R I P Torchwood

Its official, Captain Jack Harkness has become nothing more than a bit player in the series created around him. I struggled through last night’s second episode, praying that Captain Jack and Beth would come to the fore. Sadly, both of Torchwood’s chief characters were pushed into the background in a sea of dross inhabited largely by unknowns.
In my post “Torchwood the Dissapointment! http://akhen1khan2.blogspot.com/2011/07/torchwood- I wrote that in my opinion, this new series was deliberately written for the US market. 
Boy was I right!
It took a solid hour to reveal part of the story, which, if it was still controlled by the brilliant team who write, produce and film the Dr Who series, would have happened in five minutes. 
The story-line, if you can call it that, is so bogged down in seemingly unconnected side stories, making the experience at best boring, at worst totally confusing and quite frankly nonsensical!
Will I watch the next episode? No!
Sorry Captain Jack, sorry Beth. I can’t stand seeing your characters relegated into the background any longer.
RIP Torchwood.

1612

Its only right and fitting that a bloody period in old Russia’s history should be told by the Russians themselves. Thank god Hollywood was not involved.

1612 is a violent and bloody movie told in Russian with English subtitles about an equally blood period in Russia’s history, the “Time of Chaos”, when Russia was leaderless. Her last Tsar had just been murdered and the throne was the prize.

This film covers those chaotic years when a Polish prince sought to become the next Tsar through his marriage to the dead Tsar’s sister. But his ambition is thwarted by a serf in love with his wife.

Only the Russian’s could come up with a tale like this – part fantasy, part folklore, part truth.

It starts slowly as we meet the main characters, the serf Andrei, his master a Spanish mercenary, a Tatar, the Tsarina Kseniya Godunova, the last of her line, and her husband the Polish pretender. But before you know it you are in the middle of bloody fighting, scenes where a holy-man stands on a platform in a forest seeing and knowing all, and the frequent  appearance of a unicorn. Yes, you heard me right – a unicorn. 

Needless to say the pretender fails, and as I have come to expect in any Russian tale, Andrei the serf despite winning the day for mother Russia in the battle for Moscow outside the walls of the Kremlin, still remains a serf. And the love of his life Kseniya escapes the hangman’s noose by being sent to become a nun.

I give it four stars for the action sequences, particularly the siege of the walled town.

Flies


What is it with flies? Why do they feel the need to want to drive you to distraction? 
You know the ones I’m talking about, the kind who sneak inside your home undetected. They decide to sit on you, not caring exactly which part of you, just so long as it is out of your immediate reach. Or, they settle on your television screens and wander back and forth crapping, leaving those tiny spots and distracting your enjoyment of the programme. Or, they decide that your cup of coffee or your sandwich looks inviting.
I have one here with me right now. So far the little beggar has landed on the toes of my right foot twice, my stomach once, the sole of my left foot at least six times, and about a half hour ago snuck down the inside of my chair beside me and decided that the right side of my body would benefit from him walking on it.
The trouble with this little invader of my privacy is that he is the latest design in flies – the stealth model. He makes no noise when he spreads his wings. He doesn’t constantly go for your face. No, he hides and waits patiently until you are no longer watching, then he strikes.
Another thing – he’s really smart.
If I go and get the fly spray, he disappears from the room. The sneaky little so and so hides in the dark with the multi lenses of his beady eyes trained on me, ready to make his next sneak attack.
Where is a Gecko when I need one?

The Master Calls Me


It’s that time of year once again when I pay my personal homage to the undisputed master of fantasy – J.R.R Tolkien.

Ever since I first read The Hobbit when I was twelve, I totally fell head over heels in love with Middle Earth and all its inhabitants. Now in my middle sixties, whenever I open the pages of any of Tolkien’s magnificent tales, I instantly become at one with the characters, the plot and the lands of Middle Earth.
Each year I’m drawn back – I just can’t help myself.
Each time I read The Hobbit, it is as if it were the very first time. Next I lose myself in the three books of the Lord of the Rings trilogy – The Fellowship of The Ring, The Two Towers and The Return of The King, paperback versions all and well thumbed.
Next I take out my Lord of The Rings DVD collection and sit back to watch Peter Jackson’s brilliant interpretation, but only one disk each day to prolong the pleasure.
Then I reverently return the books back to where they live on my book shelves and the box set back to its place of abode among the rest of my DVD’s until next year.
Like Gollum I have my own precious’s.
I’m fortunate to own hardbound editions, full of wonderful illustrations which never get read. No human hands will ever soil them, nor will they ever have their spines broken or their dust covers damaged.
I seriously doubt whether any other fantasy author’s works have, or ever will, capture my imagination the way Tolkien’s have over my lifetime.
I’ll see you by the gate outside Bag End dear Bilbo, or maybe on the road to Rivendell, sometime next year I hope.

More About Those Characters Who Totally Consume Me


I’ve just finished writing the seventh in my series of Goblin Tales for Adults, entitled “Evil’s Shadow Grows Longer”.
For too long your average goblin has been much maligned. Far from being the loathsome evil creatures portrayed in fairy tales, I am of the firm belief that they are indeed on the whole entirely friendly creatures, despite the way the humins treated them when the two races first met, two thousand summers before the first in this series of goblin tales was writ.
The five wood goblins I created several months ago – Globular Van der Graff, (Glob), Makepeace Terranova (Make), Byzantine Du Lac (Byz), Eponymous Tringthicky (Mous) and finally, curmudgeonly old Neopol Stranglethigh (Neo), seem to have taken over my life in one way or another.
I have created an imaginary world for them to inhabit, which they share with the equally imaginary forebears of humanity, a group of early upright bipeds collectively called ‘Humins’, along with Witches both black and white, Griffins, Wyverns, Gremlins, Ogres, Trolls and the odd Wizard.
At the moment I see no visible end to the tales Glob, Make, Byz, Mous and Neo intend relating to me.
Here is the list of goblin tales writ so far in chronological order:
Glob and Me
The Hunt for a Friend
All That Glisters
For the Love of Acorns
A Spell is Cast
The Question
Evil’s Shadow Grows Longer
You can read them for yourself, always providing of course that you are an adult – they are definitely not for children. Click the red ‘stories’ hypertext link above the current stories available on the front page of the excellent online Ezine “Angie’s DIARY”. Just type my name and you will find them.
Keep your eyes peeled on “Angie’s” in the future for further Goblin Tales for Adults.
Cheers,
Jack Eason – Wood Goblin chronicler