Proceed With Caution - Post Mother's Day

So Mother’s Day has ended in the US. In Blighty this had come and gone in March but my mind rolls over motherhood again and in particular mother’s day. You can’t really escape it in social media, in the run up there are loads of inspirational quotes about the bond between mother and daughter, mother and sons, lists of things to do to say thank you and how much you appreciate mother. It was when I read an article about mother’s day for those who have lost children that the seed was planted for what I am writing here. Another theme that does tend to come up during this time is forgiveness. That while things may have happened in some nether where things were said, now is the time in honour of mother’s day to forgive and move on. Please see appropriate card via moonpig.

This is always a strange time for me and I am sure that I am not alone. You see I do not speak to my mother. It is always a strange thing, when you meet someone new and there comes the point when you have to explain that your mother is not a factor in your life.

It’s been brought home to me more since I have my own daughter. The thing is that usually people presume she is dead, but then the inevitable happens so you have to prepare a statement to handle it. It’s a bit like Jenny Garp in ‘The World According to Garp’ by John Irving. You find a way to put across an awkward situation that happened ages ago using succinct sentences.

One of the trends that I have realised is that when faced with a scenario like this, a lot of people want to ‘fix’ it. They ask about the time that has passed, they remark about how long it’s been and about letting go and forgiveness. They insert the relevant Dr Phil-Oprah-Deepak-Iyanla platitude. I used to get really angry about it, I used to feel shame because I felt like there was something that was wrong again that I needed to fix. Because, clearly I wasn't going through enough just dealing with the aftermath of it all. A few years ago, something happened which changed my perspective.

Actually they were two separate incidents. One incident was talking to my brother and a friend about an old memory. My brother and I were laughing about it but our friend wasn't. She was a bit horrified and challenged us to realise that our humour was a guard; it was how we dealt with the awful things that happened when we were kids. It made us both look at our past with very different eyes.

The second incident was when the lead from Lost Prophets was arrested. I wondered about those poor children who will grow in time and find out what was done to them and that the person who was charged with loving them and caring for them, exploited them. I wondered how the world would treat them and then I thought about them on mother’s day, hearing some of the platitudes that I have heard. Believe me; I did not suffer in anyway near as much as those children. I was not sexually exploited. Around the same time, I was asked the usual question about making contact, and it began with, “She’s probably getting old now, do you really want not contacting her to be on your conscience?” My counter questions were, “Would anyone, who knew the identities of those children ask them the same question when they got older? Would it be right? Does anyone ask Tina Turner, the last time she saw Ike and that maybe things had gone on long enough and she should bury the hatchet?” No because those are extreme examples of abuse. In their extremity, we allow the victims to make their decisions. We weigh up the crime and say, “Actually, I can understand why they want to move on without those people in their lives.” But for people who have experienced what some may deem lower level abuse, the question is asked of the victim in many different ways, “How are YOU going to solve this?”

We have become so used to the public spectacle. A lot of this started with the talk shows, the Sally Jessie Raphael, Jerry Springer, hell Oprah played her part too. We watch families fall apart and demand they resolve it in an hour for our entertainment. Our morbid delight that thank fuck it isn't us up there. This has morphed into Big Brother, Ex on the Beach and countless other ‘reality’ shows. I am sure that Stephen King’s Running Man is not far behind. The legacy of that for me are a lot of people who want to diagnose and fix you because what you are going through defies a norm that they have in mind. I am by my nature and the choices I have made, a confrontational person in the eyes of many. The default from some is to assume that this is some family feud because I didn't keep quiet. The truth is so much more complicated. This is challenged every damn day, especially when raising my daughter.

It is a balancing act and then it’s an internal war and then it mutates into something else. This barrage of parenting advice from everywhere, applying the things I have learned in counselling, the things I see and hear and we haven’t even got to Secondary school yet.

One of the things I am grateful for is the people I surround myself with and in an unusual twist, I am grateful for Facebook. I don’t just friend anyone on Facebook, I choose carefully and the things I see on my timeline reflect this. These are folks with great humour and intelligence, mothers who are sometimes just as bewildered as me at the prospect of motherhood. It’s nice and refreshing, especially in the face of those who would only present things as perfect screenshots and I appreciate it, I appreciate it more on days like today when my daughter challenges me. The people that I choose to have  in my life remind me of Roald Dahl’s Matilda, they remind me that I am not alone and that I do not have ‘let bygones be bygones’ to fulfil a strange idea of closure courtesy of Hallmark.

So what am I saying? What is my helpful Geraldo Riviera summary. Fuck knows! Just kidding. I am not going to tell anyone to do a damn thing they don’t want to. Do what is right for you, find resolution and peace in the way that you need to. While some folks have spent their time telling me how to find peace about the situation, very few of the same have asked, “How are you about the situation?” Not everything has to be perfectly resolved to the specifications of others. I think that today was just a day to remind myself what I have been through, what I am going through and the legacy that I deal with everyday. To pluck the fruit from the seed planted months ago.

Now take care of yourselves and….oh bollocks!!

"The name's Morticia....Cara Mia if you're nasty!!"

Well hey there and hello for 2015!

I'm here, nursing a good tipple against the cold breeze and realising that it’s been too long time since I have stopped long enough to have a bit of a rant. I've had plenty amongst my nearest and dearest but no topic has riled me enough to put my thoughts out here for the entertainment and perusal of you all…until now that is.

So, today marks the release of the film ‘50 Shades of Grey’. If you have somehow escaped this madness I will allow you a minute or 2 to look it up….ok, you’re done now back to me.

So this is supposed to be a big deal. Seriously, this is supposed to hail the sexual awakening of countless women in the western world who used to think that BDSM is an additive. You can’t look at a bus or billboard and not see the ad campaign. The masses have been thrown head first into a world of 'intrigue and desire' with the loaded Christian Grey and his ‘assistant’ Ana Steele. 

The world is never going to be the same again as demonstrated by the scores of people trudging towards Ann Summers and fiddling with the riding crops and handcuffs, trying desperately to buy them quickly while the kids are distracted outside. You too with some DIY and a little help from Cargo and the supermarkets could have your own dungeon to replay your best scenes. London Fire Emergency Services are on standby to answer the tsunami of calls pertaining to removal of cock rings or chastity belts gone hideously wrong. B&Q staff have been fully trained in which cable tie is suitable for the sex dungeon and why the vibrator powered by rudimentary pneumatic drill may not be the best idea.

Women have awoken friends and what they demand is a damn good thrashing, leather optional at the hands of a rich handsome pretentious miserable wankstain….at least, this is how it's portrayed.

In one sense, the book definitely opened the eyes of a lot of people to BDSM but taking this as some form of instruction manual as some seem to be, sorry kid that just don’t wash. 

Now subject matter aside, the book is poorly written and an excellent example of what happens when you don’t do your research. One of my favourite authors is Stephen King. I have loved his books since I was a teenager and there always comes a time when I think I should probably put him down and then I read something again and remember why I love his work. I am no blind follower though, I am a critical Constant Reader (which is what Stephen calls his fans). Some of his work I don’t get on with, others are fine and then there are the Masterpieces. Stephen King is one of the first authors to show me the beauty of the short story, a little titbit to frighten or make you laugh. In most of his collections of short stories, he gives a background to the how or why a story came into being and one of my favourites is about a story  called ‘Survivor Type’ I read this story and then read as Stephen King told how he had come up with the idea by asking a doctor friend of his, whether a person could eat themselves. The quote that the doctor responds with forms the basis of what is the novella. 

One of the things that Stephen King managed to drill into my brain is the importance of research, even if the results that you find are more surprising than you thought. You need to research your subject as your writer. It is also something that he comically ends up telling William Goldman off about in regards to the 'Princess Bride'. The research propels your work.  My point is ’50 Shades’ really seems to lack research. While she may have looked into the best ways to tie someone up and throw a tampon out the window, she seems to have dismissed entirely the big section on after-care. The part where you tidy up, hug, cease weeping for a sec and talk about what just happened and how it has effected each person. It reads like someone’s idea of  BDSM played out by 2 automatons and the most annoying part of it is that there are people out there who will use this idea of domination as an introduction to that life. Which is why I am rallying the call to look elsewhere. 

I have absolutely no qualms about the BDSM lifestyle. The crux of it is consent, trust and care with alot of talking. This is how true BDSM should be approached. Following the examples written by E.L. James is a sure fire trip to disaster, bankruptcy and probably counselling.

For better writing skills and a gripping read, why not start with the originator of masochism, Leopold Masoch’s ‘Venus in Furs’? I could recommend other material until the cows come home but for a beginners' guide to follow, I am going to hang it all out there and say hey, just follow Gomez and Morticia Addams.

Yep I said it…The Addams Family. Come in close…I’m not nuts. Watch the series, I implore you. Then watch the Barry Sonnenfeld films. Listen to the dialogue, with corrupt adult ears and you will realise what a trick you were missing as you laughed at Morticia cutting the heads off roses.

“Last night you were unhinged. You were like some desperate, howling demon. You frightened me. Do it again!”

“Don't torture yourself, Gomez. That's my job.”

Gomez and Morticia Addams...playing out their BDSM for all the world to see to canned laughter. Forget The Munsters, there were poor cousins masquerading as entertainment. Gomez and Morticia made no secret of the fact that they had sex, lots of it and adored each other. They supported their family, encouraged and loved Wednesday and Pugsley and had and enjoyed submission and domination.

Gomez the willing sub in adoration of his mistress, Morticia, controlled chaos, at peace with her role as wife, mother and dom. It is a great example of the fun and good times to be had as a couple in marriage and definitely in love. This is no old, withered couple, these are people who enjoy each other as much now as the day they met at that fated funeral and they work hard to keep that attraction as fresh as that first day.
  
Gomez caters to Morticia's desires and throws himself on her mercy. She is not just the ice queen merely issuing edict, she cares and loves him. Pain and pleasure, though interplayed never mean that caring is sacrificed and it shouldn't be. No decent mistress would merely discard her plaything (unless of course agreed beforehand).

This is why in my humble opinion if you are curious about the world of BDSM, save your money, walk away from Mr Grey and Ana Steel. You can't go wrong following the examples of Morticia A. and Gomez Adams. click click.

“Mawage, that bwessed awangment, that dweam wifin a dweam…”

So this morning, I'm browsing through the headlines on my phone while debating how to spend my day off with my daughter and I come across a story that Chris Rock has filed for divorce from his wife of 18 years. After that were a few examples of some of the things that he had said about his marriage during the course of some of his most memorable shows. I look at these barbs and there is a splinter in my mind.

I put the phone down and after a few hours, here I am. Funnily enough this blog began life as a soliloquy to geek marriage but in the face of this news, I feel there is more to be said.

I am married. We've been married for 7 years and I was never the kid who wanted the Disney princess wedding dress…I was far more interested in the level of buffet to be honest. Coming from a background where my parents divorced painfully (TV Movie in the works kids!), my maternal grandparents divorced in spectacular fashion and the few who were married didn't seem to be having a good time, I was not the biggest fan of it.

Good marriages were on TV and when I looked around; my life bore no resemblance, so I settled into the idea of anything but. Until I met someone, not my husband but this guy actually opened me up to the idea of marriage as a possibility. That being with someone did not have to resemble something not dissimilar to Platoon or Apocalypse Now. Ironically this relationship burned bright and ultimately out but I am grateful for the fact that he challenged me and allowed me to see the good in marriage and not the shit that I was told about marriage.

One of my best memories as a child is listening to my parents and relatives listen to comedians. Drinks would flow and my cousins and I would be sent to bed whereupon we would sneak and sit on the stairs, high up so we couldn't be seen and listen to them cackle to Richard Pryor. As much as I loved Richard Pryor though, Millie Jackson was a legend to me. It was the idea that a woman could be as coarse as Richard Pryor, so candid and then give great voice, was mind blowing. I fully appreciate that in these formative years my taste towards the coarse was assured.

As I have grown naturally so have my tastes and my life experiences tend to reflect the people I like. Lately though, I began to wonder about the relationship between the reality and the product. If your export is misery and despair then where is the line, does entertainment feed into and thus create the reality? I think of this when I think of some of the comedians that I like now, Kevin Hart, Louis C.K, Bill Burr and Chris Rock. I have seen their recent shows and laughed like a loon for the most part. But when it comes to the parts about marriage, my laughter isn't as raucous.

With the exception of Bill Burr who recently got married, the other comedians have or are going through divorce. Chris Rock, especially in the last few years has spared no amount of vitriol about the institution, I mean the signs were there, the guy made a film called “Why did I get married?” so we can’t say that we didn't see if coming. However whilst watching Chris Rock and Kevin Hart perform, I couldn’t help but feel a sense of annoyance, this idea that they had been hunted down in the jungles of singledom and then been bound, gagged and fucked into ‘I Do’. The moans about the changes and mundane, the kids and the ‘time served’ plus the need to cut loose with the guys and remember the man they sacrificed in order to be married…I would find myself looking around thinking, “Are you all hearing this?” and the audience lap it up, some of the guys are nodding in that “Yeah bro, I know exactly what you mean!” While partners sit there smiling but confused, should I laugh at what I am, how you see me or how you see us is engraved on features. At least Louis CK and Bill Burr say upfront that they do not come into this arrangement perfect, Louis CK is one of the few comedians to say outright that men are the biggest threat to women.

I know that Chris and Kevin are not the only comedians to talk about marriage in this way. The light hearted antics of Michael McIntyre to Lee Evans are littered with the typical “Oh ain't married life a pile of wank fellas eh eh ain't it?!” I guess what I am saying is that there is an icky feeling surrounding marriage and some of these comedic routines have normalised bad ones as the norm. 

These are bad marriages for whatever reason. Somehow, this is what you are supposed to expect and this is the most apparent when you are out with your spouse. I have sat across from people in a pub as my husband hugs and kisses me, who are gobsmacked that a) we are married b) we have been married over 2 years c) we have a kid and d) most damning, we have sex. It is literally like we are a new species.

In my circle of friends, I am not alone. There are 6 married couples that we chill out, game and get drunk with, and at some point we have had the same conversation about the expectation of misery and the men of the piece seem pretty damn happy, bring on the munchies and it’s like a weird blissful bubble that we look at the world through.

These are not the ‘smug marrieds’ of Bridget Jones. The women that I know don’t want to change these guys. They are not the bitch queens, needing approval, the blood and veins and of course the freedom on their men. The guys are not pussy whipped dullards, coming out with their hands up, handing over the keys, the laptop, the money, the dignity and their balls. These wonderful people are just awesome and the big thing is that they tend to be friends, first and foremost.

They literally rage against the dying of the light and do not cater to this idea of marriage. They travel, have fun, build Death Stars out of Lego, play tabletop, bake mean cakes and cook like demons. They drink (a lot), party hard, are intelligent wise and so fucking funny and I love em to bits.

As for my husband, we once had a very serious walk out of the room argument about Keanu Reeves…no lie a literal shout match. He can be a right pain in the ass but guess who is just as much as a pain in the ass…that’s right folks. Yours truly.

I guess what I am saying is that I am sick of the alleged battlefield of marriage. I choose different comedy like Stephen Lynch, not a word about marriage but my god the horror about everything else. I do not subscribe that this is the way it has to be and I am choosing something different, living something different. Try being friends for a bit…if you cannot stand the person as a mate you would willingly have a drink, a pizza and watch a bad movie with then why the hell even bother?

Marriage is just not about that….it is so not what they tell you. Find the meaning for yourselves and for frell’s sake, be excellent to each other!

The Quantum of Pinterest

So there I was in the middle of another blog, which will be featured here at some point when a series of recent comments has moved me to put this together.
I guess the best place to start is with a straight up confession. I am a Pinterest Mum….there I said it, it’s out there. But before you ready the torches, allow me to explain a few things.

Pinterest was recommended to me a few years ago when it was in its infancy. There weren't many people on it but I found the idea novel. A giant pin-board of the stuff that you have seen on-line and say, “Oooh I LIKES” and then actually put somewhere as opposed to forgetting it and then thinking, “Now where did I see that thing?” So I joined up and I found out about Etsy and other places that I didn't know about. The timing for me was perfect because I was in a complete state of flux and Pinterest allowed me to see a different way to do things. 

Suddenly it became the ‘thing’ that everyone jumped on, I saw an influx of people but I didn't follow every new person’s board just because they had one thing that I liked. My on-line choices reflect my real life choices, so just like it will take me a good while to choose decent eye-liner and not the one that has been recently advertised as the best, the same goes with the people I friend on Facebook and follow on Pinterest.
I think this is key. There have been a few people whom I have followed and then after seeing the same flipping bird tattoos and wonders of Paleo eating I have just stopped following. Why? Well the way I see it is that they have a voice and I do too but sometimes I don’t want to hear what they have to share. They are entitled to do the same, no harm no foul. But recently I have started to see a trend of bashing Pinterest.

The folks who proclaim vehemently, that they will not create jewellery from macramé or use baking soda and vinegar to clean their surfaces. Witness the bile as they tell you point blank that they do not give a good goddamn that lavender is better than Nytol and that the world has not got time to upcycle old jeans into waistcoats or make glow in the dark lamps from kilner jars and glitter. They speak of the pressure to do these things and that they feel if they do not take part that they are bad parents, awful friends and that the time they have is precious and if they choose to use their time not making loom band flowers then that is their right, thank you very much.

You know what I agree. But let me add this.

I spent a lot of my life as a child and teenager being told that I was clumsy, silly and fat. I took no pleasure in the things that most girls did at my age. I was weird and strange but those people who took the time to look past that and gave me a chance, to  actually inspire me well they made an impact. One of the highlights of my teenage years was performing as Bottom in Shakespeare’s Midsummer Night’s Dream. 2 nights with a donkeys head on and I tell you this, I was fucking awesome! That only came about because a teacher took the time to believe in what I could do when most of the world was telling me that I had little to offer. She saw in me things that I couldn't see then.

So now I am an adult, with a daughter of my own. Her Dad is a wonder and we have a great marriage. The 3 of us are a little unit of awesome and they inspire me everyday to fight the demons of my past that told me that I had no talent and nothing to offer the world. With the help of Pinterest, I had the courage to give things a try and see them come to life. I knit my own snoods in winter because it’s something I can do on a train, instead of stare into space and avoid the smell of rush hour. I can usually do it cheaper and there is a pride in something that you make. I have come to realise that I am gifted when it comes to creative. I also do not have to put up with the indignity of not looking good. The high street, which these days sees size 10 as plus size, likes to put the curvaceous and buxom lady in some of the most awful clothes and I can be anything from a 16 to a 20 depending on the shop. The point is that Pinterest showed me a myriad of sites and looks that I can happily achieve and not feel like I am missing out because I am not a stick insect. I vote with my money to pay folks around the world to make me look good. It’s a win-win, they get to make the things they want and I get to buy it.I bake my own bread usually, but sometimes I am just too tired. I made my own sourdough starter a few weeks back.

I love geeky rockabilly weird shit with corsets and I have found some of the most charming and talented folks via Pinterest who have helped me look good. I know how to do make-up now as I was never taught, I have rediscovered some of my Gran’s recipes because she died and didn't teach me as everyone presumed I couldn't cook. I was inspired to go to Art classes and am writing my first graphic novel. My daughters’ most recent party was a lot of Pinterest work and you know why I am unapologetic about it? Simply because the kids loved it, my daughter was rocked by it and I put a little less money into the hands of big business and happily gave it to some creative folks trying to do their thing.

Because honestly that’s one of the things it’s about. 

I follow some great folks. There’s a woman who loves to can and preserve stuff and is very much into survival. Her everyday carry is immense and I am sure that if the zombies come, this lady is more than ready with a lot of sharp implements and canned goods. Am I intimidated by her? Not really. Do I feel the need to follow her example? Nope. However she did raise a good point about carrying around a little bit of First Aid as you never know what might happen. As someone who does this and has helped 3 complete strangers and a little girl on the school run, I cannot recommend enough that more of us should do this.
I don’t feel intimidated by the pictures of Disney World and the fact that I haven’t taken my family. But the handy hint about putting the daily budget in envelopes on holidays so you know what you are working with was a god send on our recent trip.

I know that there are a lot of mothers who see the things on Pinterest and feel like this is just another thing telling them that they are not good enough. That not making things with their kids means they are awful. This is what I say to you.

The judgement of your love is not on Pinterest. The judgement of your talent as a parent isn't on Pinterest. That is the preserve of your wonderful darlings. They try us and stretch us and some days you may not feel like you are good enough or just enough. You are. Don’t make that knitted cuddly toy because a site told you to. Do it because you want to. If you are sick of it all then turn it all off and chill just be. Don’t allow some pictures on Facebook or Pinterest to tell you that what you are doing is crap. 

Take a breath. Walk away if you must. Maybe just chill and if worse comes to worst, have a look at something awesome and take some time to recognise the awesome in you.

The Cruel Tutelage of Pai - Mei

I hang my head in shame because I see that it has been a long time since I have posted here. It's been a strange few months, in all honesty some of the things that I have seen have caused a great deal of despair and annoyance. In the midst of all of it, I genuinely wondered what the hell I could say on these pages to those who seek my words and take them in.

It seems that every time of late, that I go on-line, I see this wave of hatred in a place that I was once very comfortable in and a huge defender of. It is so hard to defend something you love when there are folks who just seem so damned determined to poison it. What am I talking about? Trolling.

I had the pleasure of seeing the immense Shane Koyczan over the Easter and was absolutely blown away. Shane was a triumph to behold but there was a point when the whole thing was about to be derailed. After 'The Impotence of Proofreading' by Taylor Mali, Shane began to recite, "To This Day", his well known poem about bullying. During the performance, a random drunken idiot shouted out. The dipshit in question had presumed that the Taylor Mali poem was an insult and then found it hypocritical to talk about bullying. 

The effect was awful, it froze Shane and at one point, he debated that he would end the night there. The audience responded with a standing ovation and what proceeded was a fantastic poem about Trolling. 

This was not supposed to be a tirade about trolling, about how it has become common place now to threaten rape to women over a difference of opinion about a comic or game, this is not that. This is just a call. We once said 'Do not feed the trolls' but in that, we left them beneath bridges to breed and manifest their filth, because they eventually leave the bridges and find their own food.

I just think that it is time for something else...a different mantra and deed as this monster has mutated into something so much more hideous...

One of my main takeaways from the night was the amazing effect of Spoken Word. I was blown away by some amazing talent that night and inspired.

I feel as if I have been collecting inspiration all around me and hoarding it for a rainy season. I see so much around that gets a reaction and then I sit in front of the keyboard or pick up the pen and the words don't flow or the images don't come or worse still they look like the demented scribblings of a thoroughly annoyed 5 year old.

So I have been struggling....yep flipping understatement. So how the hell to get out of it?! Well, I was raised on a steady diet of Kung-Fu movies...not Kick Boxer but the good stuff like Snake in the Eagle Shadow, Drunken Master the list continues on and on and I had a bit of a realization.

Some of the best bits of those movies is the infamous training montage...the bit where the hero is brow beaten and humiliated, their arrogance and anger laid before the feet of the master and then the real training kicks in. You know what I mean? The carrying stone buckets up a billion stairs, upside down push ups against boards, incense under your crotch while crouched, balancing bowls of water on your shoulders...the stuff that is probably the warm up for Shaun T's Insanity.

I love a good training montage, and grumpy trampy preferably drunken old dude with bamboo stick is an added bonus.

I recognised that my frustration is borne from a new level up and that I need to do more and train a bit harder.

So I am undertaking 2 30 day challenges, one for drawing and one for my writing. A mantra I can relate to is that the beginning of life is at the edge of your comfort zone, so I am going into these challenges with the aim to put the work on my creative muscles and focus on some things that genuinely bring me joy.

Time to stop hoarding inspirations and get to using it. 

There are loads and loads of these things out there. The 2 that I am starting from today are here courtesy of Tumblr and here courtesy of Pinterest.

I aim to have something exciting to show during the course of my challenges, so cue the music while I take a beating from Sam Seed and level up.

Guillermo Del Toro: The Modern Harryhausen

So…a while back on a Saturday morning, feeling pretty rough, my husband was subjecting our little girl to his latest bad movie. I should explain from the outset that my husband has a very high tolerance for bad movies…I mean really high. While he is watching a movie, his mind will literally insert a better movie and he will believe that this is the ACTUAL MOVIE. You know how bad a film is if his programming fails to institute this..so far Ghost Rider 2 has been the film where this programming failed….but enough of him. This Saturday in particular he put on Pacific Rim.

Initially, I was hesitant because I had pretty much written this off as Centurions do Clobbering time. I was going to run off back to my hole and then my programming kicked in…the thing about Saturday mornings being the most excellent time to watch anything where entire cities get laid to waste…bloody hell that was my childhood with Tizwazz and Number 73 interludes. So I sit there and I watch. I have to say that it was better than I thought and I didn’t expect much.

This is not a film review but the question I have to ask is when the hell did everyone get so highbrow that we can’t just enjoy a bit of Mechsuit Cavalcade? The reviews for Pacific Rim have been mixed but the main thing that moved me to sit in my corner and tap this out was the monsters.

To my mind, we have fallen out of love with the monster. Horror is overly obsessed these days with the horror being human and the drop in the price of effects mean that we get to see every flipping detail in glorious HD because, why tell a good story with a decent script when you can just show up close torture and gore for 2hours.We get it, humans are awful yadda yadda oh look a deserted asylum/torture dungeon……….fade to red.

Rant aside….I watched and then watched again with friends who jumped on the sofa and swore at the smackdown was laid. I watched these scenes unfold before me and it dawned on me that this film was a strength, the humans are mere backdrop. It’s the creatures we want to see and boy are they beautiful. The Kaiju are great to watch and the Jaeger’s taking them on is great..dare I say it, it’s like how I wished Mighty Morphin Power Rangers was. The monster mash up is not just the set piece, it is what the film is about. The human story pales into insignificance because it is supposed to, we want mech and monsters getting knocked the fuck out.

I watched this film unfold and realised that we are missing a trick with the wonderful Guillermo Del Toro. I have watched a lot of his films, even early stuff like Mimic, and this is the guy who delivered in my opinion the best Blade and that was only achievable because of his unique insight into the world of the monster. It is far too easy to put on a mask and throw a load of synthetics on someone, point a camera, say “action” and have some folks scream and run while the designated monster runs at them.

It is so much harder to stop and infuse that Monster with a heartbeat, a story, something that makes you as the audience take a minute and wonder why the hell we are running and what exactly are we afraid of. Guillermo taking the reins of Hellboy was heaven sent and for me, one of the best scenes is when Hellboy is destroying a creature that is the last of its kind in defence of people who, let’s be honest behave exactly like humans do, judgemental, screaming, anger filled and I wished in that moment that it was wrong, that it was a gross exaggeration as he hands the baby he rescues back. And as we watch this wonderful sight, this amazing fantastical creature die right before us, we are the monsters. We are the ones whom despite appearances were the most base, the most hard to look at. I was embarrassed to be human in that moment.

There is something special in being able to take our idea of the monstrous and turn it completely on its head. From Reaper to Kronen, Sam-i-el the desolate one, Abe and the wonderful markets to the fantastical Kaiju, the creatures that Guillermo presents, move and live. They cling to life.

The world thought it was an amazing thing when James Cameron created Pandora and essentially went all Will Wright to bring Avatar to life.We do not show the same awe to Guillermo and his work reminds me of the great Ray Harryhausen. Ideas that belonged in the pages of the oldest tales brought forth for my Sunday afternoon pleasure. I remember seeing Medusa in Clash of the Titans and literally bricking it which is why I cannot watch the latest version.

In this blog, the first of a fresh new year, I want to take some time to give a huge shout out to the genius that is Guillermo Del Toro. I can only hope that he continues to make us wonder who the Monsters really are out there.

What more can I say, Top Billin! – My top 3 games of 2013

Well, the end of the year approaches. Xbox One & PS4 have debuted and now all that is left is to clean up the streamers and tents and try my best to ignore the console vs console fights that have sprung up all over the place.

This is not a review of consoles, what they can do what they have, how fast they do it and to whom and when. The fact remains is that there is currently no game that I want to buy that makes me need to buy either console. Besides I am having too much of a ball with what’s already out there.

I said in the beginning of this blog that I would discuss any and everything that I am passionate about and this year, which has been pretty rotten, I have to say that one of my anchors has been Gaming. I love it and make absolutely no apologies for it. I have been doing this since the days of Atari and it’s a strange thing to see your child and realise that her experience of gaming began with the Xbox 360….how much of a headscrew is that?

There have been times when I have face palmed in shame about elements of the Gaming community, but every community has the equivalent of the nutty cousin that we don’t like talking about at dinner, due to ‘that unfortunate business’. It comes with anything that you proudly support and any cause that you fight for.

2013 was the year that I conquered my prejudice of Tabletop games and when all was essentially blowing up around me, gaming helped to me to conquer all of those demons. So hats off to a fantastic year that often had my heart beating and jaw slacked. To all the developers and all those companies, Rockstar, RockSteady, 2K and all in between, thank you very much.

In that spirit, I present to you my personal top 3 of 2013.

My top 3 are games that I have played, actually committed time to and got to grips with. I despair that I often read these kinds of roundups and about midway through, you get the distinct impression that the writer not only hasn’t really given the games in question much time but probably has just combined a load of stuff from other places and then formulated an opinion.
So they’ll be none of that malarkey, instead I start with Number 3 which is…..

Saints Row 4
The crowning achievement of this game is that it reminded us that it’s just a Game! I know it sounds daft but hear me out.

Of late there have been a huge surge of games that ultimately want the world to know that gaming can be a very serious business. There is a lot of time and energy in the development, production and marketing of a game before release and gaming commands very serious numbers.

However it could be argued that along the way, we lost some of the fun. Saints Row knew from its 2nd iteration that it was in no way any rival to Grand Theft Auto so it didn’t try to be. It stopped the race and focused primarily on the fact that you can have a story and a pretty look but most of all have some fun. The fact that the game begins with the head of the 3rd Street Saints becoming the President of the US, tells you where its tongue resides. By God, if its in your cheek, you got off lightly. The gameplay is simple enough and yes there are a few twitches here and there, but this game is a montage of fun. You can fly and kill people with the power of Dubstep, you bitchslap an alien and that isn’t even half the fun.
I cannot go on without spoiling the experience by blowing major plot but what I can say is that on a day when I thought laughter was impossible, the 3rd Street Saints had me cackling in no time. It is that reason why it’s my number 3.

This brings me of course to Number 2 which is…controversially

Grand Theft Auto V

Number 2! I know that some folks may think I have lost the plot but please hear me out. My favourite Grand Theft Auto is Vice City. I was engaged and probably more so because I am a child of the 80’s. I joined the ranks of those who were dubious about the promises RockStar was making in terms of this game and then it hit and it was a wonder.

This game did what games should do. Make no mistake, if I am buying an 18 game, I want adult themes and I want to be questioned and GTAV did all of those things. The RAGE system is a dream, the controls are lovely but they are nothing absolutely nothing compared to how beautiful the game looks. It is a marvel, luscious to the point of being edible; it soaks you up and therein lies the power. You see the sun rise over the city and you are hooked. And then there’s Michael, Franklin & Trevor.

They all make you uncomfortable in their own distinct way. They are not here to massage your ego and hold your hand, their function is to get in your face and show you the world through their eye. And the horror is that this is our world and they are the products. Michael, washed up, flushed with cash and empty, pining for a life seen through a lens of 80’s movies that he believes he was promised, practically owed and finding that it’s a lie, a vacuous existence that dulls the sense. He is only alive when doing the thing he is good at…robbing. Franklin, seeing the hood for what it is and is not, with intelligence and sometimes a little common sense. He is the epitome of “the hood made me” but more so he demonstrates that you have to stay where the hood thinks you belong.

The environment and its inhabitants primarily drive to keep you in your place or not be ‘real’ and it is a knife to listen to because they don’t see the cycle that they perpetuate again and again. Improve yourself but only to a point and within your territory. And then there is Trevor. I have rarely played a character so anarchic, so seemingly moulded in Hell, I would genuinely cringe when I had to go to him for fear of what I would see but….there is depth to his sociopathy and intelligence. This is not a Man on Fire, this is a man with the petrol, matches and Napalm quite happy to burn the whole thing down and watch the flames and maybe dowse himself in the process. a man with loyalties, albeit twisted.

This is the 2nd layer that brings the game to life and combined with the system of switching between characters which to my mind is a game changer, this game was astonishing and as jaw dropping as promised.


So why 2nd place…..I have to say…it’s the women.

God does it irk. Strippers, crackheads, general nutjobs, deluded PA’s & Lawyers, Sporty nutters, moaning cheating wives and slutty daughters it is list after list of the same old same old. I know it’s a deliberate pastiche of the current day designed to make you feel very uncomfortable but still really after all this time, I think this was a squandered opportunity for Rockstar to really stand out and that for me was enough to bring it down a place.

A hard task and not popular but that’s just because in my view, in consideration of all of that, there could really be only one winner….the Number 1 which for me was..




Bioshock Infinite
Let me start from the get go and say that my husband was more excited by the arrival of this game than I was. Bioshock made me feel like I wanted out from the world. It was claustrophobic and scared the hell out of me.

Then I watched the trailer, I was intrigued but not blown away…yet. That would come later. It is the only game that I have clocked before my husband and his mate. You have no idea at the significance of that statement. I watched my husband play the first bit and I had to play. I fired up the Xbox and it seemed I played this game with held breath at each level. Just like GTAV it is a wonder for the eye, but there was something of the gobsmacked when I ascended the clouds and passed into Columbia. Maybe after what I had left behind, anything was a wonder.

But a floating city, I knew about it but to see it for the first time and take it in...what a sight to behold. I wished that Occulus was available now so I could plug in and touch it all and that is the trick. One of the amazing things was that when you saw it for yourself, you could scarce take it in and the legacy of Bioshock pushed you further into it because, you felt free. You were not enclosed under the sea and the machinations of Ryan but free to breathe the air.

A pastiche LA is one thing as we have a reference, but a floating city? This is what makes the fall even harder, to see that quite quickly this wonder harbours a rotten core, a carpet unceremoniously pulled from beneath us and you realize very quickly what horrors lie beneath. The beauty that made you visibly sigh, now disgusts you. I think that it would have been easier to really decay the world as you discover more of it but this gift keeps giving. Booker De Witt is a complex character, there are times when he is difficult to stomach but he compels you to keep going which brings me to Elizabeth.

When I saw Elizabeth in preview, I worried that she would be an npc that I would have to look out for and take a bucket for, drag from place to place and generally just get in the way. How wrong was I. The AI is intuitive so Elizabeth ducks and hides, finds supplies and generally is a guide. A guide who will still follow and challenge you. When she is taken away, you feel lost in Columbia, even overwhelmed as this anchor has taken you away and the hits come, revealing itself slowly until the enormity of the story is laid bare and you sit there, taking all of this in.
Bioshock Infinite cemented the legacy that its predecessor did before it; it placed the importance of telling an intelligent story designed to make you think about what had led you there in the first place. My jaw hit the floor when I realized what I had been a part of and there I was thinking that “Would you kindly?” was a hard act to follow. If you haven’t played it, please I urge you to go get it and commit the time to it. Sometimes, you may want to look away from the screen, I urge you not to. What you are seeing before you is a masterstroke of storytelling and the future and glory of all that is truly wonderful about gaming.

Well…that’s about it for me. 2013 has had quite a few tricks up her sleeve and not all of them nice but one of the definite highlights was getting to express the things that I love to a wider audience, essentially while sitting in a corner, drink in hand and looking at my world.
In time honoured tradition, I couldn’t just skidaddle without one last drink….cheers to 2014!

Devils Kiss - Bioshock Infinite cocktail – Courtesy of The Drunken Moogle
Ingredients:
25ml Spiced Rum
25ml Chambord
10ml Grenadine
1 Lime
50ml Ginger Beer
50ml Cloudy Lemonade (carbonated)
2 Dashes Angostura Bitters
Cinnamon
15ml Overproof Rum

Directions: Fill a high ball glass with ice, pour in grenadine, Chambord and dashes of bitters to begin. Carefully pour in cloudy lemonade and ginger beer down the side of the glass leaving the grenadine sitting in the bottom, add juice of a lime and finish the drink with a shot of Spiced Rum to the top.

To serve place drink on a saucer and place the measure of overproof rum around the base, light with a match and allow guest to flick cinnamon onto the drink/flame, extinguish, add straw and serve. Anyone looking to get drunk can drink the rum left in the saucer when cool.

“A civilized man has power over fire. A refined man handles fire with finesse: DEVIL’S KISS.” -Fink Manufacturing advertisement