The One Without The Humorous Back Cover
A May (or May Not) Retrospective on a Foolish April 2014.
“Protecting the Interests of the Scum of the Universe…”
My new job at the Competition and Markets Authority (CMA) had a challenging start due to some computer problems on the day we went live - April 1st appropriately enough - which dogged us throughout the month. My job description had been arbitrarily changed to call-centre duty, my working hours were drastically altered and our manager demanded daily workflow details on three different spreadsheets. We were even given direct orders to put calls through to the contact’s voice mail if the person was unavailable without informing the caller that we were doing so - which in most companies I had worked for previously would have resulted in dismissal. This was, we were told, in accordance with our Chief Executive’s vision of the CMA as an organisation that would take details of complaints about competition issues, but would not advise on or discuss such matters. It would, apparently, serve the public trust, without actually having anything to do with the public. How this would serve any interests apart from those of corporate executives and high-ranking Civil Servants was not explained…
“Like a Brick into Troubled Waters...”
No-one would have believed, in the first days of February, the controversy that was to arise from Jonathan Ross being asked to present the Hugo Awards at Loncon3. Few would have anticipated the resulting Apocalyptic Twitterstorm. Yet the after effects continued to spread across the ensuing months, like ripples on a freshly disturbed pond. As April began, the First Thursday meeting for the month at the Melton Mowbray had a sizable turnout, but there did not seem to be many Trufans at their usual table. Of course, with a Worldcon to organise, and Eastercon a fortnight away, this was not unreasonable. Dubious speculation about them being too busy playing Goat Simulator on their superfluous technology was just par for the course. Rumours of a “Blowing” option being available as Down-Loadable Content remained unconfirmed.
In spite of this, we did our best to keep our assorted credentials up. Robert Newman expressed concern that a recent newspaper article about online abuse had made mention of the Fhannish furore surrounding Jonathan Ross and his family. Whether or not future historians would see this as the Fhannish equivalent of the Defenestration of Prague, or find any significant links with the founding of Brussels Sproutism (BS) remained unknown. Meanwhile, air pollution in the capital and sandstorms in the Middle East collided literally and metaphorically, with many comments being made on newspaper stories about sand from the Sahara desert being blown as far as London. Naturally, there was condemnation of the anti-foreign scaremongering put about by The Daily Seig Heil, whilst Robert Newman offered an entertaining alternative explanation. Instead of freak wind conditions, he claimed the sand was being stirred up by fanatical Wilson, Keppel and Betty Cultists, sand-dancing day and night with intent to bury London under Saharan sand. I didn’t quite catch all of it, possibly because I was in the wrong state of inebriation.
Meanwhile, an unexpected Stef had turned up. Tragically, Helena was not wearing her Somewhat Historically Inaccurate Victorian Prostitute Boots, so he was doomed to disappointment rather than distraction. However, the drinks and conversation flowed ever onwards and such matters were forgotten - unless someone wrote it up in a fanzine afterwards. Oh how we laughed as we maintained the old tradition - as per ancient charter - of talking toot in the pub.
“We’ve little dicks and big dogs…”
After several meteorologically tempestuous months, things brightened up during March and April looked set to follow suit. Concern was expressed about air pollution, particularly in London, with dire warnings about the impact on public health. This rose to near panic levels when storms in the Middle East blew sand from the Sahara desert as far as Britain. However, as in March, most of the British news in April was dominated by the Ukrainian crisis, as Russia took over Crimea and massed troops along the borders, as part of alleged “military exercises”. It certainly took attention away from the various problems that had brought censure down on politicians and officials throughout Britain, including the latest expenses and bribery scandals. The government continued to spout mindless nonsense, mostly about how well the country was recovering from the economic crisis. However, this was rather drowned out by the uproar over a three-day strike by underground workers, which brought chaos to London and cost the West End millions of pounds in lost revenue as people headed home early rather than going out to over-priced up-market venues. Given how much money both strikers and west-end venue owner normally got paid, I had no sympathy whatsoever with any of them.
Meanwhile, David Cameron, having previously claimed that the British were all Thatcherites now, declared that Britain was a Christian country - completely ignoring it’s pre-Christian past and the variety of cultures, beliefs and practices of the present day. Given that his ancestors probably believed Christianity originated in Britain, rather than Palestine in Judea, this did not surprise me. Of course, he still looked sensible when compared to the latest outbursts of insanity from the United Kingdom Independence Party (UKIP). However, UKIP leader Nigel Farage showed some unexpected sense when he decided not to stand as Member of Parliament for Newark. Many said this was because there would be little support for UKIP in an area full of staunch Conservative voters. Some of us suspected it had also something to do with the UKIP-appropriate anagram of Newark.
Personally, I wondered when the country would be swept by Brussels Sproutism (BS) - the belief that all politicians should be replaced by Brussels sprouts. With sprouts not being given to making stupid comments in public, cheating on their spouses, starting wars, oppressing the masses or committing genocide, it was easy to see their moral and intellectual superiority over politicians. Sadly, the majority remained more interested in the daily soap-opera lives of fatuous celebrities than events around them. Re-reading The Bojeffries Saga by Alan Moore and Steve Parkhouse, I felt consensus reality could not have made it more relevant if it tried. Meanwhile, the weather having brightened up during March, the unseasonably hot and sunny days continued into April. Easter Sunday was a notably wet and miserable exception, with the final week a combination of sunshine and showers. Moore and Parkhouse were on the comics shelves, all was right with the world as Pippa passed the port.
“What was our mission again…?”
Reason notwithstanding, the Monday night gaming sessions at the Penderel’s Oak in Holborn carried on, unabated. The food, prices and variety of guest ales remained pleasing and we still had enough space to get all the gaming groups back together under one roof. Unfortunately, the flow-through of new staff continued to complicate matters more often than not. Having made progress during March on the side plot in Shaun’s Cyberpunk™ story - obtaining information on Arasaka activities which Steve’s Solo traded for intelligence on the people we were interested in - we hit a snag at the end of the month. Shaun was unable to run on the on the last Monday of March. Then, owing to unforeseen circumstances, this hiatus spread into April. A couple of attempts by the rest of us to meet up anyway had varying degrees of success. The second such had 50 percent more people than the first and if Andy and I had stayed a bit longer, Jonny 5 would have joined us. That would have made it 50 percent of the player characters present and something like 40 percent of the group in total. Then came the Easter weekend, which meant we finally met up again on the last Monday of April.
As it turned out, with Andy and Steve being absent, their Solos were called on to help out with our carnival’s security, leaving the rest of us free to work our way through our contacts list and gather what information we could. We established the police officers were high flyers, who could be brought down with a tempting enough target - if we could come up with one. It was also clear that the priest and DMS were working together and that he had almost certainly put the “victim” up to the job of framing the accused - we just had no proof that would work in court. Siobhan’s Tech and Jonny 5’s fixer even visited the DMS-run rival carnival, Playland, to see if we could find any leads. They did spot a couple of the people our Solos had spotted noticed out our carnival, one in staff uniform - and managed to get pictures. It was only afterwards that they realised they had been the targets of illegal subliminal advertising, when they found themselves really wanting a specific brand of tasty beverage. Meanwhile, the tension notched up as the day of the hearing drew closer…
“Hetalia: Eurozone Crisis…”
Civil disorder continued to rage across the Eurozone as the cutbacks continued and public anger increased. Economies teetered, international relations tottered and things looked grim. Naturally, when the leaders of the major European nations were temporarily replaced with the cast of Hetalia: Axis Powers and World Series - a satirical alternative world history with various countries personified as nationally stereotypical homoerotic pretty-boys - no-one noticed. It was a telling measure of the degree to which European socio-political events had taken on the aspect of tragic-comic opera.
“Fifteen God Channels? That’s pretty good for a religion with only one God…”
The ZZ9 Third Wednesday meeting for April at The Sheaf, formerly known as The Wheatsheaf, had a very modest turnout, possibly due to the impending Eastercon. Alex and John Philpott were there when Jonny 5 and I arrived and we were joined in due course by Deb. Alex had much to say about merchandise matters, before having to depart for the Eastercon. John joined in with enthusiasm, talking about the old days of ZZ9 merchandise. He then fell to talking Swing dancing and the forthcoming Worldcon’s 1939 Party with Deb. Then for an encore he told us about the new Sky television package he and his wife had got. This apparently included a surprising number of Christian faith channels. However, there was no mention of the latest World’s Greatest Miley Cyrus Joke, about her forthcoming World Tour. Allegedly, the European leg would involve her playing with electro-pop veterans KrafTwerk after which she planned to go down under with popular Australian beat combo Men At Twerk. Luckily, the drinks and conversation flowed ever onwards and much was forgotten, including the De-Fhan-estration of Jonathan Ross and the Twitterstorm of the Apocalypse - unless someone wrote it up in a fanzine. Deb left just after Alex, due to various pressures including work. John decided on an early night soon after, making Jonny 5 and I the last to depart. Oh how we laughed as we maintained the old tradition - as per ancient charter - of talking toot in the pub.
“So long Mom, I’m off to drop The Bomb…”
Reason not withstanding, the universe continued unabated. America’s ongoing problems with wildfires, flooding and lunatics with guns - some of them police - shooting each other were added to by events such as a catastrophic mudslide that claimed nearly 30 lives and a series of tornadoes that battered Arkansas, leaving 16 dead. Chile was rocked by a sizable earthquake and riots broke out in Rio, as preparations for the World Cup got under way. Political instability, mass killings and corruption remained rife throughout Africa, but no-one took much notice, probably because there was no oil involved. The Middle East continued to teeter on the edge whilst problems with elections in Thailand resulted in a series of protests. North and South Korea fired on each other’s territory, as tensions rose over nearby military exercises and although very little appeared in the news, anti-government protests and food riots in Venezuela escalated. As ever, the otherwise un-noticed men and women of the emergency services stood to and did what had to be done, saving lives and demonstrating Humanity at its best.
Meanwhile, Russian troops having taken over Crimea, the Ukrainian situation continued to deteriorate. Numerous arrests and several deaths were reported in the news and various world leaders condemned the actions of Russian President and raging homophobe Vladimir Putin. However, in spite of sanctions, things continued to get worse. Russian troops massed on the borders, as part of alleged “military exercises” and generals from the North Atlantic Treaty Organisation (NATO) began drawing up strategic plans to protect its members. Oddly enough, I was not the only person who wondered why Putin had invaded, when he could have aided the pro-Russian factions whilst cutting support to the rest of the nation, without attracting condemnation or sanctions. Sadly, it seemed there might be some truth in the idea that Putin was having a mid-life crisis. Instead of buying flashy cars and taking up with someone half his age - like a normal person - he was rattling his political sabre, waving his metaphorical willy and trying to start World War III to prove his manliness.
“I am returned from the grave. Let this day be known hereafter as Easter and stuff your kids with sugar and caffeine in thanks…”
My landlady went to Spain for Easter week with her boyfriend, so I was able to get at the kitchen for once. I was also up to date with my writing, both personal and ZZ9-related - there being a limit to what even I could make up. So, having the long weekend free, in between cooking for myself, I did some ad-hoc research into various forms of temporal sink. By Monday, I had come to some preliminary conclusions. Surfing the Internet had, for me, been the greatest time-sink in terms of hours spent, but it had not particularly satisfied, frustrated or interested me beyond a few moments here and there. Videogames, I felt, had proved to be both the second most frustrating and second most satisfying way to spend the second longest amount of time. Fandom and the Eastercon would, at one time, have made my Easter weekend into four joyful days spent busily doing nothing. Yet, whenever I thought of it, or read an Internet update from those at the convention, I felt only disinterest and alienation. I also felt rather perturbed, as I wondered how, why and when I had stopped finding it fun. However, the most frustration I felt all weekend was in the mercifully few moments when I thought of work.
“…”
In a world of hurts, filled with lands of confusion, the havens were all too few and far between as April began. On the legal front, Tony Blair managed to get name checked for “advising” Rebekah Brooks over the phone-hacking scandal, as the trial of the former News of The World editor proceeded apace. Meanwhile, the epic legal saga of the late Jimmy Savile’s crimes looked all set to rival Game of Thrones as a lengthy story of evil scumbags getting away with doing as they pleased. There was great rejoicing as never-popular celebrity fixer and wheeler-dealer Max Clifford was convicted. Clifford remained unrepentant whilst Conservative Member of Parliament Nigel Evans denied all and claimed to have suffered terribly. Dave Lee Travis went to face further charges and accusations were even made about the late Cyril Smith. Meanwhile, in South Africa, the trial of Oscar Pistorias - the athlete known as the Blade Runner, because of the carbon-fibre “blades” that replaced his missing legs - got under way. Having been charged with murdering his girlfriend, there was much legal debate over his claim that he had shot her, thinking she was an intruder. At least no-one suggested that he had thought she was a Replicant. In other news, the hunt for the missing Malaysian Airlines flight continued, with fresh hope raised as a specialist submersible searched for the flight recorder. Meanwhile, a South Korean ferry capsized, leaving nearly 200 people dead and more missing. Charges were brought against the officers and crewmen and many awkward questions were raised. However, true to form, teenage boys continued to be far too interested in picturing Natalya Poklonskaya, the Crimean Senior Counsellor of Justice, as a moe anime girl.
“Well, that could have gone much worse…”
Meanwhile, in a universe at least superficially not entirely unlike our own, Kevin’s G.U.R.P.S™ story sent our team off to recover a missing laptop with some important data on it. Or so we had been told. As we tracked the missing item, we came across unexpected evidence that this was all a set up, culminating in a trio of corpses in the house where we finally found the missing item. Then we had to try and get the item returned - an apparently simple task complicated by the arrival of an agent from the department whose laptop and data it was. On orders from above, we accompanied her back to the facility she had been told to deliver the laptop to, only to find the place locked down due to an outbreak of zombies. Consulting with our superiors, we were duly told to investigate, as there were several irregularities in the situation - not least the fact that a heavily armed containment and clean-up team had not been sent in, when to do so was standard procedure.
After some intense role-playing as we tried to negotiate our way past an unfortunate clerk who was apparently under orders to be as bureaucratically obstructive as possible when dealing with anyone who was not authorised personnel, we finally got the door open. After some hilarity with zombies, we got it shut again and aided by the clerk found a fairly safe way upstairs. Here we encountered the head of the facility and after some hilarity involving him and the agent we had met earlier, we learned some very nasty truths. The laptop had been a booby trap that had been allowed to fall into the hands of a cell of rival agents. We had unwittingly been part of the cover-up and recovery of the evidence. We also learned the facility was testing methods of dealing with zombies - and that the person in charge had been using a young offenders’ employment scheme to supply test subjects. Naturally, there was much cleaning up to do, whilst the guilty parties were taken away to be dealt with.
Shortly afterwards, our computer system was the target of an attempted hacking. After some research, we found out that the attack had originated at the University of Sydney, in Australia, so we ended up making a brief trip down under to assess the situation. In spite of our best efforts, we failed to find the hacker, who had been taken prisoner by a group who had apparently been duped by a Syndicate Agent into serving the interests of Pentex. When we finally got to the offices they were operating out of, we found the place was full of gas. The hacker was killed in the resulting explosion and we were set upon by a dozen hired heavies led by a severely corrupted Garou. Unfortunately, my Immortal character suffered true death, although the team contained the situation and found out who had been behind the attack. Thus, the success of our mission - given that the Crawling Chaos did not make manifest, even as Nyaruko-San - was tinged with sadness. Although the game had been shorter than usual, it had been enjoyably challenging, whilst the ensuing drinks and a lengthy discussion about what sort of character I should play next brought the evening to a satisfactory end.
“It’s got nothing to do with Vorsprung Durch Technik you know…”
In spite of the problems that dogged the Competition and Markets Authority (CMA) throughout April, there were compensations. Our offices were in a Grade II listed 1920s building in the neo-classical style, complete with art-deco ballroom. The basement featured a bowling alley with 1950s style diner at one end of the building and a burlesque venue at the other. Naturally, these were nothing to do with the CMA, who only had offices in part of the building. Externally, it was the very model of an old-style government office. Sadly, much of the interior had been remodelled by some arty type who decided the building needed two huge glass-walled atria from ground floor to roof, with two meeting room “pods” suspended in mid-air at sixth floor level. I felt it looked far too much like a cheap knock off of a set from Star Wars. Not that the pods were needed, with the owners having already converted the staff café and rest areas into meeting rooms, leaving nowhere to eat or take a break. Luckily, the location provided some alternatives. I could eat lunch in Bloomsbury Square Gardens, visit the British Museum, or even wander off to Forbidden Planet if I felt so inclined. Or I could just sit and watch the tourists watch the office workers watch the nouveau riche go by. Weather permitting, naturally.
“Free shit? Yes, but at least it’s different shit…”
The Sci-Fi London anime all-nighter did not seem to be offering any “stand out” items, but several of them sounded interesting enough for me to go along anyway. I arrived just as it was about to start and found that ZZ9 secretary Sue was doing staff duty handing out goody bags on the door. Once inside, I noted that there was a relatively small turnout, but I decided to keep my outlook positive. The first film, Patema Inverted was from the makers of Time of Eve. In terms of its appearance and the heart-warming nature of the tale, it resembled a Miyazaki production. However, there were a number of deft and distinctive touches that set it apart, hinting at darker and more satirical influences such as Gilliam’s Brazil and Asimov’s Caves of Steel. I found the lead characters plausible and consistent in terms of their actions and motivations, although some of the others were a bit lacklustre. The twist ending was very much as expected, but remained uplifting and heartening. We then had the first break, with Bulldog energy drink on offer, with and without sugar, alongside both salty and sweet popcorn. This offer was repeated between each of the features and proved most welcome. The second film, Blood-C: The Last Dark was indeed rather dark. A thoroughly blood-soaked combination of action and conspiracy amongst those who hunt monsters and those who create and manipulate said monsters for their own ends. Not being a particular fan of the other Blood-C works, I felt I was probably missing some of the nuances, but overall it seemed a solid, straight-forward supernatural action-conspiracy film.
Sadly, due to circumstances, Kill La Kill was not available to be shown. I took the pragmatic view that at least I would not have to contend with people assuming that watching an anime with a Stripperiffic Heroine meant I was an even bigger pervert than they had thought. That said, the series was at least Equal Opportunities in its Gratuitous Near Nudity, with Stripperiffic male and female characters and a Nudist Rebel Alliance. As for Space Dandy, the new series from Shinichiro Watanabe, of Cowboy Beebop fame, I felt it was very watchable. Admittedly, it set whole new standards for gratuitous silliness combined with a disregard for the Fourth Wall I had not seen since Haiyore! Nyaruko-San. Not to mention a plethora of pop-culture sight-gags, ranging from Carpenter’s Dark Star to Romero zombie films via the obligatory recherché references, self-referentiality and space-anvils dropping on people’s heads - In Space. However, one episode was played straight - and in my view it was on a par with any of the better Cowboy Beebop stories. I also felt that with his Haircut of Awesome and lackadaisical attitude, a depressed robot and a Betelgeusian with an unpronounceable name, all that Space Dandy really needed was a second head and a third arm - especially when hanging around in BooBies™ where some of the waitresses have three or more breasts. Why the main antagonist had a spaceship that resembled the head of the Statue of Liberty wearing a ball gag remained unexplained.
The final feature was Gurren Lagann The Movie: Childhood’s End. Some series take the action up to 11. Gurren Lagann started at 11 and upped the action on a regular basis. Some stories can be described as a “love letter” to a particular genre or style. Gurren Lagann was, in my view, a glorious hymn to the joys of ludicrously over-the-top Giant Robot anime shows. It was the series that made Transformers go: “I’ll get me coat”. Epic in its silliness, it only failed to be bigger, louder and dumberer than a Michael Bay film, because it is almost impossible to be dumberer than a Michael Bay film. I felt that Childhood’s End, the first of the film adaptations, which covered the story up to the defeat of the Four Generals, was well done, although it had to summarise a fair bit. It even improved on one or two points by careful use of montages and stills, at the risk of confusing those unfamiliar with the original series. However, it was in the re-working of certain key scenes that the film really shone. Afterwards, I wandered out into the damp Sunday morning, with the rest of the audience. On the way home, I sorted through the freebies: horror novel Apartment 16, space-opera Stealing Light - book one in a new series - and time-travel mystery DVD Dimensions. At least it wasn’t Ice, like last time.
“Memento Mori…”
March’s noteworthy deaths included L’Wren Scott, the fashion designer and girlfriend of Mick Jagger, who died by her own hand. In April, Hollywood legend Mickey Rooney bowed out after a long and distinguished career. Journalist, model and socialite Peaches Geldof, daughter of Bob Geldorf and the late Paula Yates, died suddenly and tragically young at the age of 25. James Hellwig, famous in World Wrestling Entertainment (WWE) as The Ultimate Warrior passed onward, shortly after being inducted into the WWE Hall of Fame. The tributes from the fans and his fellow wrestlers were many and heartfelt. Much-loved author Sue Townsend, creator of Adrian Mole, departed the literary scene after a short illness, with many plaudits from fans and fellow writers alike. West Ham youth forward Dylan Tombides lost his battle with cancer, Columbian Nobel Laureate and novelist Gabriel Garcia Marquez laid down his pen and the noted philanthropist, travel writer and conservationist Mark Shand died in an accident involving a revolving door. Finally, much-loved British actor Bob Hoskins - famed for playing gangsters and hard men from the east end of London - passed onward. The many tributes from friends, family, fans and fellow actors and actresses were a timely reminder of the depth and breadth of his career. Rest in Peace…