The One Without The Humorous Back Cover
A September Retrospective on August 2014.
“Women are not allowed the honour of combat. Unless they are insanely hyper girls in state-of-the-art combat suits, armed with paralysis whips, firing volleys of missiles, demolishing all in their path...”
Reason notwithstanding, the Monday night gaming sessions at the Penderel’s Oak in Holborn carried on, unabated. The flow-through of new staff continued to complicate matters more often than not, and booking issues did not help, although they did remember on one occasion. Sadly, it was one of the days when we had to cancel, due to players being unavailable. We also had to move to another part of the downstairs bar, when a large group of French tourists packed out the tables around us and began Talking Very Loudly In French. We did wonder if this was in retaliation for the traditional approach of British tourists abroad - namely crowding into bars and Talking Very Loudly In English.
In spite of this, the side plot in Shaun’s Cyberpunk™ story progressed. In July, we passed evidence linking a high-ranking priest, a certain media corporation and the police lieutenant in charge of the investigation - which also revealed that the priest had made arrangements to bring the “victim” in to make charges, before the event - to the detectives who had made the arrest. In August, the officers requested a meeting to discuss the matter, which we duly agreed to, having first made suitable arrangements for our own security. We knew they were ambitious and that exposing their superior as corrupt could further their careers, but naturally, as high-tech nomads in the year 2020, we were well aware of how far we could (not) trust them.
In the event, the meeting went off well enough, and we made our pre-arranged exit safely. Meanwhile, our perimeter team watched our backs and even tailed the perimeter team for the two officers back to their base. It was oddly reassuring to know that they were equally aware of how far they could (not) trust us. Then it was a matter of awaiting further developments. What we did not expect was a request for a meeting with a totally different officer, from another section, who apparently had an interest in the case. Intrigued, we made the arrangements and turned up to see what he had to say…
“Some things change, some stay the same…”
Like July, the weather in August was a combination of blazing sunshine and occasional showers. The ongoing Ukrainian crisis vied with the latest outbreak of fighting between Israel and Palestine and the depredations and atrocities of the Islamic State of Iraq and the Levant for the front pages of British newspapers. The spread of the latest ebola outbreak only added to the woes of the world.
Unluckily for David Cameron, the Great Paedophilia Scandal continued, with several officials, including a child care advisor being implicated. Even Sir Cliff Richard was accused of past misdemeanours, to great public surprise. However, as if to prove things could always get worse, allegations of grand-scale abuse by gangs in Rotherham and a cover-up implicating police and social services alike hit the news. The excuses ranged from the feeble to the frankly unbelievable, whilst the sheer brass-plated audacity of those who refused to accept responsibility, was an utter disgrace. The defection of a Conservative Member of Parliament to the United Kingdom Independence Party did not help the government’s credibility.
However, not all the news was doom and gloom. The centenary services for the outbreak of World War I passed off peacefully, as various heads of state laid wreaths and made speeches. Personally, I felt the best tribute humanity could pay to the sacrifice of those who had died in this and other conflicts was to make sure it never happened again, but that was just my unrealistic expectations coming to the fore. The unexpectedly hot and sunny weather continued and saw Britain experiencing the sort of temperatures normally associated with the tropical regions. However, there were a number of exceptions and several parts of the country saw extensive flooding before the month was out, with the August bank holiday weekend for 2014 being one of the coldest and wettest on record.
“These would be The Violets Inherent In The System, then…”
The First Thursday meeting for August at the Melton Mowbray had a modest turnout, due to people being at Nine Worlds. I was told it was aimed at the Young and Trendy, so why they told me, I had no idea, since Richard was meant to be the ZZ9er most in touch with Young and Trendy Fandom. Agents of ZZ9 Plural Z Alpha - Wag, Helena and the Waglets - were there and had a very good time, by all accounts. According to later reports, I got the impression that Nine Worlds had been the kind of convention that ZZ9ers used to attend because they sounded like fun. Given that light-hearted events tended not to be commonplace nowadays, I made a mental note to see about attending the next one.
The Trufan corner was almost deserted, due to pre-Worldcon preparations. However, there was a healthy central group, gathered around several unexpected visitors from Canada and Australia. They had come for Loncon 3, the 72nd Worldcon and had decided to pay us a visit whilst they were in the area. Naturally, we made up for our lack of numbers with the heartiness of our welcome.
Meanwhile, there was talk of current affairs, such as the horrific situation in Gaza, the depredations of the Jihadists, and the Islamic Caliphate and the inability of politicians to do anything that would not make matters worse. However, we also got onto the geo-political history of Europe, with particular relevance to the borders of Finland and Poland, gender, and theological issues. Naturally, we had to allow for history being written by the victors - except in theocracies, where it would be written by the Vicars. Even gardening took on a political air, due to a plethora of violets and a Marxist paraphrase. The presence of those behind International Revolutionary Gardener was apparently coincidental.
Luckily for everyone there, the drinks and conversation flowed ever onwards and much that was said was duly 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.
“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 internal socio-politics had taken on the aspect of tragi-comic opera.
“Three Days of the Con-goer…”
The weather in August continued to combine blazing sunshine and occasional showers. It was also the month when many of us had to choose between the Great British Beer festival and Loncon 3. Some people could afford both. However, they had to choose which programme items they were willing to miss, in order to visit Britain’s biggest annual beer festival. Originally, I had no intention of going to Loncon 3. I cited Lack of Funds, a socially acceptable excuse, unlikely to raise awkward questions. However, on the Wednesday before the convention began, a change of circumstances led to a change of heart and plans. So, on a mostly sunny Friday, I arrived at the ExCel centre, and headed for registration.
Had it been my first convention, I would have been impressed with the welcome I received. Having been to a few conventions, including a couple of Worldcons, I was still impressed. None of us knew each other, but all were willing to talk and share tips and hints about where to eat, drink and make merry. I even got a cheap membership someone was selling, which felt like a good start. Looking at the programme, I realised I was in for three very hectic days. If there was a particular problem with Loncon 3, it was the sheer scale of the event, which did lead to one or two periods of feeling lost and isolated. However, I had to conclude that this was inevitable at an event of this size. I also found that most of the items I wanted to attend clashed - but that was my problem, rather than any fault of the convention organisers.
Ironically, the one place that I felt needed to be larger was the part of the bar where people could just sit maintaining the old tradition - as per ancient charter - of talking toot at a convention. Although it was a fair size, it seemed crowded, due to the number of stalls advertising different conventions. It was hardly the fault of the organisers, but I personally would have liked more open space to just lounge around and relax. The bar itself sold good beer at reasonable prices - for London - and was well staffed at all times. I found the ExCel centre staff to be fairly friendly and helpful, and heard a number of people praising them. There were a few stories of staff being officious and awkward, but these seemed very few and far between.
So many things were happening at the same time I only went to a few events, due to clashes. Otherwise, I mostly sat at the ZZ9 sales table, selling Beeblebears to the vulnerable, with occasional circulating and socialising. I even made a couple of forays into hall costume, as a Dr Who cosplay (budget edition) and a generic Steampunk. Overall, I had an exceptionally fine time - especially at the Barfleet Party - and got photographed a lot. It must have been the leather trousers. I also noted that ZZ9 had a distinguished convention, being described as “vibrant” in one panel, whilst a “family photograph” - of Wag, Helena and the Waglets - graced the front page of The Guardian. We also got a sizable turnout at the Beeblebears Picnic - including Brad, a Canadian Fan, who was attending Loncon 3 “virtually” from the USA. His physical presence in the UK was a “Beam” robot, or drone, or wheeled Remotely Piloted Vehicle, which he was operating via laptop from a robotics conference in Idaho. He even had a picture of a Beeblebear on the display screen for the occasion. Otherwise, from the numerous social network posts I saw, it seemed that ZZ9ers were involved in most of the shenanigans at Loncon 3. It looked like the Forty Two Hour Party People were on good form.
August saw the deaths of actor JJ Murphy, actor, comedian, and gamer Robin Williams and actress Lauren Bacall. However, Loncon 3 was fortunate in that none of the living Guests of Honour shuffled off their mortal coils at the convention. In fact, as several of us observed afterwards, we had all been at a convention with George R R Martin and none of us had suffered a gruesome fate - unlike many of the characters in his books. In fact, we generally seemed to have enjoyed ourselves a great deal at Loncon 3, the 72nd Worldcon.
“War, Death, Famine and Pestilence - Looks like the gang’s all here…”
Reason not withstanding, the universe continued unabated. The ongoing Ukrainian crisis vied with the latest outbreak of fighting between Israel and Palestine and the depredations and atrocities of the Islamic State of Iraq and the Levant for the front pages of newspapers.
Then a series of tectonic upsets, earthquakes and volcanic eruptions occurred - as if to remind upstart humanity that nature could be just as red in tooth and claw. The spread of the latest ebola outbreak only added to the woes of the world.
Naturally, there was much discussion amongst the politicians and leaders of various nations. As usual, whilst there was a lot of talking, remarkably little was actually done to alleviate the suffering of the victims. Sadly, it seemed that whilst nature or misfortune might kill many, humans were still more ingenious when it came to atrocities, abuses and excuses.
“I’m too pretty to be played by Stan Lee™…”
The ZZ9 Third Wednesday meeting for August at The Sheaf, formerly known as The Wheatsheaf, had a rather modest turnout. However, given that this was only a couple of days after Loncon 3, this was no surprise. We congratulated Sue on her birthday, and even refrained from mentioning the latest World’s Greatest Miley Cyrus Joke. This was due to entertainment industry restrictions under a Twerk To Rule agreement with the unions. We did however spend some time on Loncon 3, looking at photos and marvelling at how well the sales table had done. We then digressed onto news, views, politics, and the farce of the latest investigation into accusations of paedophilia amongst the high and mighty. Having covered sex and politics, we segued into religion, with the ease of a businessman Segway-ing off of a cliff, followed by employment, managers and their dislike of inconvenient truths.
Just as we were getting serious on matters of leadership, empathy and psychotic tendencies, Jerry managed to divert us onto Guardians of The Galaxy and how much fun it was. Based on a fairly obscure group of Marvel™ characters, with a story much like one from A Long Time Ago, In A Galaxy Far, Far Away, not to mention a certain Post US Civil War Western In Space, the emphasis was clearly on comedy. It could have gone horribly wrong, but thanks to good writing and characterisation it worked. Whilst not quite up to the standards of Joss Whedon, it was clearly working on similar lines, particularly in terms of dialogue and characters. The acting was more than a match for the writing, and reached several high points, in spite of the limitations on some of the characters. Admittedly, the film was not profound, meaningful or life-changing, but then it was Guardians of The Galaxy rather than War and Peace. It was a wild roller-coaster ride of an action film, full of knowing in-jokes and cameos - including the obligatory Stan Lee™, playing Simo an aging pervert in glasses. It was two hours of my life I would never get back - but it had been so much fun, I didn’t mind a bit.
How we then got from fandom and conventions to the subject of sex and sexuality via cosplay and crossplay was not clear to me, possibly because I was in the wrong state of inebriation. Thankfully, the drinks and conversation flowed ever onwards and much was forgotten, unless someone wrote it up in a fanzine at some point. Oh how we laughed as we maintained the old tradition - as per ancient charter - of talking toot in the pub.
“Life, death, tears, and laughter…”
In a world of hurts, filled with lands of confusion, the havens were all too few and far between as August began. On the legal front, the ongoing celebrity child abuse scandal continued, with Sir Cliff Richard taking the place of Rolf Harris as Celebrity Least Expected to Face Accusations of Child Abuse. Meanwhile, Rolf Harris began his appeal. I wondered if his part-performance of Jake the Peg and demonstration of his wobble board technique in court would count against him. At least he had not given them a quick burst on the stylophone or whipped out his didgeridoo. Rumours about him doing Two Little Boys remained unconfirmed.
The sports news for the month moved from the World Cup in Brazil and the Commonwealth Games onto motor racing. The usual proceedings were somewhat enlivened by controversy, involving bribery and corruption. However, the majority appreciated the irony of Formula One racing boss Bernie Ecclestone paying almost £60 million to German prosecutors to avoid a bribery trial. It was almost enough to make me nostalgic for the dancing Tunnock’s Teacakes and John Barrowman kissing a man in a kilt.
Meanwhile, on the celebrity front, the there was both sadness and joy in the many tributes to and remembrances of Robin Williams, after he killed himself during a severe bout of depression. Not only the number, but all too often the nature of the tributes said a great deal about him, and why he was greatly loved and would be sorely missed. Then, as the month came to an end, Angelina Jolie and Brad Pitt got married, bringing a happy finale to August.
“The erotic adventures of a sexually perverted sloth at a Japanese Worldcon…”
The Third Thursday Post-Loncon 3 Event in the Melton Mowbray had a very good attendance, although it was only days after the convention. Many of those who had come from overseas to attend the Worldcon turned up as they were still in London and the downstairs bar soon filled up. A Hugo winner turned up with her award, which was much photographed. In fact, the only group that seemed thin on the ground was ZZ9. The usual corner of the pub was deserted, and initially it was only Helena and I until Alex arrived. Some time later, Jim and Meike turned up, but there was no sign of any of the usual suspect regulars.
There was some talk of current affairs, such as the horrific situation in Gaza, the depredations of the Jihadists, and the Islamic Caliphate and the inability of politicians to do anything that would not make matters worse. However, we soon got onto other matters including issues of age, gender and facial hair. The realisation that Jim and Conchita Wurst had never been seen at the same time was probably just a coincidence. We even celebrated the fact that we had all been at a convention with George R R Martin and none of us had suffered a gruesome fate - unlike many of the characters in his books. We even discussed fanzines, awards and fan funds to send deserving individuals to conventions. Naturally, this led onto the necessity of sending Jim to a Japanese Worldcon, so that he could write a con report entitled Super Hentai Gerald San.
Luckily, the drinks and conversation flowed ever onwards and much was forgotten - unless someone wrote it up in a fanzine. In due course, the evening began to wind down. So we dispersed, satisfied we had maintained the old tradition - as per ancient charter - of talking toot in the pub.
“There’s no safe answer to that…”
At work, a weekly briefing from the management was enlivened by a correction to one of the events advertised on the in-house network. Apparently, the new Pilates exercise class had been advertised as a Pirates exercise class. I could only conclude that this was aimed at those naughty nautical types who were sick of hearing the phrase: “Avast Behind!”...
“The Walking Dead meets Children of Men on The Road…”
Jim’s birthday celebration took place in the Craft brewery pub on Leather Lane in Clerkenwell. The turnout was modest, but dedicated. The range of beers was far more than we could have drunk, even if we only stuck to ones which sounded like Adult Film titles. This did not discourage us from trying.
Naturally, a few beers later, the conversation was suitably free-flowing. Topics ranged from beers and festivals to fans and fandom via games such as The Last of Us, films and misplaced childhood treasures, toys and memories. Issues of age, gender, and political correctness also managed to mentioned, possibly culminating in the conclusion that Brothers Who Like Ponies was a Blaxploitation film waiting to be made.
Luckily, the drinks and conversation flowed ever onwards and much was forgotten - unless someone wrote it up in a fanzine. I left somewhat early, happy, and buzzing. I felt secure in the knowledge that we had maintained the old tradition - as per ancient charter - of talking toot at a birthday celebration.
“The end of the beginning of the end - at least for now…”
In mid-May, I received two weeks notice that my three month rolling contract was to be terminated after only a month and a half. This was due to a senior management decision regarding agency staff. A week later, I was transferred to another section, with my contract extended by three months. So it seemed oddly appropriate that I was told just three days before this contract expired that it was being extended for another two months. Given rumours that the head of the organisation wanted to be rid of all agency staff at all grades before the end of the year, I could only hope that senior management did not simply decide a week later that my contract had been terminated the week before…
“Every one against us, with no-one to trust…”
Meanwhile, in a universe at least superficially not entirely unlike our own, Kevin’s G.U.R.P.S™ story sent our team to Belarus. The mission was somewhat complicated by the fallout from our pervious mission, and the dramatic schisms that had fractured not only the organisations that we worked for, but our trust in those who handled our missions.
The story began with us meeting a Unified Intelligence Taskforce (UNIT) agent known as The Doctor, who set us on the trail of a deep-cover agent who had apparently been captured by a local militia leader, who was demanding a ransom. We found the wreck of the aircraft which had been carrying the agent, and a couple of survivors. One turned out to be an injured member of the militia group we were looking for - who we then learned were an order of Holy Warriors, fighting vampires, demons, Mythos cultists and such like. As a couple of our characters were of a similar persuasion, this made matters a bit easier, and we agreed to retrieve an artefact from a local Mythos cult, as proof of our intent.
What looked like a straight-forward dungeon-bash soon turned out to be far more interesting, thanks to some devious planning by Kevin. Luckily, we had armed ourselves thoroughly, and by the end of the evening we had completed part one of Dr Who and the Eunuchs of Shub-Niggurath without any of our characters being killed, or the Crawling Chaos making manifest as Nyaruko-San. What awaited us in part two remained to be seen, but it was bound to be better than some recent Dr Who episodes…
“Memento Mori…”
As July segued into August, the world of entertainment suffered a number of losses. Kenny Ireland, the actor best known for his role in Benidorm, bowed out. Mike Smith, the popular DJ and broadcaster, made his final sign-off. Veteran actor JJ Murphy, recently cast in A Game of Thrones as Ser Denys Mallister, passed onward. Shortly afterwards, the greatly loved actor, comedian, and gamer Robin Williams killed himself, during a bout of severe depression. Barely a day later, highly regarded veteran actress Lauren Bacall died. Then, as the month drew to a close, the veteran actor and director Sir Richard Attenborough passed onwards, amid many plaudits. Soon after, veteran actor Bill Kerr, best known for his work with Tony Hancock, went to join his comrades. Rest in Peace…