Thursday, March 29, 2007

Schizophrenic Wildebeest

The following are questions I feel the need to ask, but have no desire to know the answers to. Indulge me.

1. Do the Americans really have a cricket team or is this a ludicrous Wikipedia hoax?

2. What the hell was Emily Barclay doing in Kidnapped! when Suburban Mayhem was publicised as her debut? Well, what the hell was she doing in Kidnapped! full stop? Along with Paul McGann. And why the hell was I watching it?

3. Would Andrew Symonds let me feel his hair if I asked nicely?

4. If Paul Darrow was a tree, what colour would he be?

5. Did anyone else like the musical episode of Scrubs? Also, does even mentioning it on this website make me love for Torrents obvious, or has it been shown by Channel 7 at 1:30 AM recently?

6. Is Criminal Intent anything like Cracker or am I delusional?

7. Will Jesus forgive me for not updating my blog for so long?

8. X-box: yea or yay? Hahaha, I made a pun!

9. Another "did anyone else like" query: the first Mr Bean film. I thought it was really good, but Atkinson himself thinks it's the biggest turd post-Jurrasic epoch. And now he's gone and made a quirky French sequel. Strange, eh?

10. How would we know if aliens were already abducting our drunks and paranoid schizophrenics?

11. Was I right to point-blank refuse to use the words "What in God's Green Earth..." in a drama script my mate wrote? I mean, honestly, I didn't have a corn cob pipe and a Confederate flag!

12. Is racism cool again? (Little Britain got me confused on this one...)

13. How many girls to fantasize about is too much? Bare min for me at any time is 5. Not counting celebs.

14. The fact that Juan Mann (Whose parents clearly hated him) holding a sign saying "Free hugs" as a vehicle for the biggest pick-pocketing/upskirting scheme ever has become one of the most watched YouTube videos EVER is a sign of the decline or our increasingly weak, spineless society. What's that? That isn't a question? Well, mind telling me why there are so many question marks?? More than any other entry I believe you'll find! QED, Ratzinger.

15. How much would it cost to get Syndey cabbies to recommend this website?

Answers are to be written on the back of a postage stamp and stuck to your forehead.

BLAKES 7: The Crap Episodes - Edition Tricycle

I'm back. And this time it's personal.

(aka. "Assassin" by Rod Beacham)

Who the hell is Rod Beacham? Well, if I was any kind of serious reviewer I would know exactly who he is and be able to tell you. As it is, I just know him as the bloke who wrote this script, and I have to say I find that impressive enough. It's quite a nice little yarn to kill 50 minutes.

The thing that hits you like a speelsnape in the face with this story, though, is the pace. It's not in any way a criticism of the series as a whole, but B7 stories tend to be a bit on the plodding side when it comes to the story. Even stories like the infamous Rumours of Death that start with Our Heroes already in some serious shit, slow down after the crisis is resolved to explain stuff nice and clearly to the audience... frequently in scenes involving RP stage actors wearing funny uniforms exchanging snappy dialogue for five minutes.

But Assassin says "Fuck that". The story opens with Vila hearing the latest message that Orac has picked up from Servalan - "Utilizer to Cancer, five subjects." Instantly, Avon explains what's going down - Cancer is the motherfucking most deadly assassin since Bayban the Butcher karked it. His condescending explanation to Vila - "If you can count..."

In nearly an instant, the gang arrive at the desert planet where the meeting between "Utilizer" and "Cancer" will go down. Avon runs out of nowhere into a bunch of Laurence of Arabia actors, performing his famed "help me, I'm a weak and wearied traveller" performance. Everyone's a critic, though, and they beat the crap out of him for it and take him as a slave. Holy smokes, he's lost his teleport bracelet! And Vila, the gutless bastard, doesn't care, instead retiring to the Scorpio to get pissed. Business as usual.

So, not even 7 minutes in and Avon is stranded as a prisoner about to be sold as a slave on a strange planet (all part of his latest convoluted plan, naturally) and holy shit, IT'S WILLIAM HARTNELL! No, hang on... it's that bloke that looks and talks just like him. I thought they gave him a wig for The Five Doctors but no, apparently Hurdnall just walked around all the time with a genuine First Doctor haircut. Max props to the [late] cool dude. The First Doctor is here undercover as Neebrox, a worn down and forgotten miscreant who will be put to death if he's not sold in the next auction. Avon makes a deal to save him if Neebrox can get his bracelet back. So it all comes down to the auction.

To intrude the flow here a bit, I think this story was influenced by Star Wars a bit. I mean, there's those weird screen-wipes between virtually every scene that Lucas loved, plus the desert planet looks like Tatooine, and all the bubblegum-style action... no? Ah, well, nevermind...

Servalan chats with the haggish ruler of the planet, not supplying much information apart from how awesome they both think slavery is. Note: old women with blue hair and matching eyelashes will be fashionable in the future. Their scenes aren't very important, but check out the bloopers to see how much trouble they went through to actually get them filmed. Meanwhile, Avon presses Neebrox for information, and Neebrox tells him that Servalan's beat him to Cancer, Cancer has pissed off after buying a slave, and he's generally screwed. He also adds to this, inadvertently, that he has absolutely no idea how he could get Avon's bracelet back, let alone a plan. Soz!!!

Anyway, the auction is really weird. Lots of dudes in arab and ancient Mesopotamiam gear on mobile phones falling over each other to buy Avon - the slave master makes no bones in pointing out that Avon could sex his mistresses all frickin' night (much to Paul Darrow's alarm in the commentary). It's this last commentary that gets Servalan interested and - HOLY FRICKIN' FRICK BALLS - her arch-nemesis and secret crush is on the auction smorgasbord! She bids madly, her pale ladylike jowels slavering at the prospect , and soon she has annhilated the meek opposition who have no personal knowledge of Avon's bootilicious factor. At this point, Neebrox jumps onto Servalan, yelling madly that they could be happy together, and the slave master understandibly smacks his bitch ass down, distressing all the children in the audience as the First Doctor sobs pathetically...

Okay, you may have realised I'm getting a bit hyperbolic in my descriptions. Nevertheless, it's pretty cool.

Naturally, Neebrox has nouse about him, and has in fact nicked Avon's bracelet back off the slave master in the confusion! Genious. Avon sends a message to Scorpio and wakes that useless bastard Tarrant up - he's about to vanish when Neebrox reminds him that he promised to rescue him as well. Damn! Avon is trapped now - he never goes against his word (which is why he always avoids giving it, naturally) so calls Dayna down. Much fighting ensues.

Beacham is the first writer to remember in ages that Dayna is obsessed with blowing Servalan's head off, so that's naturally the first thing she does. Well, tries to do. Some blokes or other gets in her way and Servalan comically strolls off the scene, completely unfazed. Sigh. Anyway, fighting eventually un-ensues and we're off the Planet of Slaves. About 15 minutes gone. One Star Wars-style screen-wipe later, we're outside Cancer's ship. Not only is Cancer a cool name for an assassin given the fatal disease, but also provides a decent excuse for a crab fetish, which our friend has exploited to buggery. A spaceship shaped like a giant black crab! Awesome! Can you buy those off the shelf or would it have to be a custom job?

Given the fact that the crab-ship is completely motionless in space exactly where Slave predicted it would be it has to be a trap. Avon decides to walk straight into said trap to see what it is... if you don't like this approach, sorry, because this is Avon's new method of choice for this season. He and Tarrant go in and fall for the old "shop store dummy sitting in pilot chair" trick. But wait! Cancer falls for the old "getting jumped by random Bonnie Langford wannabe" trick! Then Tarrant falls for the old "Be incredibly incompetent in trying to subdue unarmed assassin" trick! And then Avon falls for the "Yell 'I'll cover you!' and then proceed to stand around doing nothing" trick! Ark! Craziness overload! Eventually, however, are heroes are victorious and the mighty Cancer is subdued as if he is their bitch.

The Bonnie Langford wannabe, though, is the crux of the problem... in more ways than one. While Avon is planning to sit around waiting until Servalan makes contact with Cancer's ship, little Piri (for that is her name) is pathetically beating her fists, crying, and wobbling her lips in the most pathetic fashion imaginable. A lot. An awful, awful lot. I have no idea what the actress's name is, but even if I did I probably shouldn't post it her because she is incredibly aggrivatingly annoying and I'm sure the lady in question has been duly reprimanded for her performance plenty of times... not least by Jacqui Pearce on the commentary. This is made all the more sickening by Tarrant's instant and obvious and vomitizing infatuation with the air headed bint. Though there is some humour in Tarrant's oh-so-subtle attempts to get in her pants of +10 Innocence - claiming that Avon isn't the leader and that they're all equal, backpedalling to say he's a moron when Piri says she doesn't like smart people, etc.

But the Problem With Piri, other than the fact that she's a truly awful actress, is the fact that she's also obviously the assassin. The plot twist is really quite obvious even before she instantly gives herself away to Neebrox and he gets bumped off in the next scene and "Cancer" is found wandering free. Avon, however, is completely oblivious, so ends up looking a little slow this episode... but much better than Tarrant. When Soolin points out that Piri is useless, Tarrant instantly claims that Soolin is just jealous of his superior hair-conditioning skills. Soolin laughs in his face before slapping Piri's - "There are two ways to handle a hysterical woman - you didn't really expect me to kiss her, did you?" Meow! Soolin's place as a sassy, kick-ass and hot heroine is well-solidified by this point, which is good because she ends up the star of this episode.

All the usual stuff happens, life-support gets shut down, traps, people skulking in shadows, OMG! Eventually Avon gets captured and Piri unveils herself as the true Cancer... and it's painful. She was OTT before, but know she goes into Smugness Overdrive and nearly chokes on the fucking scenery. When she showcases her insane poisonous crab secret weapon, I adivse you tie your hand to something, otherwise you'll probably punch the TV in hearing her say "I wish I could say it was a painlesss death..." SHUT THE FUCK UP! Servalan also shows up for the finale, to deliver the worst line in the whole thing - "Cancer, you truly are a credit to our sex." Erm, what? The main females we have seen in the series: a freelancing smuggler, a guerilla soldier, a capable warrior and scientific student, a hard-ass gunslinger, and a totalitarian dictator. Personally I thought that the Seven universe seemed to be filled to the brim with equal oppurtunity (when Allan Dire wasn't writing the scripts).

Anyway, where was I? Ack! Poisonous crabs! But not to worry - Soolin works it out, crash-barges into the room and expertly flicks the crab about to kill Avon onto Piri/Cancer's neck. Dear readers, revel in her death as I did. Also note Tarrant shooting the crab afterwards, in a pissweak attempt to look heroic. What a dreary prat.

Assassin is bloody good fun and I'd welcome it to anyone who can stand a bit of Bonnie Langford.

D8. Holy Convolutions, Fat Man!
(aka. "Games" by Bill Lyons)

Another first-time writer. It seems that they were trying to bring in some new blood in this season... ironic, really. But Billy Lyons does a good job in this offering.

The start sets things up in a suitably "WTF?" fasion. A big fat guy named Belkov is playing chess-like games against his computer, that he's named after his favourite B7 ep ("Gambit" of course). When, lo! Some dudes are trying to nick his gear in space! Belkov laughs and switches over to the security cameras for a bit of old-fashioned entertainment. The wannabe-treasure robbers find themselves given guns and having to shoot a mirror image of theirselves - but the mirror images are too fast! Only one dude, who has a beard, gets away...

No, wait, I just looked at the transcript for the episode and it doesn't actually start that way. Damn my memory. Ah well, it's just Avon and co. talking up the latest mineral of choice in Fed-land: Feldon. They're like ultra-powerful crystals, but they tend to blow up heaps and stuff like that. There's loads and loads of techno-babble trying to explain them, but I really can't remember it all. I'm pretty sure the basic idea is just that they absorb energy.

(*reads more of script*), this script is really opening my eyes. The bloke with the beard has a name. A really stupid name. "Academician Gerren". And Avon made a deal with him. Man, did I even watch this episode properly? Sorry, getting off tack here...

(*reads more of script*)

Oh, sorry, that wasn't his name, that was his title. He's a professor. Right.

(*reads more of script*)

Okay, back on familiar ground now. Servalan makes her inevitable appearance as the chief of a group investigating Belkov's joint - he's supposed to be mining those Feldon crystals but... well, just look at the guy. Oh, wait, you can't. Well, anyway he looks massively dodgy. You just take on look at him in a photo and you think: "Yep, that bloke's embezzled us out of a few billion dollars worth of stuff, let's sort him out." Basically, the Federation know he's running some scheme, but have no idea what. Servalan gets to grilling his arse like a particularly fatty piece of steak - and so we see Belkov as the single shiftiest bloke to ever appear on the show, quite a frigging accomplishment, and also sadly obsessed with playing games. These sequences are really well directed, as both Belkov and Servalan play them like an intricate poker game...

Meanwhile, Belkov also finds the time to hail Our Heroes on the Liberator, and generally enter into a Smugness battle with Avon. As cool as the A-man is, he has no chance against his challenger. The Feldon crystals that he hasn't given to the Federation are all stashed on his satellite, The Orbiter (where Gerren tried to bust in), giving it god-like powers to keep the Scorpio from escaping his fat-drenched clutches. Avon swears loudly, but as always he has a plan. And, as also often happens, it involves Tarrant and co. risking their lives massively. He stays up on Scorpio with Soolin (with whom he does seem to have a bit of Cally-licious chemistry I hasten to add...) and brags about his own magnificence in plotting a course where he'll be eclipsed by The Orbiter and Belkov will be none the fucking wiser. Slave is most conspicuously impressed - "You have achieved the orbit with consumnate ease, Master!" Man, ya have to love that guy.

So..... er....

(*reads more of script*)

Oh, yeah. Stuff with Tarrant and Gerren and whatnot. Meh. Oh, right then Servalan starts smashing up Belkov's stuff. And then Gambit fries the guards. Yeah, that's a good bit. And it's here that Belkov proves his bastardly ways - he sets up a deal to get off scott-free from Servalan by delivering Our Heroes to her. Though he wants Orac, because Gambit apparently yearns greatly for a mating partner, or something like that. Servalan likes this deal as much as she likes beige, but Belkov indeed seems to have the upper-hand.

One of the surprising things about this ep, though, is the surprising amount of action for a story so complex. I think it can be put down to the (very) adept direction of Vivienne Cozens, who really does a tremendous job with the action. Which is great, because dull, low-budget action sequences are one of the more embarassing achilles heels of this show. But Tarrant, Dayna, and Gerren all get their chance to blow the crap out of Fed grunts in this story with maximum attitude. Surprisingly, even Vila gets in on the action in this story - blowing away of some random guard in a very callous way for no reason at all. That crazy guy.

Servalan vanishes off to an important mass-slaughter of extras, leaving a gap in Belkov's schedule for him to be captured by Tarrant and co. Haha! A victory for Our Heroes! But, of course, there's the old can't-raise-contact-with-the-ship issue so they trust Belkov. Except Belkov leads them into a trap and escapes right away. SON OF A BITCH!

Avon, meanwhile is trying to use Orac to hack into Gambit. Although Orac disses Gambit straight up as a simple Grade 3 standard issue Federation iMac P.O.S and complete slut, Gambit puts The Rac in his place by refusing him access in a pouty and close-legged fashion. Gambit has been modified heavily by Belkov, to make her considerably more awesome and resistant to male computers, so she sets the terms of the engagement. What follows is complete computorial awesomeness as Orac is forced to play that weird chess-like game with her, and finds himself unable to admit to Avon that he's losing the game.

Side question: has there ever, really, been any show where so much of the entertainment comes from bitchy computers? I mean, Orac has to be one of my favourite characters and definitely has the best comic delivery (sorry Vila!) Probably my favourite exchange from the episode...

AVON: Tell me everything you know about Belkov's One Nine Seven computer.

ORAC: You suggested I spared you the technical details.

AVON: Oh, don't sulk, Orac.

Man, ya gotta just love that little box-guy. Plus Slave, for me at least, has his share of comic value - "You have achieved the orbit with consumnate ease, Master!" Yeah, I quoted that line twice. But it's cool!

Anyway, Avon finally decides to drop his jerk routine and actually deigns to make contact with those poor buggers trapped on the planet - aka his crewmates. He makes contact with Vila, who's in Belkov's office and so lonely he's begun talking to Gambit. Avon isn't surprised at all to hear Tarrant got himself captured, and tells Vila to get off his arse and rescue them, whilst also stealing one of Gambit's circuits and possibly also bringing them a litre of milk while he's down there. Vila comes through admirably (even without the milk) by convincing Gambit that letting him stick his hand into most vulnerable circuitry would be preferrable to having to blow herself up for Belkov's sake, as she has been ordered. And she and Orac are soon fused together, in a truly filthy fashion. The Rac knows that it isn't right... but it feels so good for it to be wrong...

I shouldn't even have to tell you that Gerren gets killed off, in a suitably un-ceremonious manner for his role of "Eighth Wheel of the Week". In fact, he's just walking down some random corridor and an even more random Fed blows him away. He lives long enough for Servalan to threaten to torture him, or actually torture him-BUT WHO CARES?! This ain't a story about the Federation! This is a story about GAMES, played by Avon and some fat bastard! TO THE ORBITER!

Credibility goes a bit out the window here, as the Orbiter sattelite, of course, is protected by games like we saw earlier. The notable problem for me was that they oh-so-conveniently happen to be games that the three crewmembers who go over kick serious arse at. Soolin, the bad-ass gunslinger, of course has no problem shooting her weak-arse mirror copy. A flight simulator? Hey, we happen to have one of the best Federation pilots ever trained right here! A lock on the door? Is there a master theif anywhere in the building? Hello? Oh, right, Vila...Hmm, a logic game involving co-ordinates? Oh, no, if only we had a super computer genius! Wait, hang on... we totally have a super computer genius right here!

But, wait... the logic game is to change the course of the Orbiter to a star's orbit to find the Feldon crystals... but the logical answer is a Black Hole! NOOOO! They've been tricked again by Belkov! Swearing their heads off like sailors who've had anchors fall on their feet endlessly, they return to Scorpio to get away before Servalan Is Pissed. Unfortunately, this crap never ends, because Belkov is friggin mad. Gambit refuses to give him control of his shuttle, so the bastard will get picked up by the Feds, but Gambit agrees to his request to set a course straight for the Black Hole. NO! Gambit, you fool! Apparently his Feld0n Crystals will do something techno-babbly, and it's up to a techno-babble duel between him and Avon.

Eventually, however, Avon wins and the audience has no idea what's going on, except that nobody got those crystals. The massive question mark over just what the hell happens in the last five minutes is basically my only gripe with this very clever and layered storyline, which was definitely slickly produced and entertaining. I mean - were there ever any frigging crystals or was Belkov cooking the books? I have no frigging idea. Oh, and the end seems a bit gratuitous - Vila proudly produces a Feldon necklace he stole from Belkov's office - Yay! A victory at last! But no - Avon smashes the offending item into trillions of pieces and spits in his face that it's nothing but a fake. Why must Avon make us cry so?

D9. NECRORECROROMCOMNICOM... if you know what I mean...

(aka. "Sand" by Tanith Lee)

Allow me to say this: Tanith Lee is awesome. She, of course, wrote Sarcophagus, which is one of my absolute faves and officially considered basically the damn weirdest ep the show ever did. She's back in form here, also sporting some added perks like extra sets and guest casts... and fucking Servalan...although, I have to admit that this is probably the best story to use Servi - and definitely so in this season.

Both Servalan and Our Heroes are headed for some shithole of a planet that shall remain nameles due to the irrelevance of its history, to find out what happened to a scientist bloke named Don Keller, who was in Attack of the Cybermen as some guy, I'm sure. As always, things quickly go wrong...

Servalan is in the presence of the glittery-lame clad Investigator Reeves, who is a gun-toting "take no prisoners" dude who considers himsef the Dirty Harry of the Federation - interestingly, Reeves says this is a waste of time, so it seems that Servalan had the idea of checking up on Keller. And more so, Reeves knows that she isn't Sleer.. having seen her at some official function or other. Incredibly he tries to seduce her alluringly pale and middle-aged ass when armed with this knowledge, but is naturally rebuked in a manner similar to that of the Black Widows mates.

Shortly after landing, there is a massive green-sandslide burying their ship, and some random extra accompanying them gets killed - by sand? All signs point to 'yes', and therefore to 'planet full of evil sand'. What else did you really expect from someone as mad as Lee?

So, Tarrant and Dayna both teleport down, for once oblivious to the fact that The Bitch in White is on the planet, just hoping for a standard and straight forward rescue-the-scientist mission. Ha! Do they even watch this frickin' show? They soon have a run in with Reeves and Dayna's arm gets grazed by a pesky near-miss. Naturally she still feels up to turning the Investigator's "puny men" into her personal dental floss, but Tarrant, with his usual tact, teleports her back up to the ship against her will.

Avon is exasperated at Tarrant's assholedom; I mean, obviously he's used to it by now, but it doesn't make things easier. He tries and send Dayna back down so she can exercise her brilliant ass-kicking powers (like the last episode) but Slave seems to have been on the piss, and can't even fly in a straight line. Naturally he turns his attention to Orac and - JESUS CHRIST! Orac's professing his undying love for Avon! Switch it off! SWITCH IT OFF! (This, needless to say, is not only the best part of this episode, but single greatest B7 moment ever. It just made me laugh my arse off) Is Orac suffering from the most severe rebound trauma ever after Gambit vanished into narratorial aether? Probably. But could something more sinister be going on as well? Yeah. Could it have something to do with the glowing green sand slowly cascading off of Dayna's perfect, nubile, alluring young frame? Mmm, nubile...

Vivienne Cozens again directs but... well, I'm going to have to guess that this story had a waaay lower budget than Games did. The sets are a little on the cheap side and also quite small, which makes the next bit really unimpressive. Reeves and Tarrant have a gunfight... kinda... the sticking point being that their first shots are fired when they're about two feet apart. And they both miss. And then run away from one another. It gave me a Naked Gun flashback when watching it, honestly. To give Ms Cozens her rightful credit, she does her darndest to make this look somewhat cool - lightning is flashing from every direction to make this confrontation the thing of legend rather than farce. Failing miserably but, hey, at least she tried. (Unlike Peter Moffat)

This exhilirating game of cat and mouse between Tazza and Reeves comes to an end as Reeves announces that he doesn't want to hurt Tarrant, and asks him to take him to see Keller? Guh? But before there's any chance of sissified placation Reeves seems to phase out, and Tarrant heroically shoots his arse down whilst he's unable to fight back. Huzzah! Servalan rocks up and informs Tarrant that he's a moron. "Well... everyone's entitled to one... really big mistake". Credit is due to Stephen Pacey... he plays the Ultimate Prat remarkably well...

Servalan and Tarrant make their way into Keller's base - but nearly straight away they find themselves locked in by sand! This, they figure, is starting to get weird. After a cursory look around the base they find Keller's corpse - though it takes Tarrant a while to twig that it's a dead body. Servalan is, unusually, very distraught and it's up to the world's biggest n00b to comfort here. Yes, you see where this is going - the most horrifying possibility imaginable... SERVALAN/TARRANT SLASH!

Sorry if I'm creating a broken-record style atmos here, but Tanith Lee rocks. The whole idea sounds so completely crap you wouldn't even consider it if someone asked if you'd want to see a Servi-Tarrant romantic story on The Planet of Evil Sand. But, hey, it works: seeing the two awkwardly share the overly-romantic meal sent up by the food gen thing, hearing Servi recount the story of how she met and fell in love with Don Keller and subsequently lost all of her humanity... it works, damnit!

The rest of the crew get their fair share of the script as well, in spite of being assigned to staying-on-the-ship duty, which is usually a place for dramatis non grata in this show.

Tuesday, March 27, 2007


Daylight savings... is over. And I didn't even know we were in it. This sucks for several reasons.

Firstly: sun in the morning. Erm, so what? What will I do with that? I'm in bed in the frigging morning.

Secondly: having to adjust to times being retarded. It never works. Ever. The technique I always try is to go to sleep at the same time you always do, by the actual clock. And then, ideally, your internal clock should sleep for the right number of hours and wake up at the new 7:30 so you can get to TAFE on time. (To use a purely hypothetical example)

But this technique, though it's less crap than the other choices, doesn't work. I wake up at 7:30, as I always do. BUT THE ACTUAL 7:30!!!

The most annoying thing is that all the problems related to Daylight Savings are caused by the sheer irrationality of our behaviour. Spend half the year on one clock, and then switch for sketchily defined reasons. Why? Why couldn't the clocks just be put forward once and leave it at that?

Oh, by all means give me the lame-ass reasons related to people living in the country. You know, getting up too early to milk the cows in the country. The response is obvious: why cater to morons in the country? Yes, I live in the country, but I'm not a moron. Because I know that cows don't have clocks, so you can just milk them at the usual time and ignore the fucking clock. WOW! IS THAT RADICAL THINKING OR WHAT?!?

Face it - we don't do anything with that light in the morning: it's nothing but squandered and wasted. Let's put the clocks back and keep them there. You know it makes sense. I'm Sam Kekovic Jared Hansen.

Friday, March 23, 2007

STUTTER: A Ben Chatham Adventure

The second and far more unnecessarily epic of my Ben Chatham adventures to be written on OG when I finished my programming work waaay too early. Tom Wallace is way out of character, mostly to make him a polar opposite to Ben, but I still think it's pretty good. Oh, and I was pleased to note that the Torchwood mob don't seem to out of whack, either, considering that I hadn't watched a single episode of the show and knew bugger all about it. (I surfed a thread for a couple of minutes to work out the character's names, that's how "In the know" I was...)

And now the funnest part of the blogging game - to see if I can somehow post it without getting some infuriating and completely mysterious errors that fuck it up irrevocably like my last post. Haha.


by Jared Hansen

Ben Chatham wakes up to find himself being brutally sodomized by a Vogon. Unpleasant as this may be in itself, it is also disconcerting in that this is the exact way that Ben Chatham woke up yesterday! However, in between the searing pain and burning humiliation, he realizes some small differences - the Vogon is purple instead of green, and now speaks with the voice of Michael Keating instead of the bloke who played Chris Finch in The Office

The door is then broken down by Ben's friend, Spartha Jones, who notes that the Vogon is a dim-witted male and clearly doesn't know the first thing about bodily violation, so she bites its head off and shows his decapitated corpse how it's done - using her baseball bat. Through even worse pain, Ben reflects that this would have been exactly the same as what happened yesterday if it was Jack with a laser gun.

After sitting on a solid block of ice for two hours (whilst checking his message bank and raiding his bottle-bank) Ben puts on his most inappropriately expensive clothes and decides to visit his friends in Torchwood - seeing as his phone batteries have died.

When Ben enters Torchwood he finds everyone inexplicably having sex, including the character who got killed off in the first episode. Again, he realises he's been through this before - although the first time round he had one of those mysterious black-outs that are no doubt due to his time-travelling experiences in someway and had no idea what happened next.

"Jack!" he says to his friend as he is in the process of roughly taking Sato from behind "Something happened this morning that happened yesterday morning as well?"

"You woke up and nobody liked you? Hey-OHHH! High-five me, Benny-boy."

Ben did so and, due to the state of Jack's hand, immediately regretted it.

"So what's the problem, buddy?" asked Jack

"I was sodomised by a chav-like alien and a certain miss Spartha Jones. Just like I was yesterday. Sodomy originated as a punishment device used to supress Chavdom and it should damn well stay that way! Did we vote in Thatcher for nothing?"

"Oh, yeah, I told Spartha what a good time I had yesterday and recommended it to her myself. Or something."

"What? How do you know Spartha?"

"I dunno. I mean, I can't remember. Listen, having a good time here. Catch me in... 3 hours?"

"Try to make it 2!" said Sato breathlessly "This de-frag will be done by then and I've got some work to catch up on."


In two hours time the staff of Torchwood decide to stop acting like nymphomaniac rabbits and reclaim their clothes and dignity and personalities. And Suzie turns dead again. Ben is puzzled by the shift of continuity, but again puts it down to something or other to do with his time-travelling and not at all related to his daily alcohol intake of 2.5 mega-litres. Jack, after checking Torchwood files, sees that Spartha Jones is never mentioned and is genuinely puzzles. He assures Ben that he knows her somehow, and that the particular violation he was subjected to this morning was all above-board. Ben is concerned.

Sato, stunningly, breaks the silence by revealing her boyfriend died recently, brutally murdered by cultists. She thinks the best way to alleviate the pain is by taking off Ben's shirt and caressing his chest. Ben is startled - this is something that's already happened to him. Sato, however, snaps out of it, and screams out that she has no dead boyfriend, before running off. Ben chases after her and is absolutely horrified when he catches up to her and finds that she has not been savagely murdered - now he will have to have a normal interaction with a woman. He notes that this, unlike all other events so far in the day, will be a genuine first.

Sato tells Ben that she felt her mind briefly taken over, and that there is obviously someone or something interfering with the minds of people in London. Or Cardiff or Cambridge or wherever the hell this story is set. Ben shouts out in excitement that he knew there had to be something interfering with his mind - otherwise why would people constantly be offended at things he swore he never did, such as making bad toasts at parties and urinating in public? Sato gives a nervous smile and humours him.

Using her knowledge of Torchwood files, Sato drives Ben to The Rusty Screwdriver, a pub with mysterious origins. She says this is the place where they are most likely to meet The Newcomer - a man with no records prior to the year 2005, who seems to have been ignored by history, yet has made a major splash in the world of Amateur Pool Tournaments. She reasons that this man is the most likely man to help them, as he has been noted for a bizarre, nay freak, knack for guessing the locations of alien insurgence on Earth - there are rumours that he is a UNIT plant, or a time-traveller himself, a new identity of fugitive Gustave Lytton, or even a companion of The Enemy.

Ben stops staring at her breasts and asks if she could repeat that. His testicles almost instantly regret his mouth's life decisions.

The Newcomer then rolls up - a man who Sato finds oddly handsome wearing slightly shabby clothes. With no preamble he says that he's Tom Wallace and he knows who they both are. He also says that Ben has been Marked, and is in danger of passing out of this world. He doesn't even look up at them while saying this, being too engrossed in his crossword.

Ben scoffs, demanding to know how a man so clearly uneducated to wear non-designer clothing can be a hero. He states that the man plays pool in rough pubs and no doubt wears check shirts, has tatoos and no doubt listens to the likes of Bruce Springsteen or the Clash. He then goes on to add that he is not at all snobbish - indeed he cannot abide snobbery - the unjustified putting on of airs by those people who are no better than anyone else. It simply makes life more difficult for those of us who are.

Wallace consider this carefully before breaking one of Ben's arms and writing "HABERDASHER" in 22-down.

"You can try and save your life one-handed, mate, I think that's how you've made your way through most of it." Sato laughs merrily while Ben breaks down in tears "Yeah, anyway, darling," Tom continues "You're the only one in danger. The Masonite has you."

"Masonite? Doesn't sound very scary." says Sato

"Well, not really, no. It's a simplistic silicon-based lifeform - if you wanted to be polite you'd call it Callijuromeron Jassezix Masonite from the planet Cygnus Alpha, but there's no need for that. Their homeplanet is run as a totalitarian regime - so the most useful commodity for 'em is entertainment. That's where you come in, pretty boy."

Ben is offended. "I am in no way an entertainer!"

"No argument here!" laughs Tom "But you are to somebody, clearly. The Masonite is a scouting off-shoot of the Suppressive Lattice - limited imagination. It needs multiple readings to assess the entertainment value of a subject - so it repeatedly puts them through similar procedures as have occurred to them in life, a bit of copy and paste. Mind control is needed to achieve this and, due to the limited imagination, only borderline sensible responses can be given when victims are questioned. You may have noticed that earlier."

"So that's why we were all under mind control!" says Sato "We were reliving that strange phase where there was a break out of alien hallucinogens and pheromones."

"Oh, sounds like a shame to miss it."

"It was disgusting. Only a Chav could find it pleasurable."

"Mate, you don't watch your mouth and the Masonite's the least of your bleeding worries. Anyway, Ben, it's in your head, and that's the only way you can fight it."


"Just concentrate. You can sense it, can't you?"

Ben explains that he doesn't. As he is about to take another swig of his 100%-proof Absinthe-Max, Wallace snatches the glass out of his hands.

"Aha! There's the problem. If you keep drinking that stuff you won't be able to feel your head, let alone anything inside it."

Ben is offended at the suggestion that alcohol is somehow affecting his mental powers. Tom, to test this, asks him what 8-across, is, being a 5-letter word for "A seat". Ben, after two minutes of pulling his hair out, can't answer. Tom gives him the known letters "C","A" and "R". Ben thinks about this for a further ten minutes, becoming more and more frustrated. Tom then points out that he's had the completed cross-word held out in front of him for the past twelve minutes. After another minute's though, Ben tells him that the answer is "CHAIR". Sato and Tom agree that he needs to go in the Sycorax-brand DRUNK TANK 3000 that Torchwood salvaged to sober himself up.

Unfortunately for Ben, it turns out the Sycoraxic method of sobering people up involves lots of automatons beating the living crap out of you. But, as Owen points out, it did wonders for his sex addiction, so the process must have some merits. Sato tentatively asks Tom about whether he'd be interested in maybe - but Tom cuts in, apologetically, saying she really isn't his type and he wouldn't want to see her get hurt - though he compensates by giving her the number of a mate of his who's nice but lonely. Sato gives him a happy farewell, quietly delighted at his unusual charm and tact.

* * *

After nineteen hours and thousands of robotic smackdowns, Ben has been completely detoxed - the Sycoraxic way. And he suddenly realises that he can feel something weird in his mind - a strange, hot sensation, in a tiny area behind his eyeballs. For a brief moment he wonders if this is what being sober feels like, but he reasons this is unlikely. He then concentrates on the burning sensation, and begins to feel a room growing around him... but it slips away. He tries again... and it fails. And again. And again. And again. And then a Sycoraxic robot comes in an breaks his ribs.

Ben shouts out indignantly that he is completely sober, and just needs some way to mentally hone himself to give the Masonite a damn good seeing-to. A forlorn Ianto opens the door and throws Ben his unused copy of "MENTAL DEFENSE FOR BEGINNERS". Ben struggles his way through, especially since Ianto clearly forgot to switch the device off and an android keeps coming in to beat the crap out of him. Eventually, Ben figures out how to follow the link and arrives in a spaceship... containing a rather dull-looking rock. This is, he reasons using his formidable deductive powers, the Masonite.

Ben demands to know how the Masonite found him two days ago. The Masonite laughs unbelievably, and asks if that's what Ben believes. He then reveals that he has, in fact, been controlling Ben for three years. Ben is stunned, but the Masonite asks him to think back. Haven't most of his experiences been terribly clich├ęd and repetitious? Hasn't his personal history been in a flux? Doesn't his sexuality change every Bank holiday? Hasn't he noticed the continuity errors and generally contrived situations that he's found himself in? Wasn't he at least curious about the random and obscene acts of violence he has personally be subjected to? Ben notes that this is true...

The Masonite mourns, however, that Ben seems to polarise the Mass Consciousness of the home planet exactly - at the present stage the Lattice bans the use of Chatham for entertainment purposes, as they believe that he will incite a civil war among the Consciousness and limit the expansion of the race. In spite of this, the Masonite has remained obsessive over Ben, as his Entertainment Value seems greater than any other specimen he has encountered. The Masonite postulates that now Ben has, foolishly, deigned to materialise aboard his ship, he can dissect him cell-by-cell and matter-transfer him to a lab that could re-constitute him in a similar, but more charismatic way...

Ben then demands to be set free. The Masonite informs him that if he had eyes right now, he'd be rolling them. He then cranks out his Cell Separation Dooberwhacky, which begins tearing apart Ben's pants, which were made entirely from the leather bindings used for Tolstoy First Editions.

As cowardly as ever, Ben protests, and says that he can offer the Masonite someone more entertaining - a man who can fight, tell jokes, has attitude, is fuelled by conflict, is found attractive by women and yet is a mysterious loner. This man is Tom Wallace.

The Masonite scoffs. He has heard the name but believes it to be a myth, or some form of joint-hallucination suffered by humans - when interfacing with human minds he can't contact any by the name of Tom Wallace that match the description he has heard. Ben protests that Wallace exists, and that he can establish a link with him. The Masonite stops tearing apart Ben's clothing, leaving his dodo skin underwear intact. He asks Ben to prove it.

Ben calls director assist, and gets a young, bright-sounding cockney man who is more than happy to give him the number for The Rusty Screwdriver. He does, and the phone is answered by a young, bright-sounding cockney man. Ben asks to speak to "his old mucker" Tom Wallace. The nice cockney man asks him to hold and there is silence... until a gut-rending noise fills the air. The Masonite begins to crack and crumble - the link with Ben is broken and he is sent hurtling back to Earth...

And wakes up in time for a Sycorax robot to kick him in the face.

* * *

The Doctor hung up the TARDIS phone.

"Welll, a little convoluted even by my own standards, hijacking a hotline and a pub's phone system just to trap one midget space-rock but I have to admit it's a dull Tuesday evening and I haven't really got anything better to do. So thanks, Tom. Jolly good wheeze and all that."

"It's dead then?" asked Tom Wallace

"It ceased to exist. The Masonite is one of thousands - they're all machines, if even that. Template personality, template intelligence, template everything. Really boring to get stuck with in an elevator I can tell you that right now. And it wasn't murder, even if it was alive - it only would have called if it wanted you dead. Besides, considering what it did to so many lives..."

"You trying to justify yourself again?" asked Tom with a smirk.

"Yeah, I know. Terrible habit of mine, isn't it? You going to see Ben again?"

"Can't seem to stop running into the prat."

"Well, if you do then there's a message I'd like you to pass on... tell him... well, how can I put this?" the Doctor paused thoughtfully "Tell him that I don't know how he got the number for the TARDIS phone, but if he ever calls me again asking for a lift to the bottle-shop I'll be doing some serious thinking about my pacifist philosophies!"

* * *

When Ben managed to crawl out of the Sycorax DRUNK TANK 3000, he noted a complete absence of people singing "For he's a jolly good fellow." For some reason this made him sad... he seemed to enjoy undeserved credit more than he ever realised...

He made his way into the Torchwood meeting room. Jack wondered aloud why the hell he was still here. Being sad and lonely and feeling slightly heterosexual Ben asks Sato whether she's shag him in exchange for some David Bowie mp3s as she "touched my shirt" earlier. Sato takes this opportunity to test the newly-salvaged Goodionan Obscenely-Large-Boxing-Glove-on-a-Spring and breaks his jaw. Owen tells him to sod off and forcefully throws him out of the building.

Ben cries, and decides to go home and get drunk in his underwear while watching re-runs of "Time Team"

On the way he is run over by a yellow morris minor.

Normal Transmission Resuming Shortly... in the Meantime Enjoy some V!

Yes. It's true. I haven't posted in 8 long years. Eight years in which you have been forsaken. Eight long years of an oppressive regime. But I vow to fight these injustices until my last dying breath. Or possibly even the breath after that.

In the meantime, however, this is a bit of a pseudo-entry... that is, I have just read some stuff that I find funny and have decided to post it here. Yeah, that old schtick.

Once again, this mirth ensues from IMDb, best know as the site where you get conversations like this:

(after someone asked about how The Man Who Sued God ended)

Fellow # 1: Steve said that he can't sue a God that led him to the woman he loves (the red head) by sinking his boat (that lead to the prosecution and the woman) so he withdraw his case and when he did... SHAZAM!!!

An austrelian parrot smashed into the glass vitrage (sp) window, flapped around the courtroom and landed on the judges "desk" as if speaking into the microphone to deliver god's statment
Priest1: "It's a miracle!"
Priest2: "It's an angel!"
Jerry the lawyer: "IT'S A FU*KING COCKADOO!!!"

Fellow #2: ITS A "COCKATOO" D*CK!

Fellow #1: That was fucking UNCALLED FOR!
In my country it's called a Cacadoo so excuse me for not interperting it correctly and by the book and being so vein to think that it's actually called a cockadoo and not a cockatoo. I'm sure they would crucify me in Austrelia for saying "Cockadoo", won't they?

Fellow #2:

Ah, sweet times. But it is not the heady intellectual sparrings of so many monkeys on so many typewriters that I wish to discuss. Instead, it is the handy service of movie FAQs on the IMDb site. Naturally, like everything else on the site, they are done by readers and visitors to the site. Now, a cynical person might suggest that the result would be lots of completely idiotic yet very smug people imparting knowledge they believe isn't apparent, but is in fact bleedingly obvious when watching the film. Such cynical people deserve credit for their excellent foresight.

V For Vendetta is an infamously complicated and nuanced film by Messrs Wachowski, and below you can see my own reactions to questions that are apparently "Frequently asked".

Who is the guy getting hanged in the beginning?

Gee, I can understand the confusion here. Natalie Portman's voice is pretty soft when she says the guys name in the opening voice over.

Is V Guy Fawkes?

Yep. He resurfaced after spending 500 years recovering from being hanged and having his body torn apart ritualistically. It was pretty rough.

What does Bollocks mean?

You see this webpage your own right now? Textbook example.

What's the movie V and Evey watch and what year was it made?

Ah, once again catering to those in the audience who don't listen to a thing the characters say. Why do these people even have to watch a movie when they can just read the Wikipedia synopsis afterwards?

What is the saying Vi Veri Veniversum Vivus Vici on the mirror Evey is cleaning?

I'm certain most people who ask that question wouldn't phrase it exactly like that. And judging by the intended audience of the page, I think most people reading wouldn't have even noticed that V owned a mirror.

Why do V and Gordon both make the same breakfasts, say similiar phrases and have secret rooms? Are they related or something?

This is great logic: family relations can be traced through behaviour. I abuse people sarcastically, watch porn, and read blogs. Yes, I am one of the many cousins of Randall Graves from Clerks.

Was V like a superhero with super powers?

IMDb says: No. The injections they gave him at Larkhill had a side effect which gave him improved reflexes and agility and probably healing powers since he didn't burn to a crisp in the fire at Larkhill.

Jared says: Fucking obviously yes he is.

Your move, IMDb.

Was V Evey's father?

Yeah. That's why they wanted to sex one another. Think, people!

What is the building destroyed at the end?

A pub on the corner of Elephant and Castle named the Whiggershire Thrush. V hated it profuself because they once told him they were out of salt 'n vinegar pork scratchings when he knew for a fact they had a truckload delivered that day. See, he talked a good anarchy revolt, but it was really about petty personal vendettas.

In all honesty, though, if this is a frequently asked question there must be a hell of a lot of people just walking into rooms playing the DVD of V For Vendetta five minutes before the ending...

Is V gay?

Considering he survived a massive chemical fire with full-body burns, I think he mightn't have any genitals left. That would make him asexual, doncha think?

At any rate I'm glad this was asked. Certainly the most important question surrounding V's identity. Well, except maybe for...

Is V a woman?

Yeah. She's played by the fine Australian actress Hugella Weaving.

Is this movie just liberal propoganda to disparage President Bush?

If I say 'yes' will you move on and get a life?

Why wasn't Alan Moore credited as the original author?

This is the smugness I was talking about. Anyone who knows who Alan Moore is, knows exactly why he wasn't credited. YOU DON'T KNOW ANYTHING SPECIAL!!!

Is Gordon gay?

No. I can honestly say that there's nothing unusual about full-blooded heterosexuals having hidden rooms in their basement covered in gay BDSM pr0n.

And besides, he's played by Stephen "Butch" Fry, for crying out loud!

Of course, all of these questions pale into insignificance next to the raison d`etre, the single most incisive and profound question asked of any film... (This is a cue to say I'll riff on this one for a while because it made me laugh)

What were the fingermen trying to do to Evey in the beginning?

"Finger" her, perhaps?

There are two major explanations for this subtle interplay. After all, the only slim hint we're given is the line: "If yours isn't the sorriest arse in London tomorrow morning - it'll definitely be the sorest!"

1. They wanted to invite her over for tea and raspberry scones, in theory, but were actually intending to show her endless slides of their holiday shots from Bermuda. She would both have been sorry for attending the whole dismal affair, and her arse would doubtless be sore after sitting in an unergonomic chair for three hours straight.

2. Having known of Evey previously, they wanted to take advantage of her pet full-size donkey, Ian, seeing as they needed to move to a flat in Chelsea, yet their car was currently in the garage the next day. Obviously the experience would be very harrowing for the 'ass' and leave it quite sore.

But, hang on, it seems a new theory has arrived, courtesy of the IMDb Think Tanks, churning out Idea Showers...

They were going to rape her until V showed up.

My word! Some people can read a sexual connotation into anything!

What I like is the inadvertent suggestion in the answer that they specifically planned to rape her until the time whereupon a masked homicidal maniac descended from the rooftops.

"Righto, mate, we should get some serious leg-over right now! We've got at least half an hour until the shadowy terrorist mastermind rocks up!"

(*V arrives*)

"Awww, fuck it, he's EARLY!"

Wednesday, March 14, 2007

ME: Not Eric Saward

Yes, obviously you could get the two of us confused due to my condescending and pompous nature, my love of fanwank, and the fact I have written Attack of the Cybermen without getting credited for it on TV. But yet, we are two completely separate people who have never met. Allow me to prove it:

Eric Saward was with the Doctor Who production team for 5 years. When he left he slagged off everyone else involved in it.

Whereas I, having been a regular member of the Outpost Gallifrey forums for, hmmm, three or four years have recently left. Those of you with knowledge of the forums will know that there is no option to disable an account - I did so by changing my password and entering a string of random unintelligible numbers, hence making it impossible for myself to access the site ever again. Why? It felt right at the time, and still does for that matter. But aside the point, allow me to prove the complete dissimilarity between myself and Saward: I have no ill-will against Outpost Gallifrey.
Yes, it may be populated by squueers and pollsters and people who don't read threads and people who've never heard of punctuation for a bulk part.... it gets on my nerves but the same can be said of any other internet community (More's the pity). And I can bear the somewhat irritating hemispherical division of the community into two groups, one who praise the new series endlessly no matter what absurd shite they decide to put on a plate and ask us to swallow one week (the ringleader of whom is doubtless Jon Blum - don't worry, Jonny-boy, RTD will have to commission you soon!) and the other who voraciously rip apart absolutely every second of celluloid that has RTD's name on it. And I can even put up with the creaking, rattling dinosaurs of the forum who are still in the deluded state that trashing JNT endlessly is 'cool' and that every thread could do with a reference to how much you like Pertwee (Hullo, Mr Levine!)

So why am I leaving? (Or have left, rather...) It's nothing to do with the bad stuff. Just what seems to be absence of the good stuff. There seems to be a tim, in my memory where you'd look through for a while, find 4-5 crap threads, and then a golden one that would have you pissing yourself laughing, thinking profoundly, or debating furiously (and often rewardingly). Recently, it seemed that all I could find was crap threads. Specifically 4-5 crap threads, and then maybe a thread that's already been done to death, then a n00b thread, then 4-5 crap threads.

To be honest I like to think that it is not a matter of the community having recently gone to pot (although there isn't much to suggest otherwise) but simply that I've been on OG for so long that it all seems old and that there's nothing new under the sun. And also the obvious fact that pretty much every friend I've made on the site has been banned or stopped showing up.

But, there is another way in which I am similar to Eric Saward: his work ethic. Yes, this blog has been deader than a Saturday night in the Vatican for a couple of weeks. And I'm sorry, I had stuff to do and whatnottohottotrot, but I'll probably be getting back into it soon, so quit chomping on those bits before you chew through them. Besides, I hasten to add that it could be a lot worse.

In the meantime, to entertain yourself I recommend the mighty, where some kind soul has posted all of the Olden Days and Bargearse.

"One day I shall perfect these platform shoes!", "You dirty pole-puncher!", "Apparently we're going to somewhere called 'The Rab'", "Guards, scuffle awkwardly with that man!". Look them up to see just why these phrases are humourous.

Sunday, March 4, 2007

PISS-TAKING: Sometimes It's Too Easy...

Okay, okay. As anyone reading this blog would have worked out, I am a Liberal politically speaking. That is, a literal liberal, strongly believing in the rights and freedoms rather than the Australian political definition of Liberal, which is someone with loads of cash who thinks foreigners should be locked up as soon as they come here. And I feel honour-bound to point this out to make it clear that I am not saying what I'm about to say out of bias. Unlike those biased scum at Wikipedia!

Honestly, every time you look something up in the Wik, the disgusting political bais just flows over you like honey. As in, metaphorically, someone is pouring honey onto your naked body. And that's something we can all relate to, right?

For example:

*Wikipedia omits any acknowledgment of Benjamin Franklin's praise of Pilgrim's Progress in his autobiography.

*When I was a child, my mother lectured me on the evils of "gossip." She held a feather pillow and said, "If I tear this open, the feathers will fly to the four winds, and I could never get them back in the pillow. That's how it is when you spread mean things about people."

*Jimmy Wales, founder of Wikipedia, admitted the following understated bias in an interview in 2006:
We all hate Jesus and America.

*The Wikipedia entry for the Piltdown Man omits many key facts, such as how it was taught in schools for an entire generation and how the dating methodology used by evolutionists is fraudulent. Fucking evolutionists.

Hang on, this doesn't make any sense. Oh, right, these aren't my reasons for hating wikipedia, they're those of CONSERVAPEDIA! Yes! Finally there's an encyclopedia strictly for the use of Conservatives! And you can imagine how wonderfully informative and knowledge-crammed it will be, right gang?

To be honest, I think these guys have just gone and made it too easy for me to take the piss out of them. Say, you want to look up a notable entry to see what info they have on it so far, who would you pick? Kublai Khan? Lord Nelson? Nigella Jay Verkoff? Ben Chatham? Well, sure they're all big-ass peeps, but I thought the logical first-stop for a big shue had to be the incumbent President of the United States of America. Ten seconds later:

Is the president of the United States of America. Republican . Was awared the office of President by a narrow decision of the U.S. Supreme court in 2000 in a disputed election race against Democratic candidate Al Gore. In 2004, George W. Bush won reelection by a popular margin of millions of votes, including a landslide victory in the State of Florida where the outcome had been so close in 2000. Democratic candidate John Kerry quickly conceded defeat the day after the election.

For many months after John Kerry conceded the outcome of the 2004 election to George W. Bush, some liberals continued to claim that the election had somehow been stolen by voter fraud. When Al Gore went on a speaking tour in 2006 to promote government controls over industry in the name of global warming, many liberal fans greeted him with the belief that he had actually won the election in 2000.

There you go, flat listless writing, poor editing and wonderfully blunt and to-the-point sentences that work like blows to the head in terms of getting the message across. And I just love the derisive insults towards those dirty liberals at the end. After all, they don't belong here on conservapedia.

But that's only the start. The talk page is way better:

Somebody deleted the body of this page and substituted a photo-- can anybody verify that this photo actually is President Bush...I believe the photo is one of Prince Henry, who has recently taken up active duty in Iraq for the UK

Yeah, I can see how you could confuse the two. Also, a discerning and highly dedicated conservapedian speaks up:

This article is useless. It is a stub, which is fine, except that this is GWB, not some arcane entry. This is made more eggregious since this page has undergone many edits, and nobody has decided to actually make it a full article, just back and forth fluff. I admit that I don't particularly want to put the work in, because I don't care about this about information that would be useful, that you don't hear about in the liberal media...Who were his good conservative judicial appointments?

Hey, pal, isn't ANY conservative appointment a good one? Am I right or am I right? No, I'm TOTALLY right, cos we're here on CONSERVAPEDIA.

Hey, but why be so parochial, what do the Conservapedians think of... Australia?

Australia is part of Oceania, and a largely secular nation.

'Largely secular'? That's always a statement that sends the warning bells off for someone who knows fuck all about my country...

The Australian aborigines (natives) exist to this day on the island, having their own culture that only began to change with immigration by Europeans in the past 200 years. The aborigines foraged (searched) for food and did not farm. Australians did not have agriculture until the Europeans arrived. (citation needed)

Gotta love that in-built thesaurus. Shows how much respect they have for their readerships' intelligence.

Okay, now, hard one... Sri Lanka!

Sri Lanka is the pear-shaped island (hehe, pears-shaped!) off of the southern coast of India, which obtained its independence in the 1970s. Sri Lanka has a Buddhist majority, and the Tamils are in a Hindu minority and have been fighting for their own independence

Man, I love these. It's taking me back to the days when I had to do geography projects in primary school...

What do they have to say about the noble and oldest sport of gentlemen... cricket!

There is no page titled "cricket". You can create this page .

For more information about searching Conservapedia, see Searching Conservapedia .

Showing below 0 results starting with #1.

Hmmm. No, that doesn't sound right to me. But, hey, don't listen to me. Listen to these guys. They really know what's going on here.

Friday, March 2, 2007

If *I* Had Written B7: GOLD...

No Attack update this week... but something altogether different after seeing the B7 story Gold and being monumentally pissed off at the ending. Basically, Avon acts completely idiotic and trusting, falling hook-line-and-sinker for an obvious shady deal of Servalan's.

So, what would the story be like if I, and not Colin Davis, had penned it? Mostly it probably would have been the same as the lead-up to this point was quite decent... but the ending would be radically different. And this is the only part I have (and probably will be bothered to) written so far. Since last night when I saw it for the first time. Bear in mind I've just whipped this up quickly, no editing or any jazzy fizzle like that.


(Dayna, Avon and Keiller are all waiting by the large casket of gold in the midst of a barren, desert landscape. A large jeep slowly approaches carrying several hooded figures. The jeep stops, and they unload a large metal box and approach. It becomes clear most of the hooded figures are carrying rifles. They approach to a few metres in front of Avon and co and the leader unceremoniously dumps the metal box. Avon and Dayna slowly draw their guns out of their holsters.)

AVON: There's no need to keep the mask on, Servalan.

(The leader removes the hood and the mask, revealing it is, of course, Servalan. The other figures follow suit, revealing themselves to be a band of mutoids. )

SERVALAN: So, you figured out that much?

KEILLER: (stunned) You didn't tell me about this!

AVON: (Ignoring him) Of course. When Orac told me that my "old friend" here was a former security officer for the President, it seemed all too inevitable.

SERVALAN: There have been plenty of presidents.

AVON: Oh, yes. But I know my own luck far too well to think for a moment it could be anyone but you.

KEILLER: Servalan, I swear I didn't tell him anything! I never-

SERVALAN (furiously) Shut up, Keiller, or I'll give my men the order to blast you away!

(Keiller shuts up. Servalan turns calm again and turns to Avon.)

SERVALAN: We do have to stop meeting like this.

AVON: After today, I rather think that we shall.

(Servalan laughs)

SERVALAN: There's no need to be so melodramatic, Avon, even if it is a force of habit. This is just a simple transaction, my money for your gold. Can't we both be happy?

(Dayna raises her gun)

DAYNA: You killed my father.

(The Federation mutoids tense and raise their rifles. Keiller pulls Dayna's gun hand down)

KEILLER: Please! We can get out of this alive! Isn't that what we all want?

AVON: Yes... we can get out of this alive. A very good point. Because it's not your style, is it, Servalan? If you've ever shown mercy no one has seen it. And yet... this is just a transaction.

(Avon kicks open the box. It's filled with notes)

AVON: Bank notes. Genuine. That you want us to have.

SERVALAN: And why not take them?

AVON: I've thought this whole scheme over... and discussed it with my dear friend Orac. You have only one possible motivation for letting us take this money: our humiliation. And as it just so happens Federation talks are in place right now to annex Zeroc as a new territory. Meaning Zeroc currency could be worthless in a matter of days. Gold, however, no matter what it's colour, shall always be in favour.

SERVALAN: Very impressive. But you're still here. Did you want to see me again that badly?

(Avon grins ominously)

AVON: You could say that.

DAYNA: One last time.

(The mutoids take a step forward, aiming their rifles. Avon and Dayna raise their guns.)

KEILLER: Stop, nobody needs to be killed here! Avon, let's leave.

AVON: (Coldly) Shut up. Servalan, if we holster our weapons will your drones show us the same courtesy?


AVON: I want to make a little demonstration. We are all friends now, aren't we?

(Servalan thinks for a moment and nods to her mutoids. They lower their rifles. Avon and Dayna put away their guns.)

AVON: Good. Dayna, show your latest toy to our friends.

(Dayna pulls out a tiny cylinder, and tosses it to one of the mutoids.)

DAYNA: Catch!

(The mutoid awkwardly does so, and some of the others raise their rifles quickly. When it becomes clear that it's not a bomb they calm down.)

DAYNA (to mutoid) What do you make of it?

MUTOID: (Examining it) It's useless.


MUTOID: A simple laser ignition - one bolt. Remote control activated. Useless.

DAYNA: Then I suppose you wouldn't mind throwing it as far as you can?

(The mutoid looks to Servalan. She smiles in return)

SERVALAN: Let these two have their fun. Go on.

(Puzzled, the mutoid tosses the device as far away as she can - it travels a long way.)

AVON: Good. Dayna.

(Dayna pulls out a tiny remote and flicks the switch. There is a massive explosion from where the device landed)

KEILLER: What the-

SERVALAN (to mutoid) You said that wasn't a bomb!

MUTOID: It wasn't. I-

AVON: She's right. It wasn't. Just a single laser bolt. You see, Servalan, you made one mistake. Well, maybe two, because you clearly thought I was stupid to boot... but you let me set the terms for the meeting. Soolin told me about Beta-15... completely obscure, completely unknown and completely deserted. And with one fatal quirk: Scion particles infesting the entire atmosphere. Their molecular weight is so great that when they are subjected to laser interference the friction creates a violent explosion.

KEILLER: (near fainting) Oh my...

(Servalan starts to look panicky)

SERVALAN: Drop the guns!

(The mutoids do so, still not showing emotion. Dayna pulls out her own gun again)

DAYNA: And we have these..

(She fires six times, quickly - blasting away the tires on Servalan's jeep. Dayna then grins as she removes the cartridge fro the gun and replaces it.)

DAYNA: Percussion bullets.

(Avon draws his own gun. Servalan is near hysterical)

SERVALAN (to mutoids) Kill them! Kill them!

(The mutoids are uncertain, and try to rush Avon and Dayna, some even pulling out their syringes to attack, while Servalan tries to run away. Avon blasts one away, before diving through the scrum and tackling Servalan by the ankles. Dayna, meanwhile, expertly shoots down all of the mutoids - one of them nearly stabs her but Dayna kicks it in the face and shoots it once it has hit the ground. Unusually, she seems to be completely cold and detached. Keiller whimpers weakly in a foetal position. Avon rolls Servalan so she is face up. Her face is filled with disbelief.)

SERVALAN: It... it wasn't meant to be like this...

AVON: I guessed that.

(He shoves the gun into Servalan's face)

SERVALAN: Please Avon... Sleer has become powerful. Very powerful. Soon she could be a Councillor. Councillor Sleer and Commissioner Avon. You could make a fortune... hundreds of men at your command. Maybe even your own planet. Do you understand? I could give you anything you wanted...

AVON: Could you give me Blake?



AVON: Then join him.

(Avon shoots Servalan in the heart. She shrieks violently, but clings onto life. Her last words are very weak)

SERVALAN: Somehow... I never thought it would be you...

AVON: It nearly wasn't. Dayna and I flipped a coin. You're lucky, all said. Dayna wanted to shoot you nineteen times, once for every year of her life you destroyed. But you know me. Straight to the point, as always.

SERVALAN: This... isn't right...

AVON: Dying alone, cold in the dirt and the grime of an unloved world? I can't think of anything more natural. You can live in the stars all you want... sooner or later you'll die in the mud.

(Servalan looks weaker...but the ghost of a smile crosses her face)

SERVALAN: Avon... Blake...

AVON (tersely) What about him?

SERVALAN: He's... he's...

AVON: He's what?

(Servalan slumps and falls face-first into the mud. Avon is silent. Keiller takes his hands down from his face.)

KEILLER: Is it over?

(Avon is silent. Dayna moves over and gently grips his shoulder)

DAYNA: It was just another one of her games, Avon.

AVON: Yes. (beat) Almost certainly...

DAYNA: She's dead.

AVON: All good things must come to an end.

KEILLER: And you called me ruthless!

(Avon rounds on Keiller angrily)

AVON: No, I called you idiotic. Something I stand by right now. You dragged us into this mess!

KEILLER: Mess? It's worked out, hasn't it?

AVON: If it has I didn't notice. We have a crate of gold that's worthless, and a crate of money that's going to be any day soon. All we've managed is to kill an old enemy, and I can't say you were much help there.

KEILLER: I didn't know-

AVON: Exactly. You're ignorant, untrustworthy and a liability. And you were never my friend. This is where our paths split.

(Avon and Dayna both put on teleport bracelets)

DAYNA: Unless you can eat gold, I suggest you try and find Servalan's ship. It can't be too far away.

AVON (Into bracelet) Vila, it's over. Bring us up.


(Avon and Dayna teleport away)


(Keiller falls to his knees, crying pathetically)


(Dayna and Avon both shimmer into view on the teleport pad. They are deathly silent as they step down into the bridge proper. The rest of the crew look awkward)

TARRANT: So... she's dead.

DAYNA: Very.

SOOLIN: I thought you'd look happier.

(Avon shrugs)

AVON: She's just one. One Federation officer out of thousands. An annoying one, but there'll be another to replace her just standing in line.

(The crew exchange looks.)

TARRANT: You don't sound yourself, Avon.

DAYNA: Well, before she died Servalan-

AVON: Dayna, no.


AVON: (angrily) NO!

VILA: She what?

DANYA: She said -

AVON: Nothing!

(Everyone's giving Avon odd looks now.)

AVON: Absolutely nothing. No last words, nothing. Just a limp, pale rag doll slowly rotting into the sand.

(Awkward silence)

AVON: Slave!

SLAVE: Yes, master?

AVON: Set course for base.

SLAVE: At once, master! I hope that you all can recover from this terrible ordeal, masters.

AVON (dryly) Thank you.

(Avon walks towards the corridor)

AVON: I don't know about the rest of you, but I need some rest. And some time to think.

(Before leaving he turns to face the rest of the crew)

AVON: And if ANYONE ever says anything to me about gold again, they'll regret it.


Yeah, I killed off Servalan. Big whoop, wanna fight about it? Honestly, I think the character is over-used to buggery and her behaviour in that story just screams out for her to be killed due to her incredible smugness.

I do feel a little bit dirty now, having written a fic that Marian de Haan would probably enjoy...


Well, here it is, folks, the newest Ben Chatham story. It features the return of a classic villain and a stunning guest cast. Big Finish are interested:

Horror of The Pagans - A Ben Chatham adventure

Ben Chatham was having a shower while listening to Philip Glass when the phone rang. It was Harriet Jones, who tells Ben about unusually intelligent chavs. Wasting no time, Ben goes to bed so he'll be refreshed for the next day, and eventually sets off to investigate. On route he meets an old friend of his he once had a sexual relationship with (played by Joe Absolom), and together they get drunk. Eventually, they arrive at the scene of the crime, where Ben finds that the Garm plans to blow up the earth, for some reason. Ben takes his shirt off, revealing his smoothe chest

Ben leaps into action, and promptly complains about the colour of the wallpaper, which reminds his companion that the villains are killed by the colour orange. They throw an orange jelly baby at them, killing them and saving the day With the world finally safe, everybody gathers around Ben, and sings "For He's a Jolly Good Fellow". Ben grins sheepishly, and sleeps with every male member of the cast.

Please, remember that this is only a first draft. Will post more after I go to the lavatory.

[*Disengaging Fish-man drive*]

Sorry, couldn't help myself when I found this little beauty. Weeeell, by 'found', I mean it was linked to by BernieFishnotes, who I think has well and truly over-taken me to earn the honour of Sparacanan Pisstaki Generalissimo.

If anyone has stumbled across this site from a muddled google search and has no idea what I'm talking about, I'm afraid there really is no translation available. But just look at the above story, and then compare it to the genuine article. Spot any differences? Neither did I!

Apologies about not updating the blog much recently. Will do so after I've had some port. Er, no, I didn't mean to say that...