This blog seems to have spluttered along getting hits, comments & the occasional email. I don't know what the O stands for anymore. (aside from Awesome).
I just saw a movie that quite floored me (in a way that I haven't felt since I first saw John Sayle's Lone Star, more than a decade ago) - The Man From Earth, which I found in the Science Fiction section of the Wellington Public Library.
Quick disclaimer: There are no special effects whatsoever, most of the movie takes place in one room. I haven't checked, but I'd not be surprised if it was once a play.
Dr John Oldman has unexpectedly resigned from his job as a university professor. His colleagues pay a surprise visit to say farewell, and they're curious as to why he's leaving.
They get a truckload more than they expected - imagine you discovered that one of your colleagues was immortal & had been around for 14,000 years or so & didn't stay in any one place for more than 10 years? Or at least, claimed so. What would you ask him?
This is quite an educated script, as far as I can tell, regarding human evolution & religion (not that I'm any expert, but I suspect I know more about both than the average bear). What if you did meet someone like this, what would you ask them to confirm their stories?
They ask him some really clever questions that I'd never thought of, as well as all the clever ones I did think of.
The ending, if not all of his revelations (the wolf whistle has been around since cro-magnon times), caught me by surprise. I wept.
But that might just be me at the moment.
It's been a rough couple of years. Everything will change, I'm hopeful, for the better.
I have joined the circus.
This blog has ended. Its time has gone, but it's been good to me. And I feel a bit sad.
Like they used to say at the end of the James Bond movies:
Llew will return.
I'm just not sure when, where, nor indeed, in what guise.
BTW: I've really enjoyed Summer Noelle, Matinee Idle, & the summer seasons of Backbenchers & Media 7.
And hah, Glee - never mind Susan Boyle, imagine being at that the very first audition of that chick that plays Rachel! I mean holy hell. Puck makes me laugh too. Shit songs, major talent.
If you had the opportunity to change everything, absolutely everything, even (maybe) your identity, would you? And what would you do?
He was clad all in black: black shirt, black belt, black pants, black socks, black shades, black soul...
He swooped up the steps to the church hall as if in slow motion. He swept through the double doors of an adjoining room, they flapped closed elegantly behind him, in his mind's eye, a pigeon launched itself from the rafters, over his shoulder and out through the doors before they closed. "Whatever happens next", he thought, "This part's choreographed by John Woo."
Shit was about to go down.
Without pause he crossed the room in slow motion, surveying the occupants, a circle of seated men, all looking at the apparition that had just burst in. "Hey", he thought to himself, "there's that guy Pete from ....." He nodded. Then he wondered, not for the first time in his life "Where are all the women?"
A young man stood up from the circle, gave an unsure smile and said "Welcome to our erectile dysfunction workshop."
The man in black didn't flinch. Inwardly, he wondered if anyone could make out his eyes behind the shades. Looking only at the young man, he squeaked "Um... the social dancing medals?"
The young man looked deflated and only said "Next door."
"Sorry." The man in black spun around, and in glorious slow motion, swept back out of the room, knowing that he would never, ever visit ..... again.
And so last weekend, I danced foxtrot & cha cha for my first 2 Dance, Social Medal. My allocated time was 9.30am. I turned up at 9.00am so that I could sort out my partner for the dance (one of the very advanced women), and run through so that I didn't fluff up my steps.
When I got there I found they were already 50 minutes behind time. And so that gave me the chance to check out the others. These ranged from beginners like me, dressed in (black) "smart casual", to the highly advanced, and highly glitzed up mega-dancers.
First up was a young guy doing his 2 Dance Social too. I thought I could do better quite frankly. Then came a young woman in a gown, dancing her 4 Dance Social. I definitely could not do better than that.
There were the elegant, the stompers, the simply beautiful, the cool, the nervous, and the enthusiastic.
The judge spent most of the time chatting to the lady next to her, rather than watching the dancers, so I figured there was scope for improvisation.
There is a ritual to these things it turns out, when my turn came, Shona, my designated dancer & I held hands, walked to the lady doing the music, introduced ourselves & made very small talk. Then we approached the judge, introduced ourselves again & she made small talk about how to pronounce my name (like it's spelt: Llewjoihowicz), told her what we were doing - 2 Dance Social, foxtrot & cha cha.
And then we were up. Approximately one minute of each dance. I cannot remember what music was played.
My foxtrot was pretty good in my opinion, I didn't fall over, nor did I step on anyone's toes. My cha cha was OK. The audience clapped & cheered, but then, they did that for everyone.
Oh, and at the end, Shona & I curtsied & bowed to the judge.
I presume I got the medal, I find out whether with distinction or whatever, next week.
And yes, all sorts of diverse meetings do take place in other rooms of the community building in question.
I think a while ago I read or heard someplace that the Kapiti Coast author Linda Niccol was heartily sick of people approaching her & saying "You know so-and-so, from your short story Thingamibob? Was she by any chance based on my great aunt Mildred who lives down the road from you?"
At the time, I thought this was a bit precious, if it were me I'd be grateful anyone had read the story at all.
So anyway, I was at an old mate's 50th recently, and who should be there? I bounded over:
"Hey Linda"
"Hey Llew"
"Hey Linda, you know the fireman character in your story the Waterbores?"
"Yes", she said suspiciously.
"Of course you do, heh. Anyway, I was wondering if he was based on my brother-in-law Richard who lives down the road from you."
"No." (Very curtly.)
I'd have followed up with small talk, or possibly even confessed I did it on purpose (although I had always wondered), but across the room, who should I spot but Elizabeth Knox, and I was suddenly curious to find out if the angel Xas was based on Bill Manhire.
Standing in the airport in Auckland,
Trying to get to London first class
The man from the press said, you'll make such a mess
We'll let you off if you will give us a dance.
Christ you know it aint easy,
You know how hard it can be.
The way things are going
They're going to crucify me.
Finally made the plane into London,
Shacked up in a 5 star hotel
The PM called to say
You can make it o.k.,
If you both move to a fleapit motel
Christ you know it aint easy,
You know how hard it can be.
The way things are going
They're going to crucify me.
Flew from London to the Toronto Hilton,
Just been in our bed for a week.
The newspapers said, say what you doing in there?
I said, We're only trying to make our ends meet.
Christ you know it aint easy,
You know how hard it can be.
The way things are going
They're going to crucify me.
Spending up your money on a holiday,
Business class hilarity.
Last night the squeeze said,
Oh boy, when all's said
You'll put those seven hundred
On the dole - SHIT!
Made a lightning trip to Los Angeles,
Drinking protein shake from a boot
The newspapers said, she's gone to his head,
He looks like a baked bean in a suit.
Christ you know it aint easy,
You know how hard it can be.
The way things are going
They're going to crucify me.
Caught a recent plane into to Christchurch.
Told some folk the PM's a sloth
The men from the press said, we got to report this,
And now I get to face JK's wrath!
Christ you know it aint easy,
You know how hard it can be.
The way things are going
They're going to crucify me.
The way things are going
They're going to crucify me.
