While parts of the second season of the new Galactica drag just as badly as the first – in particular the plot elements concerned with the Cylon masterplan and the impending birth of the child of doom are stretched so thin as to be practically impreceptible. Also, the density of journalists and the political and social structure of the fleet still don’t make much sense other than as commentary on the US today. On the plus side, the acting, set design and the general military mood are great, and the writing, which is generally quite good, of the last few episodes of the second season in particular was excellent. Partly because the main plotline, stalled by the arrival of the Pegasus and its semifascist admiral, finally started moving, but also because the usual seriousness was spiced up with some nice humorous elements. A welcome relief from the heavy handedness which some of the political and moral issues were presented with. The explanation for how the humans were detected (the atomic blast was picked up a year later and a light year away) is a nice nod to physics (though you have to wonder where this nebula clad planet is located for there to be something of interest just a lightyear away. Ah, well). I’m looking forward to the next season, which is slated for airing starting October.

English, Good, Movies, Science Fiction, TV | No Comments »

The meticulous recreation of buildings and social networks of the little digger town somewhere in the cold American Northwest is enough to make this gem worth watching, but the story of McCabe and Mrs Miller that Altman set against this backdrop is in itself touching and rewarding. A very unusual Western, if you want to call it that, with an uncompromising ending. Very interesting to watch the special features, too. Some documentary on the making of the movie, and a movie trailer, both not badly done, but horribly, horribly dated, to the point of being hilarious, while the movie itself is timeless. must be the difference between art and craft.

English, Movies, Must See, Western/Eastern | No Comments »

How refreshing, after reading a lot of idea driven, gimmicky SF, to discover this. I found it in the bookstore run by the Friends of the Berkeley public library, among pulp paperbacks, and though I’d never heard of Wyndham, was intrigued by the cover art and the fact it had come out on Penguin. The story is a crossover between Capeks wonderful War with the Newts and Well’s War of the Worlds, with an extraterrestrial menace, quite possbily flying in from Jupiter, settling in the deeps of earths oceans, and proceeding to exterminate the bothersome land mammals. The story is gripping – though the solutions’s alomost perfect parallel to Wells’ is a bit disappointing – but the true strength of the book lies in the two main characters, a married couple of radio documentary writers, who witness most of the events from close up, but have hardly any active part in the matters at all. This viewpoint lends the story enormous credibility, based on the one hand in the strong execution of characterization and background, but also in the familiarity of events unfolding on a large scale that one is powerless to stop or alter, yet keeps reflecting upon and discussing as though one did. Finally, the acerbic depiction of cold war diplomacy at the height of madness is the crowning piece on a very nice cake.

Books, English, History, Must See, Politics, Science Fiction | No Comments »

My favorite family of criminals is back, but so far I’m none too sure about how happy I should be about it. The first episode caused mostly consfusion, for its lack of continuity – for instance how come Tony and Carmela are as harmonious again as we see them, was there any fallout from the horrible murder of Adriana that made last seasons second to last episode so intensely hard to watch – and for its lack of direction. Nothing is happening we haven’t seen many times before, no plot is advanced, right up until the moment Tony gets shot by Junior, who seems to be truly demented by now, but also might be scheming again. The second episode then has us all watch Tony linger in limbo, while his spiritual and bodily fate are being decided. The metaphorical, dreamlike sequences are nice to watch, but once again the episode doesn’t advance much. Except maybe for AJ’s promise of a revenge killing.

Drama, English, Good, Movies, TV | No Comments »

The Myst game series has an odd quality about it. Some of the puzzles are frustratingly complex, and hardly make any sense within the stories, which in addition tend to abound with psychological cliches. But of course the strength of Myst lies in the design of the worlds, called Ages, in which it is set, and Revelation is no exception to these rules. The cliched story is accompanied here by some pretty horrific acting efforts, and the difficulty of at least one of the puzzles verges on the ridiculous, with another one being bad enough for a character within the game to suggest that if you get too frustrated, you should go away and try again later. But, oh, the Ages. Tomahna is a cluster of buildings in a sheltered cove that I wouldn’t hesitate to move into in an instant, Spire a marvellously desolate and forbidding hovering crystal tower, Haven a lush jungle full of strange creatures, and Serenia a cool looking mix of several stone masonry cultures. Just walking around in these environments would be a pleasure, and the occasional riddle adds to that a nice sense of involvement.

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While certainly better than it’s two predecessors, this final installment in the Hyperion story still subtracts from the original book. Why do sequels always fall so badly short of truly adding to a work, and why do creators still have the urge too do them? The Shrike was a mythical force, the future a mysterious place, the present hardly comprehensible when Hyperion ended. Now all that is dissolved in an action feast full of explosions, a quaint patchwork of worlds the size of small villages and populated by caricatures of foreign cultures and a badly contrived plot. While it is challenging for an action driven plot to have a practically omniscient character, his solution of “I know but I won’t tell you yet” is infuriating. The fall of the Pax at the end is a complete Deus-ex-machina, and the twist ending makes no sense whatsoever. But the biggest failure of all three sequels lies in the delivery of what Hyperion wisely withheld – answers to the philosophical and ethical questions. Simmons goes on at great length about how utterly and fantastically otherworldly the Ousters are, yet their behavior, thinking, language and mores are indistinguishable from today’s middle class America. I also find the revelling in violence, torture and death on an enormous scale slightly disturbing. For someone proposing a culture of empathy and universal love, Simmons shows an odd fascination with intense cruelty and suffering.

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Sodbrennen kennt ja jeder, hier in den USA zumal. Etliche Regalmeter in den konkurrierenden Drogeriemarktmolochfilialen Walgreens, Long’s, Elephant Pharmacy und Walmart sind mit Antacidtabletten, -pasten, -pülverchen vollgestellt, der lustigen Rechtslage im Medikamentenwesen wegen meist mit einem Markenprodukt und der Hauskopie direkt daneben. Die Hauskopie ist von schlichtem Design, ein paar Dollar billiger als die Markenware und fordert den Käufer unweigerlich an prominenter Stelle dazu auf, die Inhaltssangaben mit der des Markenproduktes zu vergleichen. Zeigst du mir deins, zeig ich dir meins. Aber auch ohne diese Produktverdopplung herrscht eine irrwitzige Auswahl and Säurepuffern und -blockern, Kalziumkarbonatkautabletten mit Fruchtgeschmack, Wasserstoffionenpumpenhemmer. Es muss dies ein Aspekt der Freiheit sein, die die Terroristen in solch wilden Aufruhr versetzt.

Ich fühle mich in diesen Säuremittelbasen zuhause und verstanden, denn wie ich anlässlich einer traumatischen Schlauchverschluckung erfuhr, ist mein Speiseröhrenschliessmuskel zu schwach für den Job, aber leider unkündbar, und nun schwappt regelmässig die Magensäure nach oben und beisst mit kleinen Zähnen in empfindliches Gewebe. So weit, so gewöhnlich.

Oft aber geht mein Sodbrennen einher mit dumpfem Schmerz in einem fünfmarkstückgrossen Fleck an der Aussenseite meines rechten Handgelenks, und das fasziniert mich. Eine vage Forstellung von Nervenkonvergenz machte mich glauben, dass das ein ein Schmerzsignal aus meinem Getriebe ist, das übers Handgelenkkabel an den falschen Schmerzempfinder geleitet wird. Aber der Arzt, dem ich die Theorie vortrug, winkte nur abschätzig und ein bisschen verlegen ab. Quatsch. Seitdem versuche ich, Karten von dieser Nervenkonvergenz zu finden, bislang mit einer drolligen Kombination aus wenig Einsatz und wenig Erfolg. Wahlweise nähme ich auch einen Beleg dafür, dass diese Nervenverwirrung von Person zu Person verschieden ist, und es also bei Hinz ein Leberleiden signalisiert, wenn der grosse Zeh ziept, bei Kunz hingegen einen Milzdefekt.

Ich gebe die Wissenslücke hier mal zu Protokoll. Vielleicht kommt eine Staubmilbe und schliesst sie.

Berkeley, Deutsch, Gesundheit, Miniaturen, Science | No Comments »

Seit Wochen bin ich in Sorge, letzte Woche gar ging ich gar nicht erst, und fühlte mich wie ein Drückeberger deshalb, obwohl es auch andere Gründe gab, ich musste eine Programmierarbeit erledigen und hatte grade als der Zeitpunkt naherückte eine schöne Idee, obendrein leitet Mittwochs Judy das Training, und unter ihrer Führung wird selten eine elegante Einheit draus, und oft Ausdauerbelastung bis an die Grenze. Vor allem aber hat Judy Mittwoch vor drei Wochen gefragt, ob ich nicht das Aufwärmen leiten wolle. Schockschwerenot. Ich kniff, und der andere Braungurt musste stattdessen ran, und wurde prompt vom Gastsensei in den Senkel gestellt, wegen angeblich mangelnden Enthusiasmus und nicht ausreichender Führungsqualität. Fünf Minuten Strafpredigt. Seitdem ist mir ein wenig angst und ziemlich bang.

Vor einigen Jahren, die Geschichte erzählte derselbe Gastsensei bei anderer Gelegenheit wie die Kriegsschnurre, die sie ja auch war, waren die Sitten im UC Karateklub noch martialischer, die Disziplin schärfer und kleine pelzige Wesen noch richtige Kampfratten aus dem Abwasserrohr. Damals wurden drei Braungurte ermahnt, sich auf die Übernahme der Aufwärmleitung vorzubereiten. Wer einen Fehler in Abfolge oder Anzahl der Turntanzschritte mache, werde Liegestützen bis zum Ende der normalerweise knapp eine halbe Stunde dauernden Trainings machen. Brian, auf Exempelpirsch, wählte den Braungurt, bei dem er eines Versagens sicher war, und tatsächlich geschah ein Versehen. Leider schon während der ersten Übungen. Für den Übeltäter folgte eine halbe Stunde Liegestütze in der Ecke und, zwei Wochen fiebrige Krankheit und Muskelpein wegen Vollverausgabung. Gute alte Zeit.

Nun steht Judy wieder vor mir und fragt “do you want to lead warmups?” Zwanzig Sekunden lang ringe ich erbärmlich mit mir, “you don’t have to” sagt sie, und das gibt den Ausschlag. Wenn ich nicht muss, dann muss ich natürlich, es ist wie bei Kindern und dem Klo, nur ganz anders. Am Ende habe ich mich halbwegs durch die Affäre gerettet, zweimal angehalten und nachgefragt und ungefähr ein Viertel weggelassen. Liegestützen setyt es trotzdem keine. Gepriesen sei der Zivilisationsprozess.

Berkeley, Deutsch, Martial Arts, Miniaturen, Sports | No Comments »

Amazingly, having a wrinkled and depressed Bill Murray in a jumpsuit drive around coloring tress does not a good movie make. Who would have thought? In fairness, I was probably having my expectations too high, since I’m an admirer of both Jarmusch’s (Dead Man!) and Murray’s previous work. But even after correcting for that, I did not feel a connection with either Murray (who played essentially the same character, only much better, in Lost in Translation) or any of his former girlfriends, and the neighbour gone detective, as a grotesque caricature, doesn’t even qualify. Watch About Schmidt instead, it’s a much better movie.

All Right, Drama, English, Movies | No Comments »

When I reviewed Fall of Hyperion in this space, I said that I wanted to wait a substantial time before continuing on. Unfortunately I succumbed to the temptation. While I don’t really regret having read Endymion, it is yet another step down from Hyperion’s brilliance of vision and design. While Simmons world continues to amaze with its complex design and rich tapestry of culture and science – which, once again, becomes thinnest in the attempts of creating a cultural history of the future by combining ficticious future classics with actual ones – his characterization, plot and dialogue are bordering on the horrid. He often falls into the trap of having to tell us justifications and motivations instead of showing them, and the whole book has the wearisome feeling of being but a prequel to the final volume. The adventures of Aenea, Endymion and Bettik on their way to Old Earth seem arbitrary and unconnected, and while the multiple death ordeal of the Pax crew charged with tracking them down is chilling, their near success in the face of incredible odds is silly, and can in the end only be explained by the near omniscience of the dei-ex-machina in the TechnoCore. I’ll hold off final judgment until I’ve read Ride of Endymion, but so far I strongly feel Simmons should have stopped after Hyperion.

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