The trouble with being dead, Bruce thought, was that is was really bloody boring.
Boredom didn't seem to bother the other ghosts. Not that there were many ghosts around. He was the only one in the Handy Pavilion, and there were just a few others in the Super Centre. Yet these others all seemed to have a purpose.
Take young Vinnie. Sixteen year old petrol-head. Died after a tire blew out while he was doing burnouts in the carpark late one night, sending his stolen Mazda crashing into an open stormwater drain. His spectral vehicle could still be seen from time to time, doing doughnuts in the moonlight. ...continue reading "Do It Yourself – Chapter 26: Ghost in the Machine"
We start with a nice, matter-of-fact opening. The who-what-where of Amelia Earhart's final flight. Good, basic journalism, over newsreel images of Earhart, 1930s planes, and the ocean. Solid intro. It's going to get silly after this, isn't it?
Next up is newsreel footage of Earhart's triumphant return to New York after her solo crossing of the Atlantic in 1932. A ticker-tape parade, how nice! Nimoy shushes while Earhart gives a speech from behind a battery of old-timey radio microphones.
"It is much easier to fly the Atlantic Ocean now, than it was a few years ago," she says. "I expect to be able to do it in my lifetime again. Possibly not as a solo expedition, but in regular trans-Atlantic service, which is inevitable in my lifetime." ...continue reading "In Search Off… S01E15 Amelia Earhart"
It's got Nazis, it's got plunder, it's got treasure hunting. Could be good? Let's find out.
We open on a few minutes of WWII archive footage. WWII. It's nice footage and beautifully narrated, but the TLDR of it is that the Nazis lost the war but didn't have the good manners to put back the stuff they pinched. Then to the studio, where Nimoy talks with righteous relish of the decline of the Third Reich. He explains how senior Nazis like Martin Borman took off with stolen gold and artwork. ...continue reading "In Search Of… S01E14 Nazi Plunder"
"Abhorred monster! Fiend that thou art! The tortures of hell are too mild a vengeance for thy crimes. Wretched devil!" - Mary Shelley, Frankenstein.
"I can't help it. It's the way I'm made." – Herman Munster, The Munsters.
In the generation after World War II, suburban life got to be the big thing in America. That's not just a physical or an economic statement, though it is. Vast new swathes of housing were being built for a new, prosperous class. Rising wages meant the average family could afford a bigger home, and the rise of the automobile meant people could live further from their workplaces.
But as I say, this wasn't just an economic thing, it was a social thing. As more people lived in suburbia, suburbia got to be the place where stories were set. This is particularly true with regard to TV. Upwardly mobile, predominantly white suburban dwellers had to own their TVs, and so TVs had to tell stories about white suburban dwellers. Sure, you could still find Lucy in her New York flat, or the stock bumpkins of Petticoat Junction, but mostly it was the comfortable suburban existence of the Cleevers, the Andersons and the Douglasses. And of course, the monsters. ...continue reading "The Munsters are Due on Maple Street"
Christian looked across garden furniture towards Norman in his little café apron and smirked. So less manly than his own hardware apron! All was going well. Norman was out and he, Christian, was the rising star of the Handy Pavillion!
Just look at Norman there, making coffee for Sadie and that guy with the glasses and big chin! Where would he be in five years time? Still making coffee! Where would Christian be? 2IC of the power tools section! Or even… dare he even dream it? Manager of power tools!
Of course, his success was not all down to him. He had his mentor to thank…
His shift had ended, so he made his way to the men's toilet and moved the hidden panel in the floor. Beneath was a narrow tunnel, which he descended by means of a ladder of huge cast iron staples. Hanging on one staple was an old electric lamp. He turned it on, clipped it to his belt, and continued his descent. ...continue reading "Do It Yourself, Chapter 25: Underground"
I got a warning from the Blog Police today, reminding me that every writer's website needs a bunch of writing tips on it. Well, speaking as someone whose writing sales are in the tens of dollars, I have to say that they are right. It is my clear duty to impart my great experience to you, the little people. Bask, then, in the light of my wisdom: ...continue reading "Writing Tips"
We open with Apollo astronauts on the Moon, because of course we do. We're told that the lunar astronauts experienced unusual perceptions during their journeys, and that astronaut Edgar Mitchel tried to send telepathic images from the Moon to the Earth in 1971. We are told that the chance of his results being accidental are quite low.
Cut to Nimoy at a table with a bunch of kids using Zenner cards, for testing telepathic powers. All of a sudden, I find myself switching from scepticism to jealousy. Why didn't I get to play 'psychic guess the card' with Nimoy? I'm not much younger than the kids in the story would have been.
Captain Stellar had been sober for fifty days. No. Captain Stellar wasn't around any more. It was Vincent who had been sober for fifty days. Only Vincent.
Vincent, off the bottle and here to make amends to the people he'd wronged. He'd written an anonymous cheque for the damage he'd done to the DIY Barn and the Place O'Pets, but that was just impersonal property damage. Now he had to make amends to the real people he'd hurt: Popplewell. Harper. Cho.
Nebulae! Our voices ascending to the heavens! We're awaiting a reply.... And I'm a little bored already. I'm not a SETI enthusiast. Honestly, I'd prefer some nice juicy account of a UFO abduction to footage of radio telescopes, even if that is where the call from space will arrive.
But then, out of the blue, we're talking about communicating with dolphins and suddenly I'm awake again. Nimoy tells us if we can communicate with one 'strange intelligence' that may give us the tools to talk to others. Interesting...
But then we're back to nebulae, portentous talk about the possibilities of intelligent life elsewhere in the universe and footage of, you guessed it! Radio telescopes. Nimoy gives a narration about the importance of radio telescopy, and damn but does he hit it out of the park. I'm starting to think that maybe there's something to my theory that he just likes the space stuff better than the pseudoarchaeology. ...continue reading "In Search Of… S01E12 A Call From Space"
Nalda scared the crap out of Fiona. Always had. She was tall, way taller and more solid than Fiona, and she never looked you quite directly in the eye. She had this thick European accent, and never smiled. And she was strong. Not just 'big person' strong, either. More like 'forklift truck' strong. Nalda wore sunglasses, even at night and she was forever threatening to travel back in time and kill someone.
On the other hand, she was quite good with children.
Belinda--who worked in Paints now-- was off sick. Fiona had been temporarily moved from Plumbing to Paints, and every time she went to the spray paint locker, she could see the little open area between the end of aisle fifteen and the rear wall of the Pavilion. There, in a little area behind a short plastic fence, Fiona saw Nalda leading the Saturday morning kids craft group.
"Ja, you see you are too much glidder using," Nalda said to a girl in a pink fairy princess costume. "Dat is why it is running. Go easy on der glidder, use it to accent der acrylic paints, not uberpower dem."
"Thanks, Miss Robot!" the child said, hugging Nalda's leg.