, I was fated to miss that last second field goal ... it was in the stars!"

BTW: The picture is Andrea Mallis, one of the most well-known sports astrologers, pictured with the NY Mets mascot, Mr Met. She has just told him that they will lose the pennant race in 2008 after blowing a huge lead ... and that his stitches will be pecked out by a flock of seagulls while onlookers cheer.

The title of this blog is a tribute to Kyle Baker's wonderful graphic novel, Why I Hate Saturn, which is well worth a read if you can find a copy.

Press Conference Hat Trick

The latest two weeks of school holidays are over, so I have a fraction more time to write now. Here's a random rant, while I try to organize my blog notes fro tomorrow.

Best political quotes of the week went to Silvio Berlusconi, who claimed in the one press conference that;

I am, and not only in my own opinion, the best prime minister who could be found today. I believe there is no one in history to whom I should feel inferior. Quite the opposite.

He then went on to say that;

In absolute terms, I am the most legally persecuted man of all times, in the whole history of mankind, worldwide.

However, it wasn't the paranoia combined with delusions of grandeur that really make the conference. It was when he explained how much his legal battles had cost him that the best gaff was made. Berlusconi claims he had spent;

... more than €200m in consultants and judges.

He then corrected himself to "consultants and lawyers", but the damage had been done. Way to go Silvio!

The Revenge of the Brine Shrimp

The scariest advert on during cartoon time is one for Sea Monkeys. I remember the old comic book adverts for them in the seventies ... magical palaces underwater, families of sea monkeys playing together, a Utopian society of underwater minions to train to take over the world.

But they were just brine shrimp.

Now they're back. I guess every generation has the right to be disappointed.

Boy Toys -- A Tribute WTF of the month

The Cliterature Blog often has WTF posts, so I thought I'd do one of my own, but it's more a grumpy old man flailing his fists at the world pointlessly.

The cable cartoon channels have become more and more advert heavy of late, and as we let our daughter watch Dora the Explorer in the mornings we are getting bombarded with adverts for kid's toys.

There is a strong gender divide evident in the ads. The 'girl toys' are all about caring, sharing, and "being you". Babies to feed, burp and change. Sick animals to care for. Clothes to colour, wear and share. Oh, and they are all pink. So much pink.

But the toys for boys. Well, obviously they are more about action, mayhem, cars, spaceships and monsters.

There's nothing unexpected about that. Disappointing maybe, but not unexpected.

The part that has me waving my grumpy fists in the air is that a number of these ads contain bad behaviour by the boys in the ads. The two links are examples. They imply that part of the 'fun' of playing with the toy is being obnoxious to others. They make such behaviour not only acceptable, but expected. It becomes part of the play experience ...

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Xyn6gjxWTyI

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IzBio6VdsOA

Buy this toy and annoy.

It's okay ... we've showed you how to do it. Spray the girl next door with fake dinosaur acid. Taunt your brother after you give him a hot-wheeled beat down.

Don't get me wrong, I'm not saying these kids are doing anything more than being kids. These things happen. Kids taunt, slime and spray others. My girl does it all the time. In real life the play is not as clear-cut along gender lines as it is in the adverts.

But why are the girls in these ads always the victims?

I know the answer. Sales. Gender differentiation is important in product branding, etc. But I can't help despise this ad-sanction one-sided gender-biased play.