Easy Subjugation

Literary Section XVI - Stonetell

2010-12-16T05:29:00.000+02:00

Well, I have not written here in months (since June in fact) and I am finding it difficult to delegate subjects and most importantly, find time to write in any of my three blogs. I do update them from time to time but the fact of the matter is that I am not writing nowhere near half of what I want.

At any rate, rummaging through my files I found a piece of poetry written during a more depressing time but still, halfway decent, so I decided to post it here and see what happens. If, at some point, I manage to organize my time and ideas in a more effective fashion, there is plenty to write about. Until then, enjoy (I hope).

Stonetell

Always there,
going nowhere
There I lie
as hours, days and years go by

Down the path that's crooked
down the path that's just
down the path that's marked
or down the path you're lost

Always there,
going nowhere
There I lie
as hours, days and years go by

Stay a moment and upon me gaze
or in haste pass me by,
in happiness's rosy haze
or in sadness as you cry

Always there,
going nowhere
There I lie
as hours, days and years go by

Rest upon me smiling
or wash me in your tears
let me hear your laughter ring
or have me share in your fears.

Always there,
going nowhere
There I lie
as hours, days and years go by

Remember or forget me,
here I lie unmoved
unless by another's hand removed
Roll as thunder or strike like lightning,
to silence I return
to wait at another road's turn
Love or hate me,
here I remain
to be well met or never again

Praise or scorn
little difference does it make
with each passing season's morn,
waiting for Death your life to take

Always there,
going nowhere
There I lie
as hours, days and years go by
for I am but a stone
that stands alone
as travelers come and go by
waiting for my own time to die.

Cheers,

Speedgrapher

A Life Carved in Music

2010-06-23T20:14:00.003+03:00

I now I have not written for some time now and actually this is a poor excuse for a post but it's the best I have time for right now. Actually it was stolen from Ellie-imouto who something/somehow/somewhere also found it froma different source, if I understood correctly.

Choose only song names from ONE ARTIST to cleverly answer these questions. Try not to repeat a song title. It's a lot harder than you think!

Pick your Artist: Nightwish

Are you a male or female?: 10th Man Down
Describe yourself: Nemo
How do you feel?: Dead to the World
Describe where you currently live: Over the Hills and Far Away
If you could go anywhere, where would you go?: Away
What is your job?: The Escapist
Your favorite form of transportation: Walking in the Air
Your best friend was/is: Wishmaster
You and your friends are: Stargazers
What's the weather like?: Planet Hell
Favorite time of day: Sleeping Sun
If your life was a TV show, what would it be called?: Sleepwalker
What is life to you?: FantasMic
Your relationship: Ever Dream
Your Fear: End of All Hope
What is the best advice you have to give?: While Your Lips Are Still Red
Thought for the Day: I Wish I Had An Angel
How I would like to die: Dead Gardens
My soul's present condition: Dark Chest of Wonders
My motto: Bless the Child

Favorite song by this artist: Ghost Love Score

If nothing else, at least I had an excuse to listen to all my old favorite songs and even check the far and few between of the new Nightwish that are worth it.

Cheers,

Speedgrapher

Timelines and Lifelines

2010-03-21T22:04:00.006+02:00

This post was written on the 2nd of February, 2010, but after I had written it, it all suddenly seemed too real, too personal to share. It has now become a small tale and I feel comfortable relating it.

So... I DID go to "Makari" on Sunday and well I did, it seems... It's very peculiar, when the things you believe in and have somehow shoved to the very back of your head, seem to assert their presence, their reality and words seem to fail you - or if not, you stumble over them trying to say what you think and ending up sounding weird, at the very least...

I got there very early, at 20:00, when our three hostesses for the night would not be coming until 20:30 and the event scheduled to start at 21:00. I went inside to check anyway. I must confess, I had not gotten around to writing the story I was (at the time, only probably) going to tell in full. Sure, I had the outline, some specific phrases, characters and all that but still, I was nervous and not very focused on my surroundings. So I saw this - well, I am not sure "girl" is appropriate anymore - young woman who seemed somehow familiar and my twitching brain decided I must have seen here working there last time. So naturally I asked whether any of the Daughters had come by yet, to which she replied all naturally "no", so I thought my assumption was right. Then she begun to ask, I interrupted and the following dialog ensued:

"Do you have anything to do with..."

"The Daughters? Well, I watched their show here last time and Vassilia--"

"No, no. I was going to ask, did we go to school together?"

I am now convinced my mind is hard-wired like a file-storage (which is kind of scary, if you think about it carefully), since her face was placed in a completely different context within moments, breaths. I hadn't seen her in... 10 years? No, wait... we bumped into each other once 8 years ago, somewhere around my neighborhood, but that was it. Her name popped into my head. I uttered it; tentatively. She reciprocated. We were both dumbstruck. She asked if I was staying for the show, I said I was, but I would return when the Daughters arrived and then promptly rushed out.

Only much later did I realize in how much shock I had been. I am not sure why. Sure, we shared a bit of history but just a bit: mostly common friends with whom I was in the school Acting Club, common anecdotes, a few events that became anecdotes over the years or were completely forgotten by most and swept away like so much dust by the winds of time. Truth be told, at times, when I sift through my old papers, letters, memorabilia, photos, I bring to mind the people I have known, sometimes connected with - or not - and I always get this image of lifelines, threads of each person's history, forming a mess of patterns, a network which, more often than not, leaves me watching at the lives diverge, extend into the distance, presumably, maybe, never to intersect again. I remember thinking, once, maybe 5 or 6 years ago, that I would probably never see many of these people, who I still remembered as children - barely teenagers though they may have been 18 the last time I saw them - and they, over time, would probably forget we had ever met. She was among them.

But somehow, one of those threads I had watched disappear into the distance, as well as my own, intersected with so many others, took so many turns, twisted in so many different shapes, that in a roundabout, unexpected, unforeseeable way, they intersected again in the most unlikely (from a pragmatic standpoint) and yet most fitting manner: in a place where tales are told... And she had not forgotten we had ever met; and for no reason at all - none that I know how to put into words, certainly - I was deeply moved by that meeting, moved into a state of shock, so much that I simply had to get out of there, collect my thoughts, try to put them in order between having to tell a decent tale and... and... making sense of that strange feeling that time and happenstance are things we really understand so very little about.

As to the gathering itself, nothing I say will do justice to the good mood of the congregation, the beautiful tales of the Daughters, the warm reception of my own, strangely (given the events I just described) a tale having to do with time and how it treats us like we treat it, the amazing tale and storytelling of Mr. George, who took us from Kypseli to Harun Al-Rashid'd Baghdad and back again in one fell swoop, as well as my old friend from school and one of her band-mates singing at the very end.

It was a night to remember and for all the reasons I don't seem to be able to put it into words, a night to be grateful for.

Perchance to dream,

Speedgrapher

The Daughters Strike Again

2010-01-28T21:20:00.003+02:00

Hey there people: long time no see again, in either blog and sadly this is not about to change soon, since I have finally swamped myself beyond all (forthcoming) hope. However, I am popping in to inform you about a couple of things, before retreating back to my cave.

First-off, though it might be not anything sensational, my short story - titled "The Gift of Mordor" - for the Greek Tolkien Society contest, came in second (and that was almost 3 weeks ago but I thought I' d show off anyway).

Secondly and more importantly, remember The Daughters of Fable storytelling group? Well, they are back with another show, at the same location (Makari Music Scene - 125, Zoodohou Pigis St., Exarheia, Athens - easier access from Alexandras Ave.), this Sunday the 31st of January. Furthermore, they will suffer me to join in the storytelling, which makes me a little nervous but I hope I will be able to provide some small measure of entertainment.

Yours truly,

Speedgrapher

The Cat's Predilection [#2]

2010-01-06T22:47:00.004+02:00

Since the last post was a bit grim and possibly disheartening for many, I am posting the second gastronomical entry, after a very long time (5 months in fact). This concerns a series of beverages which I have seen called 6th Sense or Sappe. It's a large variety of transparent liquids, artificially flavored with all sorts of ersatz fruit, like apple, green apple, grapes, coconut and cranberry (or black currant). The main feature of this drink is its containing little cubes of aloe vera plant, which you consume as you imbibe it (note: no, the cubes do not show inside the bottle as on the site's page).

I first came across this drink with Ergo Proxy (remember, once co-author of this blog?) and our mutual friend Cavu, while gathering a few supplies for an excursion to Katsimidi (an area near Mt. Parnitha) on My 23rd 2009. That first time, it was apple and grapes, with the apple tasting great and the grapes being a little too sweet for my tastes.

It would seem that the original two tastes were put out by Sappanan General Food and the 6th Sense ones (all the others) by A-1 Produce. Although the bottles are almost identical, the labels differ and as both companies are Thai in origin, I suspect product infringement. As further testimony to this, although the 6th Sense ones have the company's name in miniscule letters on the label, the site actually makes no mention of them. Best to stay away from those: they taste horribly anyway. However, if you do come across the original apple one, pictured here, give it a try.

As a final note, no, I do not know what the Hell they were thinking when they decided on the bottle shape...

On New Year Resolutions

2010-01-03T02:57:00.006+02:00

Hello dear readers, assuming you are out there somewhere and not having some decent fun before the working days strike back. I have been... away, on many levels, both from the internet (well, except for the occasional announcement here and there) and my usual haunts in real life and there are many, complex and rather murky reasons for this, so I will refrain from busting your chops with them.

I see that most, if not all of the blogs I read have pitched some wishes, a Christmas post and so on and so forth. I did not, not only because of my recent mood, but because I have experienced quite a bit of death during Christmas vacation over the last 15 years (yes, my memory from when I was 12 is still sharp - mixed blessings I guess), so this celebration is not as magic as it used to be for me. Don't take me wrong, I do wish for my friends and loved ones (well, myself too but I know it will take more than wishful thinking) to have a good year and certainly a better one that 2009 was (it was rather good for me in fact but I know it wasn't for many, much less so for our poor - and currently almost officially - backwater country), but I don't really get into the festive mood as such.

It was a rather good Christmas for me, as far as the last decade goes, which translates into nothing more than having my family mostly healthy, getting together with some good friends more often than usual and playing board games late into the night and early into the morning: believe me, it's richer than it sounds, much richer but impossible to understand until you have felt it as I have.

One of the things I find extremely amusing and terribly ridiculous, at the same time, are "New Year's Resolutions". Before I go on, let me tell you that my own resolution, as such, was to get a new bookcase before January 1st, which I did on the 31st of December and had half-built by the time we went out for our New Year's dinner. The second step was to rearrange everything in my room to get more space, which I also finished today. Therefore, I have achieved what I resolved to do for 2010! I sense impending mix of sneer, disbelief and "oh, come on, don't be like that!". Well, let me tell you something: statistically speaking (for there will always be exceptions, totally insignificant in the larger picture), those fabled resolutions are nothing more than ritual, in both senses. Culturally, they are part of the Christmas "ceremony", which includes caroling, each country's Christmas sweets, adorning the tree and eating pudding (over here it's "Vassilopita"), among others. Psychologically, it's something people do to reassure themselves that they will have goals, improve their lives and "make everything better" (much like people suffering from OCD).

Truth of the matter is, those resolutions are almost 100% bollocks or, if you like, simply wishful thinking. Resolving to get thinner, get a girlfriend, find true love, get laid, married or reach the top of the [insert cultural reference here, or don't] world, almost invariably has nothing to do with the events in your life for the following year, except perhaps until Valentine's day, when one of the more popular resolutions crumbles down (see here and here). So stop "resolving" and making bold statements, to yourself or others. Dreaming and hoping is all good, but once every while you should just get your head down from the clouds, take a long, hard look at your world as it truly is and not as you wish it to be, and then keep moving until you get to a better place. That's all there is to it.

Here's to having a good year, to all of you,

Speedgrapher

"Humanity's Silence": The Third Prometheus Installment

2009-12-12T12:55:00.003+02:00

Prometheus returns in my third detective story, "Humanity's Silence", the second to be dramatized for radio (the first, if you recall, was "Bloody Carnival"). With narration by Dimitris Poulikakos and direction/production by Adelle Mermiga, the story will air on the Greek 902 FM station (you can also listen online, if you visit the site) on Monday, December 14th 2009, at 21:00 (you may have to allow for some delay), as part of "Cops & Robbers"'s Season 3.

This time, death comes a' calling at a private school and a new character from the standard roster of the investigator's universe is introduced to the public for the very first time.

As always, I hope you can listen and give me your feedback. Also, the standard readers of this blog may notice something familiar inside the story.

Cheers,

Speedgrapher

Celluloid Vampires and Then Some - Part 2

2009-12-11T14:56:00.008+02:00

Ah... It HAS been a while, has it not? The first part of this post was waaaaay back here and even now I am skipping much-needed work hours to complete this but it was about bleedin' time!

Last time, we had left off with an introduction - well, rather a simple mention - to the TV series, "True Blood". In the interim, I have learned a few interesting things about the source material and have had time to digest my initial thoughts. But I digress...

"True Blood"'s first season premiered on September 7th, 2008 in the U.S. and the second on June 14th, 2009 . A third season has been scheduled and shooting is due to begin in early December 2009. The series kicks off by canceling a basic premise of most, if not all Vampire fiction: the element of secrecy. Our story takes place in a world where Vampires have made their presence officially known to humanity, on which they no longer need feed thanks to an artificial blood product created by Japanese scientists. Expectedly, some Vampires have embraced this change, others not, the textbook Catholic Right-Wingers have created the Church of Light in order to oppose acceptance of the Vampire existence, while the Vampires have created their own political party. Meanwhile, the first mixed marriages take place and homosexual weddings rapidly seem so "yesterday".

Interestingly enough, the series obviously takes place some time AFTER the initial global shock, so Vampires are semi-integrated into society, no more outcasts than other fringe minorities (are they one?) were in the 90s or still are today. Ergo, useless drama avoided. However, all that is just background.

Our story actually begins in Bon Temps ("Good Weather" or "Good Times" depending on how you translate), a small fictional Louisiana town, bearing all the distinctive marks of the "beautiful South" of novels of yore: those who stand for segregation, those who are well past concepts of the Civil War, Cajun, creole language, humidity, the bayous, time passing by in slow motion and drawn-out vowels. Incidentally, this most telling linguistic characteristic is one of the cultural strengths and marketing flaws (well, outside the U.S. as far as I know, but still) of the series. Many people have told me how much they hate the Southern American pronunciation and accent, as well as that, English not being their native language, they have to make use of subtitles to understand the characters at all, at times.

Truth be told, it's not really that bad, although even I had to go a bit back at times and replay a dialog scene. However, it doesn't annoy me: although both inside and outside the U.S. it's habitually called "the hillbilly accent", I believe it adds excellent color to the feel of the setting. Of course, that opinion may be biased, seeing as Poppy Z. Brite's "Lost Souls" is one of my favorite Vampire books and the American South one of my favorite settings for horror and/or detective stories ("Call of Cthulhu: Guide to New Orleans" is one of my priceless books).

At any rate, at the beginning and for most of the first season the story revolves around Sookie Stackhouse, played by Anna Paquin (who also portrayed southern belle Rogue, of the X-Men), who is a waitress at Sam Merlotte's (pronounced "mur-low" and played by Sam Trammel) diner and is different from everyone else in only one significant way : she is telepathic and can hear everyone's thoughts in the vicinity, unless she closes her mind with great effort. Things are about to get a lot weirder for her when she falls for Vampire newcomer William Compton (played by Stephen Moyer), whose family had roots in Bon Temps since before the Civil War. As soon as Sookie decides that Bill is the one for her (firstly, because she cannot hear his thoughts, since he has no biological brain activity), she is dragged in a world of supernatural horror, intrigue, romance and lots and lots of sex.

Tara, both naive...

...and sexy!

I do not want to dwell on the story that much, since it is very well plotted and it would be a shame to spoil it, even by accident: season one is centered around a series of murders in and around Bon Temps, as well as Sookie's and the town's relationship with Bill Compton, while the second focuses much more on Tara, Sookie's best friend and one of the most gorgeous black women I have ever seen (portrayed excellently by Rutina Weasley), as well as the intrigues and politics between Vampires themselves and between them and the Church of Light. However, the people who steal the show in the second season are the mysterious Mary-Ann, Godrick who is a Vampire from before the time of Christ, as well as a the whole of Bon Temps having gone a bit wild.

Vampire Sherriff Eric Northman.

Mary-Ann.

Now, there are a number of things that place this series very near the top of my list of Vampire interpretations ever: first off, the Vampire mythos is preserved - silver harms a Vampire and may immobilize them, a stake through the heart and sunlight can kill them, although what exactly happens to their bodies depends on age. Interestingly enough and to my delight, they have also kept the restriction whereby a Vampire has to be welcomed into a domicile before entering, something almost always forgotten in modern portrayals. Many other Vampire legends are shown as being misdirection for the humans.

An element often mentioned in discussions about "True Blood", is the sex: make no mistake, anyone who has seen even 2-3 episodes of the series can testify that there is a lot of sex in it. Not particularly explicit, mind you but still, quite a bit of it, especially for an American series. However, the thing considered peculiarly prevalent only goes to show how audiences have come to perceive the "reality" of series they watch: people have sex. Lovers, even more so. Lovers famished for sexual activity, well, you can guess. The series is being realistic about that, contrary to stupid bubblegum sitcoms that only hint at it, or present it under a comedic light.

Furthermore, it has been a staple of Vampire legendry that the Children of the Night are more animalistic than humans, in every aspect, hence blurring the line between blood prey and sexual prey, as well as that a mortal tasting of the Vampire's blood develops a strong attraction and eventual sexual desire for the "donor". All that, coupled with the fact that sexual activity is - well, duh! - something natural, accounts for the multiple such portrayals in the series.

One other thing very carefully planned and played in "True Blood" is not just the portrayal, but the reference to and existence of the supernatural in general. Vampires aren't the only ones around: there' s also Shifters (people able to assume any form they can study thoroughly), frequent mention (although not appearance, as of yet) of Werewolves, Spirits, Voodoon and of course, the small matter of what exactly makes Sookie telepathic. However, all that is not just shoved into the viewer's face, like some bad RPG crossover: instead there' s hints and nuances and things you can second-guess, until appropriate build-up leads to the climax and revelation. Things DO go bump in the night but that does not mean they are too keen to enter the spotlight: they are mysterious and scary and love their privacy... mostly. Coupled with the whole southern atmosphere, that makes for an enticing, shadowy and extremely interesting setting.

Godrick.

Finally, there's the matter of the source material, "The Southern Vampire Mysteries" by Charlaine Harris. I am sorry to say, those are actually pretty bad: apart form the cast of characters (which has also been tinkered as to some characteristics and back-story), it's safe to say that if Alan Ball (of "American Beauty" and "Six Feet Under" fame) had not helmed the production, this series would have sunk like so much junk. Although Charlaine Harris is at the origin of an interesting take on the interaction between Vampires and mortal society, her original character and story development are rather shallow and her writing not up to the ambitious task of all I have described in the previous paragraphs. I do not want to get into detail, because it may have an adverse effect on your watching the series, but if you are indeed that curious, you can always pick the first two novels (on which the last two seasons were based) and make the comparison. I believe you will find the novels lacking appalingly.

Godrick's First Appearance.

That said, "True Blood" as a TV series is the most refreshing experience of the Vampire legend in a loooong time and I believe that there is not much (if anything) that can hold a candle to it in the past 10 years. Possible exceptions include "Let the Right One In" and I am holding my breath for "Cirque du Freak: The Vampire's Assistant".

Enjoy the bayous,

Speedgrapher

Literary Section XV - Odd and the Frost Giants

2009-12-08T01:34:00.009+02:00

It's time for another book review, since I finally managed to get yet another off the ever-growing pile and man, was it a much needed distraction during the current phase of my life! This book, Neil Gaiman' s "Odd and the Frost Giants" (Bloomsburry) was not part of my oft-described book raids, nor the prize of some literary quest: sometimes, good things just lie in front of you and I noticed the single copy of it on a shelf at the Solaris book store, where I often buy comics.

To begin with, the book is nothing fancy, nor does it need to be: it is a small, almost pocket-size hardbound, the way libraries tend to do old (but not very old) books, when their original paperback covers breathe their last due to wear and tear. The cover and back-cover are essentially stickers. There is however, one major bonus: Brett Helquists's illustrations (of "A Series of Unfortunate Events" fame), which are really top grade and give a great feel to the reading.

The story is rather simple: Odd, a boy who accidentally crushed his leg and remained lame, has to contend both with the fact that his constant smiling face irritates his countrymen, as well as the heavy winter which doesn't seem eager to give way to Spring. The days at the Great Hall draw long, the men get restless and aggressive and Odd has had enough of being a burden to his mother after she remarried when her husband died, enough of being invisible in a village where nothing changes.

Therefore, he takes to the woods and stays at his father's old wood cabin, until a strange fox comes calling: the fox will initially lead him to an eagle and a bear, which meeting will in turn take him to Asgard, home of the Gods, in order to lift the Frost Giant occupation and end the long winter of Midgard. His only weapons: an irritating, unflinching smile, an unfinished wood carving his father left behind and the icy waters of a strange lake...

The book is written much like a traditional fable, where things happen because they are bound to, with a sense of inevitability towards resolution, but also with the unmistakable Gaiman-touch.

It is light reading, pleasant and comforting to the eye, a thing that smells of fireplace and old carpets, where children squat to listen to grandfather's near-hypnotic voice.

Jouni Koponen's first page of
Chapter 2.

On some other interesting notes, Gaiman wrote it for UK's World Comic Book Day (you can read Gaiman's explanation about all that here) and it seems to have sparked a number of artistic interpretations all over the net, such as Hethe Srodawa's designs and Finnish illustrator Jouni Koponen's gradual transfer to comic book form (you MUST check it out: it begins here and she posts updates every now and then, so keep clicking that "Uudempi teksti").

Cheers,

Speedgrapher

Good TV...

2009-12-05T02:21:00.004+02:00

...there WAS such a thing in Greece you know; once. Anyone who knows me above and beyond a casual greeting, knows I hold the 80s and early 90s close to my heart, because they featured some of the best children programs ever to air in Greece, not least among them foreign cartoons that were subtitled and NOT translated (except "The Smurfs", "Les Mondes Engloutis" and the Japanese stuff). I learned my first English (and quite a bit of it too) from "Blackstar", "He-Man", "She-Ra", the "Thundercats" and "Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles".

However, as the 90s wore on, cartoons were moved much earlier in the morning and a number of other shows started appearing, featuring mostly comedy, slapstick or otherwise, lots of parody based on current news, as well as the first Greek sitcoms, executed in the rich theatrical tradition of our country - we did not know otherwise and man... it was actually really, really good!

Let me do a bit of recapping: after a rather long and kind of unpleasant day, my parents and I went to get stuffed, in which endeavor we succeeded and which event chemical letdown and lethargy follow. When we got back home, the net was acting up and I was too drowsy to read, so I resorted to zapping through some TV channels, which I rarely do any more, unless I watch Discovery Channel, National Geographic or FOX Life on the satellite. Don't get me wrong: I watch TV series on the PC, but Greek TV is 95% trash (including many newscasts). However, this time I stumbled on what one of the regular channels (and I believe, the first private one in Greece) calls "Friday All-Nighters".

It's actually reworked footage from a number of old MEGA Channel series and shows, around different themes, for the celebration of 20 years since the channel's founding. Besides still being infinitely entertaining and genuinely funny, the footage made me notice something, mostly because of its lack in today's shows: the people doing them were having fun. It's right there, not just on their faces, but in their liveliness and creativity: pure, truckloads of fun. The reason why these shows still evoke the same feeling, fresh as ever, is because the people making them had put their hearts in there, much unlike pretty much everything (with a few notable exceptions that confirm the rule) produced for Greek TV today.

I haven't much more to say: our current standard TV fare is mostly imported and adapted trash, like reality shows (thank God that trend finally passed), gossip shows "talent" shows and pointless political yammering talk-shows, mostly devoid of meaning. However, it seems TV WAS once fun, as much making it as it was watching it.

Past perfect,

Speedgrapher

Daughters of Fable

2009-11-24T17:02:00.008+02:00

Myths, legends, fairy tales, in fact any sort of narration would fall under the "fable category", as the word originates in the Latin "fabula" ("story") and that in turn from "fari" ("to speak"). However, through centuries of mutations, unfathomable linguistic mechanisms and that wild factor known as "the human condition", what we call fable today is a fictional story (whether based on long forgotten facts or not), handed down for centuries through oral tradition until it reached our day, passing through Gutenberg' s era to be, finally, widely recorded on and transmitted through paper.

We like fables: one could even argue that, before we are exposed to the rigors and cynicism of our world, we are genetically predisposed to like them. We like to be put to sleep by a gentle voice recounting tales of kingdoms, oh so far away and be convinced to eat in order to grow strong like those we see as our mythic counterparts. Fables, though they may change form, medium (is it pure coincidence that the game "Fable" has been one of the most successful games to be produced in recent years?) and their apparent popularity may also seem to fluctuate, but at the end of the day, a fable properly prepared and presented will always win our hearts, much like Bill Willingham's "Fables" (in my opinion the only ever worthy rival of Neil Gaiman's "The Sandman").

Yes, we like, we love fables and make no mistake: some love them even to the point of actively trying to preserve the tradition of oral storytelling, reminding us why Aesop and Homer ended up being taught in schools. Three such people are the Daughters of Fable of this post's title, a.k.a. Vassilia Vaxevani, Antonia Velliou and Iphigenia Kakridoni (actually, if I have understood the meaning of their ensemble's name, "Talespinners" may have been a more appropriate translation in the cultural context, but I elected to use the other one all the same, as I am a great fan of puns).

I first met Vassilia as the newest member of Comicdom.gr, when I returned from one of my prolonged cases of Houdini Syndrome. During the course of several discussions, she mentioned that "she was attending lessons and was working on her thesis", when she had already told me she was a teacher. Turns out, she has been attending the "Narration School" of the Center for Study and Propagation of Myths and Fables! I was dumbstruck. There was such a thing?! Not only is there such a thing, but they are holding a Narration Festival around "Magic and the Supernatural World" in Athens, from the 18th to the 20th of December 2009, at the Traditional Greek Art Museum. Make sure to check it out!

Back to the main subject, Vassilia invited me to one of the Storytelling Nights of the Daughters of Fable, titled "The Wiles of Men and Women" (at Makari Music Scene - 125, Zoodohou Pigis St., Exarheia, Athens), featuring fables from Arabia, Russia, Africa, Spain (I think) and perhaps a couple whose origin I cannot deduce. Not only did the three young women have very different styles (by strictly personal judgment, I have dubbed Antonia the "Dark Spinner", Iphigenia the "Rosy Romantic" and Vassilia the "Daydreamer" - although you must bear in mind that this was after watching them only once), but during the African tale of the Lioness and the Turtle they incorporated members of the audience as the key characters of the story.

All in all, it was a very entertaining and fun 2 hours, which unearthed this warm and fuzzy feeling inside me, reminding me of summers long ago, when we would gather around a beach fire and talk of Todd the Gray, or in a small room with a hookah and tell the tale of Weasel's triumphs and laments...

Keep dreaming,

Speedgrapher

P.S. I took two pictures of the Daughters that night and although they seemed OK on the camera's miniscule screen, it turned out that in full size they were a blurry mess... Someone's lens needs some serious cleaning, pronto!

Literary Section - News II: Ahmes, Moonchild

2009-11-19T23:48:00.007+02:00

Today is a big day, since my father's second book, "Ahmes, Moonchild" came out (before moving any further, I must stress that this book is in Greek and the aforementioned is my own translation of the original title, "Αχμές, ο Γιός του Φεγγαριού") by Polis Publishing.

It is a purely fictional account of the life of Ahmes, the first Mathematician in history to be known by name, having signed the famous Rhind Scroll (named after the Scottish archaeologist who found it, Henry Rhind), a collection of 84 solved mathematical problems, sometime around 1600 BC.

Besides giving a plausible account of how, why and when Ahmes compiled the scroll containing the sum of mathematical knowledge of his time, the book tells the colorful tale of how he was found by Pianki, one of the Royal Hunters, how he was raised by him and his beautiful wife, Tadinanefer, as well as of his friendship with orphaned Amanthys, a Minoan boy whom the evil whims of merciless pirates, through the merciful winds of fate, landed in Egypt. More than that, it's the account of his journey through life, towards an accomplishment that will seem monumental more than two-score centuries later, preserved by one pale, sickly man.

I would not say more. The book is an adventure on two levels: on one hand, it's the life adventure of two friends who survived and were brought together by providence and on the other, the adventure of learning, discovery and knowledge. Although any reader worth their salt will see the bias of a son writing about his father's book, I still believe that, had I not enjoyed it, I may have not written this post.

Although the book is in Greek, I have faith that it will be successful enough to be translated in English, like his previous one, "Pythagorean Crimes" (English edition by Parmenides Publishing) was. Meanwhile, you can take my word for it or, if you can read Greek, visit my father's blog for a peek.

Cheerio,

Speedgrapher

Thou Shall Not Steal, Terms and Conditions Apply

2009-11-06T15:27:00.007+02:00

Hello again: well, this is another post to fill in while waiting for the one being prepared, but I believe no less interesting. It concerns "Fast Forward Magazine" (well, ROMzine actually, since it's in DVD form) and its "Street Art Issue", that is the one before the current "Asta Na Pane Issue".

The DVD is distributed free and I came by it coincidentally, while out shopping for - what else - books and comics. Seeing as most free material of this kind is usually not worth bothering with (and to me, street art is pretty to look at but it also reminds me how badly I suck at drawing anything), I left it lying around my room for quite some time. Then, a few months back, during a routine clean-up of miscellaneous and obsolete stuff, I was checking anything lying on my desk, before deciding whether I should chuck it in the recycle bin or not. Finally, I inserted the DVD in the PC's drive.

It just goes to show that the old adage concerning rules and exceptions still holds true: "Fast Forward" was anything BUT a disappointment and it currently resides safely on my DVD shelf. The funny thing is: its title material was probably the least interesting to me, whereas a fantastic documentary, by Steal This Film Project, conspicuously titled "Steal This Film", completely won me over.

Contrary to what the title might imply, the film does not stick to the matter of piracy, file-sharing etc. alone, but instead it goes on to do an analysis of modern information dissemination, a historical review of the reaction to any new popular medium and/ or method of information sharing and duplication. Furthermore, it generally does a very interesting overview of this whole issue, its origins, the wrong handling which backfired on the related industry and much more.

I watched it in one breath and naturally, I then dug through every corner of the rest of the DVD:
movie and video-game trailers, a paint-ball feature, shotgun comics reviews by Makis Katalifos of Jemma Books and Comics, a short film about last year's Torture Garden at Second Skin and of course, graffiti. I also liked the simple, functional 3D interface very much.

In the end, I believe I will become a loyal reader (or is it watcher, in this case?) of the team's material and try to track down their previous issues (the new one is already out, from what I see on their official site). Furthermore, lots of material from all the issues can be found in the archive, so make sure to check it out.

Unfortunately, I suppose "Steal This Film" was just too huge to put on there but you could always check the project's official website (link a few paragraphs up) and help promote their way of thinking, if you agree with it.

Cheers,

Speedgrapher

Cultural Priorities

2009-11-05T00:40:00.011+02:00

I have been trying forever to write the second part of Celluloid Vampires and Then Some, and it just keeps getting bigger and bigger, so I thought I would relate an experience I had today, instead, since the Dogtooth post has been on there for a month and a half.

As seems to have become customary, today I spent quite a bit of money compulsively and in rapid succession but I am more than happy with what I got: first I went to the Solaris comic store to buy some bags and boards for my comic issues and then I spotted "The Art of Osamu Tezuka: God of Manga" by Helen McCarthy. Aside from being a huge, beautifully made book also featuring a DVD documentary as an extra, I realized it was much more than just an artbook: actually it's an Osamu Tezuka encyclopedia, featuring a biography, photographic material not just from his manga but also his life, from childhood, and adolescence, his time as mangaka and animator and up to his death and beyond. There's an (I think) exhaustive list of characters and their multiple uses and appearances, his works in chronological order, as well as a ton of analysis on it, positive and negative commentary and lots and lots more! I believe it's worth every cent of the 40 euros I paid for it.

Later on, I met with Kyoshiro and some other friends for coffee (well, chocolate milk-shake for me, for which I was sorely criticized) and Kyoshiro had brought me a little thing of beauty bought from eBay, the complete "Blackstar" from Filmation!!! Just to be clear, "Blackstar" first aired in 1981 and for many, perhaps including the company itself, it was merely the dry run before "He-Man". In comparison to virtually anything created in Japan during the same period, it's more than primitive in every way (imagine that "Captain Harlock" and "Candy Candy" were put into animation before the 80s). However, it has been a piece of nostalgia which has completely eluded my grasp for the better part of a decade (I have never been good with sites such as eBay, so buzz off). Not on the internet as a torrent, not in any local store, not on any of the usual sites for such purchases and when even collections of "He-Man" and "Thundercats" started appearing, and it still remained nowhere in sight, I had lost all hope of ever seeing it again. Yet, I finally have all 13 episodes in my hands and have already watched the first two (geek's guilty pleasures).

Still, I have not yet made it to my actual point. Even later on, I visited a Metropolis (now multi-store) on Panepistimiou Ave. in search of a book by Neocles Galanopoulos (a Greek writer along with whom we were featured among the 14 writers of "Ecocrimes" anthology), titled "Death Out of Nowhere" (Topos Editions). Entering the store, much to my surprise, I was met by the sound of brutal vocals and metal music, rather more loud than any other time I have happened to visit the store (not that I have ever heard black metal played in every floor simultaneously at any of these stores, but regardless).

Though I generally hate brutal vocals and have serious problems with death and / or black metal being labeled as "music", what I was hearing was not in fact so bad (the female back vocals and the occasional somber reciting did help), although of course I did not understand a word of it during the main body of the songs. At any rate, while searching for the book I came across some of the labeled "Ground Floor Offers": among them was a complete series of books from Penguin Editions, reprinting somewhere in the neighborhood of 80 books which gave birth to the great ideas of humanity, from Plato, Seneca, Lao Tzu, Darwin, Henry-David Thoreau, William Shakespeare, to George Orwell, Virginia Woolf, Fyodor Dostoyevski, Thomas More and many, many, inconceivably more for 5 euros each! After a very lengthy deliberation, I ended up choosing "Confessions of an English Opium Eater" by Thomas de Quincy and "Decline of the English Murder" by George Orwell. Believe me, it was a tough choice, made only harder by the fact that each book's appearance is designed to reflect its content, though they are all pocket-size).

The music was still gong strong. When I asked one of the employees a question and realized that he could not hear me, I was certain that something was off - there HAD to be a reason why that sort of music was being played at that volume... and then I saw them, just across the door connecting the two sections of the ground floor: hair uniformly long in both sexes, dyed black in abundance by the women, too much actual metal on all the people and blue-jeans. I could not understand for the life of me, what was all that metal crowd doing in the ground floor (that section is on the 1st floor and then again, you never see so many all at once these days). So I headed there to even find cameras and reporters directed to what I assumed was a metal band and merchandise for PS3 dubbed "Brutal Legends".

Finally, it hit me and a bit of looking around filled in any holes in my understanding: the black metal band from 1987, Rotting Christ, were proudly featured in the new expansion of "Guitar Hero", "Brutal Legends". That's what all the fuss was about...

After purchasing the book I had come for, as well as my other two selections, I still dug through the pile of Penguin's "Great Ideas" series and made probably unrealistic plans for buying all 80 of them sooner or later. The music was still on when I left. Now, I never liked Rotting Christ (although the HAVE gotten better since I last heard them in the late 90s) and I have already expressed my views on the particular sort of music, but that is not the point in and of itself: the point is, I saw all those literary masterpieces, cheap and beautifully printed... in an offers stack, with barely three people (myself included) stooping to dig through the pile, while some Greek black metal band featured in a video-game was suddenly sensational news. Though I have not fully digested what that implies, I can be certain of one thing: at that moment, as I was leaving, I felt ill.

What are your thoughts?

Speedgrapher

Dogtooth

2009-09-27T03:29:00.009+03:00

At the time this is being written, I am still processing the things I saw in George Lanthimos's Movie, "Dogtooth" ("Kynodontas" in Greek). This movie can be watched on many levels: as a darkly humorous take on the traditional Greek family, as a psychological experiment conducted on the big screen "for our eyes only", but which experiment easily draws us in and in fact, experiments on our reactions to the contrasting imagery, or even as a collection of very disturbed and disturbing images which, in fact, show that a small measure of madness and misguided love of ideals, principles and the concept of family, can go a long way towards going down in the annals of human atrocity.

I may be getting ahead of myself here, but I really needed to get the movie's aforementioned analysis - being the ONLY analysis you will get on it from me - out of my head, so that I may leave it behind me and not be tempted to get into specifics, which would only ruin the viewing for you. I was given the opportunity to see this movie during Athens's Premiere Nights thanks to Kyoshiro who, being among the people who worked on it, was sent an invitation and took me along.

Left to right: Chris Passalis, Mary Tsoni, Chris Stergioglou
Angelica Pappoulia, George Lanthimos.

I have not gone to many movie premieres in my life, much less any of Greek movies, but what was taking place at DANAOS cinema was a complete first in my experience: a veritable sea of people were waiting inside and out of the cinema, filling its lobby and the sidewalk outside, to a degree that if you got caught somewhere in the middle, you simply stayed put until other people decided to move. I think the screening was actually delayed around an hour until every name and invitation had been sorted out, but it kind of reminded me of queues in Japan, where you wait leisurely around, talking and laughing, until something budges. I even saw a couple of people from my old schoolbus (!), whom I had not met with for around 10 years (I don't think they recognized me, but oh well...).

The siblings during a family celebration.

At any rate, as any of you who watch international cinema news (or simply, Greek news) know, "Dogtooth" won the award for the category "Un Certain Regard" in Cannes, the Special Jury Award in Sarajevo, and lead actress Angelica Pappoulia the "Heart of Sarajevo" for Best Actress. The reason is very simple: it's a good movie and by Greek standards over the last decade, a phenomenal one. Actors Chris Passlis, Angelica Pappoulia and Mary Tsoni play the role of three siblings, children of the eccentric parents portrayed by Chris Stergioglou and Michelle Valley.

Angelica Pappoulia.

Chris Passalis.

Mary Tsoni.

The father has decided to restrict his children within the boundaries of his estate, home-school them and raise them with the moral principles and linguistic predilections he deems appropriate. Their only contact with the outside world is the periodic visits by a security guard, Christina, portrayed by Anna Kalaitzidou. They are to remain within the boundaries of the estate, cut-off from all external stimuli, "until such time as they are ready to leave". What time is that? Well, suffice to say that it has something to do with the movie's title but this is as far as I am willing to venture...

Michelle Valley as the mother, reposing.

Although I believe that it's a movie really worth watching (when it premieres, around the last week of October), I must warn you that it is not for the faint of heart. No - and let me stress this - it is NOT a splatter movie, but the things it depicts and the way it depicts them will gut the soft underbelly of your sensitivity (unless of course you are clinically insane) and that WILL hurt. It's not a one-rail psychological abuse either: it is also funny at the most opportune moment, with the mood alternating until the climax is reached. That way it manages to draw you in and devour you, all but defenseless. In the end, above and beyond all the things this movie is and does, it demands that you think, that you process and digest it, rather than just consume it as is.

The Unknown beyond the hedge.

If you prefer more conventional terms, the movie has great acting in extremely difficult roles, great direction and alluring photography. It is a treat for the thinking person and poison to the mindless movie-goer. That is not to say that you are not allowed to not like it, but that the verdict is not to be issued lightly.

I hope you enjoy it,

Speedgrapher

P.S. I am being intentionally vague as to any details and have posted no links to reviews and such for a good reason, so I advise you to go and see the movie without having watched even a single trailer or teaser. Trust me, small as they are, they DO spoil important things that should take you by surprise.

Humanity's Deafening Silence

2009-09-09T12:19:00.015+03:00

"..."

"..."

"..."

The looks are sideways, the eyes never meet and when they do, the constant sensation of physical pain in the bowels that clench is only replaced by panicked heartbeat, labored breathing, even asthma. The jaws hurt, the teeth grind and lips turn white from pressuring anything and everything to stay bottled inside, not daring to let it escape even by a breath and when that breath is finally taken, it seems as though you have been underwater forever; and the cycle recommences.

Welcome to the new humanity, which silences itself to death and failing that, at the very least ulcers, depression and psychological derangement galore. The scene described above is typical of today's human relationships and before we take even the least step forward, let me clarify that I mean any and all relationships, those of a romantic or sexual nature being the least of our problems.

People do not talk, but you do not need me to tell you that: even the most forward of people must sometimes weigh the consequences of their actions before speaking their mind and that could even be called extremely healthy: most of you, most of us rather, for I am no exception, do not speak our minds nearly as often as we would like to, until we forget that we would like to and leave everything squeezed inside, building pressure and as any physicist worth their salt will tell you, eventually something' s gotta give. Time was when that was the deafening silence, which burst and ripped, leaving behind a bloody mess of raw emotion, revealed secrets and all manner of wet, sticky things we keep inside our shells - and which things, then visible, could be, in time, tidied, mopped up and eventually, when required, thrown away as so much waste. Now we harden our shells so much, foolishly thinking to protect ourselves and perhaps even others, which foolishness results in our insides festering, our psychology being imbalanced, our very bodies failing or working erratically.

Then, researchers, statisticians and simple people, usually of the older generations wonder: has youth gone crazy? Why do people kill themselves all the more often? Why is there so much depression and why are therapists (shrinks, for the TV minded) among the most lucrative of professions? Why are stable relationships so rare, marriages even rarer (in comparison to what it should be, given the Earth's current population) and casual, mindless sex on the rise? Hold on, no, even sex itself is not so widespread anymore, since people can wank off in front of their screens, be Don Juans and Marquises de Saad on MySpace, Facebook, MSN, or what-have-you.

Make no mistake: we live in fear. It is a fear of ourselves, engendered by a fear of others, of how we will seem, how we will be judged and we in turn judge others, either in offense or defense and so it all goes round and round. I assure you, it is a potentially mortal fear... I would know, for it nearly killed me once: I let myself be dragged into deceit, then join in a stagnant madness which was perceived as charming by all involved and in the end I could not stand being inside my own head, let alone my skin. For 9 months, all those years ago, I was a collection of psychological conditions, all masked under a big blanket of depression. You can run, but you absolutely CANNOT hide from yourself and in such cases you end up cloistered with yourself in a room without exit, for a very long time (time is not linear in thoughts and amazingly enough, something to that effect has been proven scientifically).

Thankfully, I am not self-destructive by nature, but there is a reason why we say: "run from one's problems". So I ran and ran... for miles each night, with cold, rain, even snow and at the same time I was not eating. True, it made for a very lean and muscled body, but my constitution started failing: I ended up with something very akin to pneumonia (I do not think it was actually that, since I never had to go to the hospital) and was bedridden for weeks. However, even that did not open my eyes. Sometimes, all we see is smoke and mirrors, endlessly, seemingly infinitely. Oddly enough, people were so afraid for me and so alienated by my behavior in general, that they started talking and by that time, they were quite blunt about how fucked up I was. I, on the other hand, am not one to share my burden with others: you could even say I am extremely possessive of it, so my response was, again, silence... I did not hear their words and had none of mine to offer.

However... as I said earlier, something' s gotta give and thankfully, once every now and then one is equipped with the tools to make a chink on the outer shell, before the insides melt. That was Ergo Proxy, who did not in fact try to contradict or convince me of anything: he simply shifted my focus and with such a minute change, suddenly all was clear. It was to be expected, not so much because he probably knew me better than anyone, but because he had been fucked up in much the same way a few years earlier.

The reason I am purposefully vague as to the details of WHAT drove me to such a state, is that I am trying to make a point concerning the internal processes and external results of human imbalance, rather than entertain you with colorful literature such as would make the story itself: the point is that, after that ordeal, I spent a year at the other end, as overly extrovert, even to the point of being callous and rude. I spoke my mind without a second though, I kept nothing inside and as a result the festering wound slowly sealed itself shut and left a prominent scar. The thing is, the boundaries of my freedom started overstepping the ones of those around me and they were usually too afraid to tell me so: on the rare occasions they did tell me, the answer was instantaneous.

"This is who I am, take it or leave me and no hard feelings. I will NOT apologize about who I am, but at least you know what you are getting."

Funny, isn't it? I did not purposefully hurt anyone around me, although when provoked I retaliated without restrain and in equal measure. Brutal candor, no mercy, no second thoughts. However, that savage freedom alienated people, as though Lovecraft's proverbial unknown had stepped into the light and had become known. It was reactionary you see: if the psyche can be perceived as an organism, mine had to get rid of all the poison and as fundamentally nothing is lost in the Universe, that poison had to go somewhere...

In the end, that too passed (thankfully, without any serious aberrations on my part) and I returned to a middle state, balanced, a bit numb, having to learn anew the steps of human interaction, without being guided by sorrow or rage. If anything is like a bicycle, which you never forget how to ride, it's this. So what did I get for my pains? Well, a handful of scars and hard lessons, but those I took to heart and the second time around they protected me very efficiently.

It all leads to this: we come into the world bloodied and screaming and a terrifying percentage of our greatest achievements were birthed by war, strife and death. We only learn through adversity, we get stronger through getting hurt, we learn how better to fight by being defeated... as many times as it takes. However, we also learn by listening and one cannot listen unless they are willing to reciprocate the act of directed speech. You should consider yourselves nothing short of blind, with your hands tied behind your back, your ears plugged, your mouth gagged, stumbling in the darkness and thus, in the unknown void your mind fills the emptiness with monsters. However, find another in the same situation and you might help each other undo your bonds, you might be shown another's image of fear and realize you are not alone. Realization leads to knowledge and knowledge, at some point, helps you find dry wood and stones, in order to make a fire, illuminate the fading terrors and ultimately, find an exit.

In the name of absolutely anything you hold to higher authority (if anything), speak, engage in dialog, let the demons of your mind out and have them dissipate instead of gestating them to the point that they torture you. If not, we have no hope: we are condemned to be autistic, petty, to feel disillusioned where our illusions were idiotic to begin with, to remain neurotic adolescents or deranged adults unto our deaths. The first step is to be honest with oneself for if not, there is no chance in Hell anyone could be honest with those around them. Take a long, hard look into the metaphorical (or even actual, although that is not mainly the point) mirror and don't shirk from the blemishes or the imperfections: you may not like them, but they are yours, they are the balance to your good side and I assure you, balance has been, is and will ALWAYS be served somehow: it's not philosophy, or religion - it's science, proven over and over again.

The whole of our existence (of our Universe's existence in fact), is balanced on the edge of a cosmic razorblade, a thing that seems so vastly absurd to be a coincidence, that scientists ruled it a necessity. Nor is it a coincidence that my favorite Tarot card is that of Temperance (14th of the Major Arcana, although I usually get the Hierophant or the Magician): we are no different than the Universe, only vastly smaller and we should remember to act like we are, as did our ancestors. It is time to break the silence with words.

Speak up,

Speedgrapher

The Cat's Predilection [#1]

2009-09-06T23:43:00.006+03:00

Anyone who has been reading this blog long enough will know that I have at least two very prevalent character flaws, although one tends to manifest discreetly and the other rather blatantly: the first one is pride, one of the 7 Deadly Sins and the second is curiosity, the cat's proverbial predilection, for which the feline species has been suitably equipped with 9 lives (or 7, as is the norm in Greek oral tradition).

At any rate, my curiosity usually gets me in more or less trouble (from tasting something disgusting, to getting beat up until I am blue), although there are times when I am rewarded with a new and interesting experience: mind you, that is usually something small, very rarely life-altering and often gotten over easily.

However, again as oral wisdom informs us, happiness is in the small things and the Devil is in the details, so I decided to periodically post over here something that I have tried and has left me with an impression, good or bad. Furthermore, everything I will post can be found over here in Greece, so the local readership will not have to go abroad in order to satisfy their curiosity, if so inclined. The vast majority of these things can most certainly be found abroad, so those of you not in Greece will probably have a good time laughing at what impresses the inhabitant of a country as small (and often quite backwards) as mine.

Here goes then: today's curiosity is a health soft drink by Whole Earth, which, according to the self-explaining can, is sparkling organic ginger. For those of you with a taste for Japanese food, ginger is that pink to orange (or even white) stuff that comes in very thin slices with your sushi and gives an intense feeling of eating cologne (come to think of it, this could have been another entry but oh well). This particular drink was offered to me back in March of 2008, by the owner of Jemma Press Publications, after a work meeting.

Although he was kind enough to warn me that it was rather spicy, I could not have been prepared for what I sloshed down my throat! Spicy was something of an understatement: you know how when something has too much carbonic acid (like some versions of Cola drinks) seems to burn your throat and give you hiccups? Well, this was like drinking flavored pepper extract, although it did not have so much carbonic acid as to give me hiccups (believe me, I do get them easily). The funny thing? I loved the stuff! Every time I went by the office and he had some around, I would unfailingly help myself to it. He informed me that it, along with some other counterparts from the same company, could be found at most Health Food stores.

The added bonus? It freshens your breath like you wouldn't believe. So, if you are around a Health Food Store, look it up: it might burn you but if you like spicy things, chances are you are going to love it.

Till next time,

Speedgrapher

Our Hearts Know No Restrain... [#2]

2009-07-29T00:36:00.013+03:00

I do not know if you remember the first post thus titled, since it has been a long time since... At any rate, the nights out with friends have grown increasingly fun over the months, even though their frequency may not be that high.

This particular one should normally go last, seeing as it is the most recent but really, I wanted to post it while it is still relatively fresh in the memories of all involved. While working on the "Science of Love" theatrical show, IndieAnn and I had noticed, on our way from a late-night rehearsal to the metro station of Kerameikos, a bar/club named the Eccentric Fox (which I have recently seen mentioned as Intrepid Fox): it seemed incredibly interesting, part semi-underground garage, part wire-fence cage and 100% cool feeling, its walls filled with posters of Iggy Pop, Black Sabbath, The Doors, The Beatles and even the 1922 "Nosferatu" film poster, among many many others. There were those of us among the SciCo troupe who had been talking about going for a wild night out drinking for ages, but had never got around to it. Seeing that place, IndieAnn and I thought it would be perfect.

That was sometime around March: even though we played the "Science of Love", prepared the "Science of Ecology", played it at the EcoLife Festival, we still hadn't managed to arrange the fabled night out, until the 18th of June, when we played "Science of Ecology" as part of the Fringe Festival. I have to tell you, playing for a very limited audience may have its perks (less fear of making mistakes, less noise, pressure, etc.) but oh, the vertiginous feeling of having tried so hard to put up a decent, quite complex theatrical show within 15-20 days and then facing the deafening echo of a near-empty hall... Let's face it: not very pleasant for most involved. For myself, besides the incredible advantage of being an insensitive bastard, I believe that the very first events of Ordre de Ciel at KABATZA were very instructing: 7 people, 2 of them the members of the (then) team, another 2 the barwoman and the manager and a grand audience of 3, myself included. Until we drew in the anime crowd (that is, for the span of around 4 months), that number never went over 15, so rather empty spaces do not really depress me. The presence of Mai-chan and Flexxy among the audience was quite enough for me, although there are very few things like the rush of a full house.

At any rate, the troupe was not really in the mood, it was our last show for the season and some had other plans. Thankfully, Nickolas (a member of the troupe who had to remain at the sidelines for "Science of Ecology" due to day-job demands - i.e. working on finishing his Ph.D.) was also there and one of our newest members, Julie, had friends waiting for her... at the Eccentric Fox! Therefore, absolutely refusing to listen to IndieAnn's excuses, finally a company consisting of Mai-chan, Flexxy, Nickolas, IndieAnn, Julie and her two friends, Tina and Eva, as well as yours truly, found itself at the much-discussed destination.

Interestingly enough, the DJ pair of the night was all set for 80s and 90s (and a bit of 70s) retro-action (well, for most of the night anyway, until they had gotten bored or tired and started the mixes from Hell) and we had Mai and Flexxy with us. Well, you will get the idea...

Nickolas, displaying his ticket for
"Science of Ecology"...

...here with IndieAnn and Julie.

Indie has serious issues with staying put for a
decent photo (I kill you!).

I mean, come on! Even I stayed put, although
I am probably the least photographed individual,
both for the practical reason of being behind
the camera, as well as the aesthetic one.

And we're not even drinking yet...

"Not for long...!"

Tina, who was very fond of my cane
and hat (that hat is insanely popular -
I could never beat it, even with a stick).
Did I mentioned I went there wearing
more or less my Hercule Poirot outfit
from the show (with the exception of the shirt)?

Mai-chan and Flexxy...

...who danced so hard that people
cleared some space to watch them!

Flexxy and myself, with Indie laughing her ass of
in the background. Right, brilliant...

Given that we were there to drink, I
simply HAD to acquaint some people
with the legendary "Bears"!
(A "Submarine" variation with
Beer, Tequila and Ursus - Ursus
goes first and the rest follow).

First one went to Flexxy...

...and the second, well... let's just say
that if Mai is a crazed dance-machine
when sober...

Three Crazed Belles: Julie, Eva
and Tina (Eva simply would not
stay put for another photo...).

"I am entitled to trying on all
of Speedo's hats" (yessiree
and no lie dear readers).

The "Bear" and Mai effect:
Stage 1 - Shy Diva.

Stage 2 - Dance Mayhem.

Stage 3 -Ourg!
(Temporary bear persona).

...aaaand Stage 4 - *ahem*.

Tina turned out to be an...

...amazingly fun person...

...and quite the party animal!

As for Flexxy, as per usual, he did not stop at all...

...whether dancing with Mai or Tina, until he reached
his first limit, but we left before he had the chance
to do his Limit (and skull) Breaker.

Julie, also sporting the notorious hat,
although it gives her a rather different air.

You know, I have realized that though I do not
dance in general (and when I do, I do it badly),
maybe alcohol is not the key to it, but rather
a type of music I cannot really place but originating
in my childhood, along with excellent company...

...which was exactly what the

people in ours constituted...

...alcohol consumption and...

...inherent craziness notwithstanding
(I really like this photo).

As one amongst us put it, our company was "super" without trying to be anything other than people with genuine desire to have fun and relax after a taxing day. Of course, my continued restricted mobility over the past 6 months (i.e. I have become a slothful furry animal) meant that the next day I felt pain in places of my body whose existence I keep forgetting, but it was a welcome pain, a muscle memory of having a good time.

Of course, since everything is connected, one of my common courtesies of the night resulted, indirectly, in a string of peculiar and not entirely pleasant experiences for one of us. However, I have come to understand that a certain level of entropy is unavoidable around me or perhaps around any sort of good intention and those strings of seemingly randomly interconnected events is nothing more than the definition of life. As I said before, so far as the good outweigh the bad, even slightly, be grateful. I know I am.

Here's to your health,

Speedgrapher

P.S. I have seen a number of disturbing things in my life, but Flexxy doing the "Macarena" is in a league all his own. Cheers!

Literary Section XIV - "You and the Land Are One".

2009-07-27T14:43:00.007+03:00

...is what Percival said to King Arthur after the completion of the Grail Quest, in the 1981 movie, "Excalibur", featuring a phenomenal cast of actors, such as Helen Mirren (Morgana!), Liam Neeson (Sir Gawain), Gabriel Byrne (Uther Pendragon), Patrick Stewart (Sir Leodegrance) and classic legendary actor Nicol Williamson (Merlin).

Today's post refers to this particular movie (which I watched when I was entirely too young to meet the age restrictions and my parents enitrely ignorant of its specific content, when I asked for it in VHS) only by association to the latest book I read and then only throught this particular phrase. The book is "Voice of the Fire", by Alan Moore (author of "Watchmen", "V for Vendetta", "League of Extraordinary Gentlemen", "From Hell" and other such masterpieces) and I bought it several months (maybe even a year) before I entertained any thoughts of starting to read it. That's just how it is with me: I keep accumulating interesting things I mean to read, which I pile upon the previous bunch of such interesting things and so on and so forth. However, I eventually get there, especially when - by necessity of work deadlines and bad time management - I cloister myself at home: there is only so much one can do between 6-hour work intervlas of translating "hard science for the masses" (read the beginning of the article for more details).

At any rate, when the work-seclusion started, I needed something to relax my brain from all the science and yet keep my thought processes alert enough to get into the flow of work, to get used to seeing so many words fly by my eyes so quickly. Hence, I first picked up Neil Gaiman's and Michael Reaves's "Interworld", which will be covered in a different post: it flew by effortlessly and even with my limited available reading time, it was gone in a little less than a week and it had enough cosmological and scientific references which, though helpful to my necessary thought processes, prevented it from being as relaxing as it would otherwise have been. I needed something else...

Alan Moore's writing has come to be perceived, almost by definition, as very deep and hard to understand. I have personally received the comment: "What?! You're reading Alan Moore? No way dude, he's faaaar too complicated for me: I cannot stand him." That was a comment provoked by the author's graphic work, along with Eddie Campbell, entitled "A Disease of Language". Funny enough, I have not had the time to read that particular volume just yet, but I believe we are dealing with a genuine case of "deceiving appearances". Alan Moore IS deep and no question about it, since all of his works have been hailed as masterpieces, at least in the comic book domain, for which he has been rewarded with non-resolvable contract fine-print and a number of bad movie adaptations (I believe that, despite its stellar cast, "League of Extraordinary Gentlemen" was by far the worst, tantamount to ridicule). As for being far too complex and hard to read, I would have to say that it's a rather inaccurate statement: I believe it would be more correct to say that Alan Moore's works, especially when not aided by the imagery of the comics medium, require that the reader becomes interlocutor, instead of passive (even though captive) audience.

It was something that I realized while reading this, his first work I have come across that is not in comic book form (I believe that "Alan Moore's Writing for Comics" does not really count in this instance). "Voice of the Fire" is many things: a novel in 12 chapters, 12 linked short stories, 12 iconic personalities and imagined characters from the area that is now Northampton. However and not presuming to understand the mindscape of Alan Moore (although I HAVE watched Dez Vylenz's documentary), I believe the point is a space/time testimony beginning with a half-wit neolithic boy, passing through Roman rule and decline, the time surrounding the arrest of Guy Fawkes, the Burning Times, the Victorian Era and reaching 1995, which sports the writer himself at the center-stage.

All 12 personalities, real, or assumed, or completely imagined, speak in the first person, through the lips of the author. Through their eyes we see how Hob's Hog and Bridge-in-Valley became Ham Town and in time Hampton, how the relics, both physical and metaphysical shifted, moved, were redistributed and yet remained with each people of the land, how the 2500 BC forge became Hammersmith Train Station, how - in the end - the land and the people and the tales, the blood, the violence, the sex are one: oh, they may change form but are never lost, a kind of "Conservation of Legacy", much like the indomitable Conservation of Energy. Each story is told in the appropriate way, whether half-witted neolithic thoughts, mad diary ramblings or last thoughts as the fire licks tender flesh. This is a book of themes and symbols pervading Alan Moore's hometown, as only an honest-to-(whatever) God Shaman can perceive and accept them.

There is no glossing over here: humanity has persevered through fear, murder and sex, as much as it has through imagination, ingenuity and creativity. Alan Moore not only presents a profound understanding of this, both instinctive and researched, but he doesn't try to put himself on the outside either: the last chapter may well have been an entry from his personal journal, where nothing is left unsaid, where he smirks ironically at his own reflection and that of his family and friends, all descendants in underlying nature, if not in fact, of the previous 11 protagonists, the whole lot of them, past, present and future, birthed from the fertile, wet nether regions of the Northampton land.

I cannot really say much more without referring the entirety of the book and there are even parts I had to reread in order to make sure the connections I saw were not imagined. Was it hard to read? Not really, not apart from the first chapter, which was no more difficult that a conversation with a retarded child would be: the language also changes from chapter to chapter, to reflect the era and is in itself a journey of discovery, as things unknown at first, start to gradually make sense. It also becomes clear that the historical research was arduous, what with the book being nearly 300 pages, having been written over a span of 5 years and first published in 1995.

Alan Moore and Melinda Gebbie.

If I wanted to draw a general conclusion from this book, it would be this: however hard we may try to forget and strike from record what has come before, the land never forgets and it seeds our dreams, our fears and our superstitions with the clues to the truth. Whether we want to ignore them or not and what might the consequences of each action be, is a matter that we cannot hope to resolve - merely accept, if our mind is open enough.

Remember, for if memory is a river, the more debris you drop in, trying to stem its flow, the more disastrous the flood when the dams break,

Speedgrapher

"I Shall Take the Mighty Stone and Leave the Dwarves Behind..."

2009-07-25T01:30:00.011+03:00

The title of this post, though it did not appear as such in the good professor's book, is indicative of how much this particular work has influenced me. Let me clarify: the lines come from Blind Guardian's "The Bard's Song (The Hobbit)", from the album "Somewhere Far Beyond". The lines illustrate a most pivotal moment in Professor Tolkien's book, "The Hobbit", in Chapter XVI: A Thief In the Night.

"Somewhere Far Beyond" [1992].

I couldn't have been more then 8-9 years old, when my as yet unborn sister's godmother-to-be, suggested I read "The Hobbit", knowing of my inclination towards epic fantasy even then (although being asked, I could not have put it that way). It seems that, even at the time, I kept that piece of advice somewhere in the back of my head. So one day, when I was in the midst of my habitual mining through the piles, racks and shelves of stuff in my father's work room, I came across a 1978 edition of "The Hobbit", translated in Greek, by Kedros Publishing.

"Dad can I have this?"

"Sure, go ahead."

That was about the extent of the dialog exchanged between us concerning the book. I have said in the past that I do not believe in events and lives being written in some unreachable, cosmic stone and what's laid out for us is merely choices, some rather inconsequential, some decisive for our whole future existence: to me, picking up this book is one of those pivotal moments in my life, where the path forked, presenting the possibility of a child who did not, in fact, read the book and forgot all about it and that of a child who picked up the book in amazement and did not put it back down until it was finished. That second child grew up to be the person now feverishly typing these words.

The Greek Cover of the 1978 edition.

Reading "The Hobbit" had a profound effect on me and shaped me in more ways than my then impressionable mind could have ever imagined, like listening to epic metal as a teenager, playing Role-Playing Games, developing an insatiable curiosity about the myths and legends of diverse civilizations, writing and above all, desiring nothing in life so much as telling stories. There was a bit of biological hard-wiring in place, what with my keeping things in memory, though several years may have passed (even decades now!) and those things, seen in the light of the mind at different ages, becoming tales to be told and embellished upon. Even now, I can remember with perfect clarity (and even a measure of heartache) lying on an old sofa, reading:

"Farewell, good thief"

[...]

"Farewell, King under the Mountain!"

Thorin Oakenshield, by John Howe.

...with tears flowing from my eyes and down my cheeks, my chest in so much pain from sudden sorrow as if (God forbid) a dear friend or relative had passed away. Thinking back on the actual passing of relatives and the events surrounding it, years later and more than once, that deep and uncompromising sadness has now aged into the sweet taste of reminiscence, of innocence, of discovering truths about friendship, honor and forgiveness in the pages of a book as a child, more than I ever did in real life as an adult.

Therefore it was not easy for me not to squeal with delight when Kyoshiro sent me the following...

Granted, it's not much but you DO catch a glimpse of Bob Hoskins (at least, I think) and many glimpses of the Dragon, Smaug. Although I have known for quite some time (I first mentioned it here around the end of the article) that Guillermo Del Toro would direct the film, as well as the fact that there would be a second one, bridging the 60-year gap between "The Hobbit" and "The Lord of the Rings" (probably material from "Lost Tales" and "Forgotten Tales"), this is the first actual peek into the production, so I am pretty elated to see it. I have high hopes for this film, based on my conclusions from his other works ("Pan's Labyrinth", "Hellboy II", "El Orfanato"), even more so because he really respects the source material. Although it was amazing seeing "The Lord of the Rings" on the big screen, Peter Jackson had done a number of unforgivable fumbles and changes, not the least of which was making Gimli, son of Gloin, a comic relief.

So far "The Hobbit" will have Ian McKellen again as Gandalf, Hugo Weaving (unfortunately) as Elrond, Andy Serkis as Gollum, Ron Pearlman probably as Beorn and Doug Jones ("Hellboy"'s Abe Sapien) as... well, I don't know. Of course, rumours abound concerning Bob Hoskins (as mentioned above), James McAvoy (who said it was sadly just unfounded internet talk) and Paul Giamatti.

Digging through del Toro's current projects, I also noticed he is working on Neil Gaiman's "Death: The High Cost of Living", a tricky business involving one of the most celebrated comic book characters of all time. The film adaptation has gone through a number of rough tumbles, but now its coming into existence actually seems feasible.

Death, Second of the Endless.

Here's to looking forward for SOME movies in the future: at the very least, movies that will be directed with respect.

Cheerio,

Speedgrapher

Celluloid Vampires and Then Some - Part 1

2009-07-23T13:30:00.009+03:00

Hello again people: I hope life is treating you well. As of yesterday, I am back from oblivion (not the game), since I handed in my latest translation (as well as the index to it), a tough little cookie called "The Universe: A Biography" (by John Gribbin), which dealt with the beginning and the end of all that we know (and probably will know) in the Universe, compacted inside 220 pages. The book had large amounts of Astrophysics, Cosmology, Particle and Nuclear Physics, some Quantum Mechanics and a smattering of Organic Chemistry and Biology, just for good measure. It bled me out, but at the end of the day it was a really interesting book and great inspiration for anyone attempting to write serious science fiction. Interestingly enough, an old friend had some serious questions yesterday, concerning the nature of Physics and especially Heisenberg's Uncertainty Principle, which led to other questions and so on and so forth, all of which are actually covered in the book; just a note on things being connected.

The cover of the English Edition.

In spite of those scientific and linguistic labors, my thoughts are turned to vampirism these days. For some reason, Vampires never seem to go out of fashion, ever since the Victorian Age. Sure, they change faces, settings, descriptions, they suffer the rigors of becoming literary, televised and cinematic cheap thrills, but at the end of the day, they still remain lodged in our brain's seat of fascination (wherever that may be and if even such a thing exists). Sometimes, they make for rather unexpected surprises, such as Greek television putting on "Rise: Blood Hunter" with Lucy Liu, a Chinese production for rather "culty" tastes, yet definitely in the must-see list of Vampire movies.

Of course, as with anything popular, there's times of hype and times of quiet. Well, the past 6 months have been rather noisy. However, two very specific things initiated this post, one being my current fantasy/horror fix, the other an addition to the long list of cinematic adaptation misfires.

Let us start with the bad, so to speak, since it's the most recent. On Monday, I had been awake since 20:00 of the previous day, since I spent the night doing last-minute corrections to the last chapters of the translation, as well as translating all those annoying things one leaves for last, such as the author's bio, aknowledgements etc. After everything was done and sent over to the publisher, I had to get ready and make my way downtown to the publishing house (Metaichmio) offices on Ippokratous St., in order to discuss some details. After that meeting was concluded, I made my way to the nearby Games & Hobby Store (Kaissa) on Kallidromiou St., where I salvaged another couple of RPG books from being lost to obscurity and dust. After that, having been cloistered for more than 20 days, I headed for some more geek-therapy consisting of buying comic books (at Solaris), after a brief visit to a different publisher, in order to get paid for an older project. While there, I was contacted by Mai-chan, whom I had not seen since the last J-Party, so we got together and went to have a bite (at Mystic Pizza: cannabis seed-laced Pizza & Pasta, yaaay) and coffee. Thereabouts, Kyoshiro called and asked if we would be tagging along for a movie, "BLOOD: The Last Vampire". Naturally, we were game and agreed to meet the others at around 19:00, since the movie started at 20:00.

The Salvaged Items

Call of Cthulh Supplement
for the 1890s.

Swashbuckling Adventures Supplement
for the secret hoards of pirates.

So now we have reached the actual event which was one of the two triggers for this post, i.e. watching the aforementioned film. The reason I more or less described the rest of my day, was to explain how I had been awake for 24 hours straight, going all over Athens, until we entered the cinema. The movie was based on a 2000 Japanese animated film of the same name, by Production I.G. (of "Ghost in the Shell" fame). The anime film, although possessed of stellar animation and design, was only 48 minutes long and hence, ended in an unsatisfactory way, leaving the viewer hanging dry.

In 2002 came out a manga sequel by Benkyo Tamaoki, which elaborated a bit further on the main character, Saya, why she is a hybrid (Human/Chiropteran, as Vampires are called in the specific context), her relation to the U.S. government etc. It was a more complete, stand-alone story, containing a few useful clues about the anime film.

There have also been a manga adaptation of the anime, two more manga spin-offs (Blood+ Adagio [2006] and Blood+ Yakou Joushi [2009] - not translated in English), as well as an extended, 50-episode TV series [2006-2007] which finally gave some concrete answers.

Saya and Haji as portrayed in
the anime series.

Did you get all that? Good. Now Hollywood, continuing on its unimaginative streak, decided all that would make yet another easy adaptation, hence the live-action movie. Let me tell you: the original material, most of which I have either watched or read, is messed-up enough that it changes who and what Saya is at least twice, though skillfully enough that you have to look for it, in order to see it. So what did the Americans do? They took the already problematic outline and pacing of the original anime film, copied it almost to a fault, up to a point and then they just got "creative".

The American Poster.

The Japanese Poster (even the poster
is way better - these people KNOW
the source material!).

Not all was bad: Yasuaki Kurata, who played the elderly mentor of Saya, Kato Takatora, had some very impressive combat scenes and Koyuk i (who played Taka in "The Last Samurai") made for a real mean Onigen, the Demon Queen of the Chiropterans. However, the Chiropterans themselves were bad, BAD CGI, the special effects were tiresome and untimely and I must confess to nodding off to sleep during various instances. As I said earlier, I had not slept in 24 hours but come on! I have done 36 and 60 hours in a row in various instances and if there was something really interesting to keep me awake, it did (the 60 hours are a prime example, since at the time we were playing a great RPG session with friends, whereby I was kept awake until my body collapsed). I therefore conclude that the movie was not all that great.

Kato Takatora: Epic.

Onigen vs Saya: great photography, lousy
planning, duration and ending.

The idea of the Chiropterans (sickly, dark green and brown colored winged creatures, resembling part Coppoloa's Dracula in his winged form, part reptile with huge teeth - they can also take human form and infiltrate the population) struck me as a bit cliche and throwback for Vampires, even in 2000, but at least they had something primal and disturbing to them, especially during the transformation from human to Chiropteran. That disturbing quality was preserved during the early stages of the transformations in the film, but the full-fledged Chiropterans looked like silvery flying Gollums to me. Furthermore, someone not familiar with the source material would have a very hard time understanding the underlying politics and intrigue, which were featured in a rather silly way anyway. Finally, what's with having a non-Asian female co-lead in the film, dumber than a sack of hammers, who is "important" because she "somehow" connects with Saya (Vampire/Human sword-wileding, monster-slaying, at-least-200-years-old merciless, reclusive person, remember?)? Her presence, let alone part, in the film is nonsensical.

A piece of amazing promotional
artwork for the original anime movie.

So yes, in my book, it's yet another vampiric misfire. Was it as bad as "Twilight"? No, not really and "Twilight" has a number of much more important problems than 'BLOOD". Before you ask, yes I did watch it on the big screen (in fact I went with high hopes, knowing nothing of the books or the hype) and funny enough, it was yet again with Mai-chan and Kyoshiro. To me "Twilight" is the epitome of lukewarm, bubble-gum soap opera horror-romance or, in simpler words, the heir to a long line of bad Vampire interpretations, having gaping holes as far as the legends go and one of the most absurd and ridiculous innovations ever: Vampires do not go out in the Sun because they glow like they're made of Swarowski gems. Not to mention that most of the Cullen family really look and behave like goth-wannabees in white, instead of Vampires, with the marked exception of Peter Facinelli as Dr. Carlisle Cullen, as well as Ashley Greene in the role of Alice, the youngest of the family.

Other than that, it's just a (heavily) watered-down version of Anne Rice and (even worse) Laurell K. Hamilton stories or, as one of my favorite analogies goes : "What if Buffy banged them instead of killing them?" However, banking on the ever-impressionable female population who deep-down wants "a guy seemingly so bad/sad/dangerous that I can turn him around", "Twilight" became a world-wide hype. True to that, girls/women without such complexes did not like the film. I know, I know I am pushing it but I am desperate to see how a thing so badly written and even worsely adapted (except for the film's photography, which I admit was higly artistic) could have such a profound "kyaaaaaa" effect.

These three COULD have saved the film.

Besides, Robert Pattinson?! I mean, I am not the best at commenting on male looks but seriously, outside the film (and at times, inside it too) the guy looks like someone hammered him with a frying pan and flattened his face. I think that if not for his very unsympathetic role, Cam Gigandet (James) would be a much more reasonable candidate for female drooling. I should also point out that the trio of James, Laurent and Victoria far outshone the leading characters, although they were used terribly unskillfully in the story (James's death being the ultimate "I have no idea how to get rid of him" demonstration).

Seriously, get a good look at the guy...

...and now look at these three.
It IS kinda obvious.

If (and only IF) you want some good Vampire fiction, masterfully adapted for the (small) screen, you should check out "True Blood", a TV series by HBO, the second thing that initiated this post. However, now that I look at it, this post has already become huge, so I will break it into two parts and elaborate on "True Blood " in Part 2.

Till later,

Speedgrapher

P.S. Regardless of the film's final quality, you can go here for some great photos from the shooting of BLOOD.

Literary Section XIII - Artwork

2009-07-08T12:34:00.003+03:00

I don't really have time for an extensive post, but as I was browsing through some file binders, I found this beautiful pin-up by Mai-chan, which she had given me to upload back when we were trying to work on a joint project. Sadly, as many other well-laid (OK, perhaps "optimistically-laid" is more accurate) plans, the project fluked, though I still keep it in the back of my mind.

At any rate, it's one of her art-pieces that I count among my favorites and thus decided to share it with you.

You can check more of her artwork on her MySpace or her manga blog, Sakura no Kage.

Cheers,

Speedgrapher

A(n) [Express] Train of Thought

2009-07-07T05:00:00.010+03:00

*Clack-clack* *clickety-clack-clack* *click*. The sound of work, as fingers run a marathon over the keys and alternate with the occasional touch of the electronic rodent's buttons, the murmur of machine, at times a sigh and at others a furious, urgent blowing, mingling with tired sighs and a steady breath that mankind scarcely notices, taking it for granted until it stops. The eyes are sticky from dryness, due to long-time exposure to the screen's radiation and just plain old sleepiness. The mixture of scents is not a particularly appealing one, as sweat upon sweat mingles with the murkiness of the season, the night's dew transforming into mouldy atmospheric humidity, instead of refreshing moisture.

I take a swig out of my overgrown polymer vessel and taste the bitter-sour grapefruit juice - may the Lord rest the soul of he who invented ice-cubes. I have no idea why I drink the stuff - certainly not to lose weight, given my day-to-day stillness and rather foul diet - or even why I am more inclined towards salty, sour, bitter things, instead of sweets (unless of course it's the worst form of sweets, such as petroleum-extract jelly-snacks, or the sainted ice-cream). What I do know, is that once more the Universe makes a point of its peculiar humour, as lines upon lines concerning its creation drone - no, fly, but slowly - before my eyes and I am reminded of a whole chapter dedicated to it being at the grapefruit-size stage, one hundredth of a billionth billionth billionth of a second after its *plop* into existence.

The irony does not escape me but I find it scarce funny that the Universe once had the size of such a delicious, bittersweet thing (the actual fruit is so and make no mistake) and that I am trapped between lines of words brimming with its description, while I guzzle myself on something that might be the actual thing's extract: it's still bitter and I still like it and by now my thoughts have veered off into a place where all dimensions are at right angles with those of my assigned work. The quest for knowledge of the origin of everything and then some: Sacred Science indeed, although it is now unthinkable for the two words to be joined, except within the limits of history and philosophy.

Of course, all this frantic firing of my neurons and the wild DJ battle between my brain's seat of memory and seat of knowledge, results from the presence of one thing instead of another: I have been cloistered for work before, not 4 months past, then in the throes of great depression (seemingly even greater than the one menacing the world's finances), yet armed with solitude and a feeling of being disconnected from the rest of humanity - which things helped, or rather forced me to concentrate on my work alone (what else was there for me, after all, I was thinking at the time).

Now, after a turn of events starting 3 months ago, almost to the day, and ending a little less than one month and a half ago - events into whose details no gentleman of a right mind would delve - the depression was scrubbed off me rather violently, replaced by my returning feel of the humanity inside and around me.

All this may sound a bit aloof and all too philosophical, yet make no mistake, it's a rather simple thing that only perception manages to turn so complex: it is all about sensing humans as living, breathing, sentient things which, indeed, tend to break down too easily, instead of regarding them as only the result of behavioral patterns, cause and effect, strength and weakness. Certainly, the latter is an appealing outlook in that it defends you against a multitude of "acceptable" attacks, within the limits of our "civilized" society and makes you capable of returning the attacks in kind, if not multi-fold.

In essence, if you detach yourself from the complications of humane - and not just human - relations, you are pretty safe and, given the proper inclination, you can develop a number of skills to gauge and damage those around you, should you wish so. However, it is a lonely, barren and rather thankless road. Oh, you can certainly pretened about a great many things and "earn" the gratitude and admiration of those around you, yet the mirror inside yor mind's eye will always show you for what you are: a rather pathetic excuse for Dorian Gray. In time, even if you once had an inclination for malevolence or revenge, it drains out of you, leaving you indifferent, forced to wear mask upon mask to interact with people without coming across as cold (freezing cold at that). Their words reach your ears but do not register and are therefore promptly forgotten, be they insignificant personal dramas which mean the world to them, or serious thoughts deserving of further probing.

It occurs to me that, like a cossinus curve, I have been edging back and forth between conditions over the years, often resting at the 0 point of the y-axle, despite my best efforts. With age, the dinstinction becomes more blurry: I am 27 now and I have seen my share of abnormal situations - well, perhaps a bit more than my allotted share - as well as witnessed and felt intervals of happiness, some longer, some shorter, all in all good and bad balancing each other out, with a small yet very dinstinct "quanity of good" coming out on top. I am grateful for that and should you weigh the good and the bad in your life and find them as such or better, you should be too. If not, then you have reason to work towards making things better. Whining never helped anyone and the Gods help those who help themselves, as the old adage goes.

So now, I am observing and I am listening and I will remember all that you tell me and if you ask me a question, I will try to answer it to the best of my ability, unless I perceive that you already know the answer and are seeking something else. There are times when I might be annoyed, at seeing people conjure problems and imagined slights that stem from internal frustration and oftentimes, pure imagination. Still, I listen and I will speak my mind and I will not lie, though it may hurt you and possibly turn you against me. Such is our world: though we are all somehow connected, we do not necessarilly fit together.

As a last thought, keep this in mind: this, our world and life, is or will yet be filled with too much pain and sorrow. It's the natural way and course of things, as they stand. So do yourself a favor and cherish all that you enjoy as granted; and if you have the time for idleness, at least enjoy it instead of using it to poison your mind and your humour. We only get so much time and if there is one undisputable sin, in my opinion, it is wasting ours or that of others, either in our minds or through our actions.

Good morning,

Speedgrapher

P.S. In case you were wondering, I write these things because they float around in my mind and disrupt my focus. Materializing them into typed words relieves the pressure inside my skull, so to speak. I do wonder whether this train of thought traces its origin to my current work, in conjunction with my reading chapters from Alan Moore's "Voice of the Fire" late at night or very early in the morning.

Literary Section XII - Little Arithmetics

2009-06-23T01:32:00.008+03:00

Life, as they say, is stranger than fiction - how much weirder then when, the absolute weirdness of life becomes itself fiction. "My sincerest contrafibularities", as Lewis Carroll would say. I have often found very queer the fact that most (if not all) things seem connected and that no one you meet is really a stranger: "a silver thread, connecting all people", as those of a romantic predisposition would say.

At any rate, there has been a series of mostly unrelated events (my father getting an e-mail from the British Council, a presentation involving an overlarge green marble, a group of people doing weird and funny stuff with science, a team, some friendships, a violent break, some new decisions, a return and a new team) that led me to read "Little Arithmetics", a book by a young woman named Anna Varsamou.

As the flap of her book says, "within these pages are contained many wedding gowns, but no wedding, a house filled with powdery sugar (or something that resembles it), valuable manuscripts left to dry, Morissey giving advice, a strange, bloodless murder, the collapse of a mathematical axiom and a few other uncanny things we have all lived through. For even the strangest stories are different facets of a reality which is irrevocable and intolerably normal." I must admit, among the many things stated above, those that initially caught my eye were "bloodless murder", "mathematical axiom" and finally, "Morissey" (duly corrected), in that order, all contained and somehow interconnected, inside the small book I was holding in my hands.

The Cover of "Little Arithmetics".
[If interested, you can find it at
Perizitito.gr]

I do not know Anna all that well: in all fairness, I do not know her very much at all. We first met as members of the science communication team, SciCo, on the 24th of January, 2009. The purpose of the meeting was to discuss upcoming projects, one of which was "The Science of Love". Ever since, we have mainly rehearsed as part of the team, we have exchanged a (very) few stories and have shared in the stress accompanying any form of theatrical performance, moreso one executed by people who are not actors (well, we had to share her own stress, since I am an insenitive bastard). No, I cannot really say I know Anna and am, therefore, unable to confirm whether "appearances are deceiving", when it comes to her as a person; not so for her book. Having read it, I can now say, with absolute certainty, that "Little Arithmetics" did not turn out to be what I expected at all. Yet, it delivers all it promises, not having said a single lie to its prospective reader.

"Little Arithmetics" is not about numbers - not really - nor is any fabled scientific axiom deconstructed. In this book, no one dies and yet, there is death aplenty and mourning and a little happiness, in these small, surreal doses: like LSD drops that make you soar under their influence, leaving you broken and wondering what it was that you fleetingly dreamed of, in the harsh light of reality. It is a book about people, about their dramas and neuroses and false hopes, insignificant on a cosmic scale and yet vaster than any universe. They say "no man is an island", no man (or woman, for that matter) is completely alone and yet this book states a simple truth, that most like to deny: we are not just islands - we, in and of ourselves, are whole worlds and worlds apart from each other.

We spin around our center, ignoring all that may orbit, or even approach us and in the off chance that our respective gravities bring us close, we crash into each other, hurting and cracking and hoping that we may end up as twin stars; and this we call love. This is a book about all these things, without fanfare, raw and honest. It is, above and beyond, a book about hedgehogs, past present and future, whether they walk on two legs or not.

When I found out Anna had published this book, I tried to track it down, due to one of my most integral flaws: curiosity. However, I could find it nowhere (it came out in 2000), so I asked her if she had a copy. When she gave it to me, she told me: "don't pay too much heed to it - it's just the ramblings of a girl at a messed-up age". I had no answer to that then, but now that I have read it, I concur: indeed they are and that is what makes the book important. A good book does not need to have complex, multi-layered mysteries or elaborate on the underlying fabric of reality. Putting into paper, in an understandable way, the everyday madness, delusion, pain and happiness of being human, is achievement enough.

One might plausibly ask, why did I like this book so much? You must have gathered by now, even by my choice of language, that I am not a great fan of Greek literature (at least, not modern): there are exceptions of course, but a good deal of it bores me to death, because many writers try to "dress up" their subject, to make it seem something different, more sophisticated than it actually is (and then there are those for which I simply have no frame of reference). This is a book that strikes me as having been written from the heart and it is a book I understand implicitly, as it touches at some sensitive chords of the past. I do not know if we are really all connected, but this book connects.

In closing off, here's a video of dEUS's (one of the author's most favorite bands) "Little Arithmetics", which inspired the title of the book.

Incidentally, I did not know dEUS before Anna and the following is a song of theirs ,which I really like.

Cheerio, dear readers

Speedgrapher

No Offense Live Report (22/05/2009 @ Mike's Irish Bar)

2009-06-13T23:38:00.018+03:00

Well, yes, in fact I managed to go! After around 5 Lives, I managed to go watch Flexxy and company on a humid Friday, finally! I had listened to No Offense's recorded live performances and yes, I thought they were pretty decent (it's a hesitation to say any more, that comes with any band doing covers), but now I have revised my opinion: they are good and not just "hey, they're my friends (well, Flexxy is) - they're OK". No, I mean actually, very pleasantly good.

They played a number of interesting covers, "Give It Away" (which always makes me appreciate Flexxy's voice range), "Unbelievable" AND Gazette's "Cockroach" among them and I believe the whole band is deserving of congratulations, for doing the songs justice. They also played two of their own songs, "A Fresh Start" and "One Step Forward", the first of which I liked very much, in and of itself, while the second brought to mind the music from the fictional band, Trip Cyclone, in the game "Shivers II" (one of the best soundtracks ever in a game, if you like classic rock).

At any rate, here's the photos from that night.

Presenting

No Offense

Vlassis "FlexXxible" Tsiamas
(Vocals)

Haris Pandazis
(Bass)

Panayiotis Kolidas
(Guitar)

Vassilis Nikolis
(Drums)

You know, I generally sort Flexxy under
"depressed", or at least, potentially so...

...but whenever he is on stage
(both when I saw them live and
in videos)...

...he seems to forget himself.

The whole band was perfectly focused...

...not only keeping their building momentum...

...but also augmenting it as they went.

As to the ever-fearful question: "were there
enough people?"...

...I believe this answers it (in part - there were
many more on the other side but taking
wide pictures is a pain in there).

Not to mention some familiar faces
(Velvet Vortex)...

...John and NickUnknown (back from Scotland
for Summer Break). There were also Raziel,
Luna (far left, here), Nickmer, Darkside_Blues
and Cavu (Ergo Proxy sleeped us off, yet
again).

"Give it away, give it away, give it away now...!"

I have a small obsession with
photographing drummers...

...because they invariably give me
a hard time (Chiroto has been
by far the worst).

After No Offense concluded, we ordered beers
and Kamikaze Cocktail, which...

...gave Darkside_Blues the
opportunity to test his...
suction skills (you had it
coming bro)!

I also took a couple of videos ("Cockroach" and "One Step Forward"), but they are huge and I have a hard time uploading them. However, I have given them to Flexxy, so he should get off his ass and upload them himself, yeah?! Well, at any rate, I want to congratulate the guys and thank Flexxy for dedicating "Unbelievable " to me. It did seem a bit weird to anyone who has not been exposed to the company's inside jokes but so long as I understood, alles ist OK.

For myself, I would like to hear more of No Offense's original songs (which, as they say in their page, they are currently working on), but a slight suspicion I have about their next covers (not telling), has me waiting for their coming live performances.

Before I go, here are a video featuring Trip Cyclone's (whom I mentioned earlier) "Was I Even There" and another featuring the remix from the Shivers I game music.

Strangely enough, both I found were edited with Kingdom Hearts footage.

Rock 'n' Roll Children,

Speedgrapher

Lost Files: The Vampire Shoot (22/11/2008)

2009-06-05T13:37:00.010+03:00

While putting a semblance of order in the chaos that are the files on my PC (pretty much like my room), I came upon this folder in the "New Photos" subfolder, aka, "photos I have not yet edited or posted".

On the day that the Final Fantasy Cosplay Party had taken place, Sarcana had asked around if some people would be interested in playing extras, for a scene shoot that would take place in UNDERWORLD, themed around Vampires. The shoot would take place on Sunday. A couple of others and myself showed up and well, let's just say that many left because the film crew was late around... 3 hours!

Regardless, before the director showed up, the make-up crew came along to transform Sarcana into a Vampiress and Sweet Lady With A Tiger-Tail into her all-too willing victim. Seeing as you can only indulge in so much small-talk (thanks Nicolas - I would have shot myself dead out of boredom!), I decided to take advantage of the dead time to shoot some pictures and post-editing, well, this is the result.

Sarcana and Dominica Chaotica.

Sarcana has the tendency to...

...hang from things or...

...climb onto them, which really
makes for interesting photos.

Experimenting with the little
available light.

Experimenting with Photoshop.
You will notice that certain
pictures have the eyes
painted red - it's because
I thought it fitting or just
wanted to try out an alternative.

Nikolaos, ???, Nerissa and Sarcana. Almost as
if from a Vampire the Masquerade scene.

Nerissa and Sweet Lady
With A Tiger-Tail.

This is one of my favorites: her
body type and skin, make for an
ideal combination with the
puncture wounds.

This one, as well as the following
two, are also touched up
concerning the blood smear.

All in all, a rather good set. Too bad I could not take some pictures during the scene shoot. To tell the truth, the setting was so disorganized as was (I don't even remember the name of the director but she really had to get her act together, both in directing the whole thing, as well as actually having an original idea) and I did not want to add to the chaos. I had heard a rumor that the movie, of which this segment was shot on that day, was to be taken to the Cannes Festival - never found out about that...

That's all for now,

Speedgrapher

June 2009 Events

2009-05-30T14:38:00.006+03:00

Here's a couple of things that might interest you, which recently came to my attention:

First-off, Bare Infinity, an amazing Greek Metal band, which has passed through much turmoil since its formation, in 2003, will be playing at 8Ball in Salonika on the 12th and at Sfendona (22, Alexandras Ave.) in Athens, on the 19th. What makes this band so amazing (to me), is that they sound like a healthy mix of Nightwish, Within Temptation, Epica and Sirenia, all of which are very dear to my heart. Of course, one would argue that you could always listen to those other bands, but the fact is, simply, Bare Infinity are good, really, really good!

When I first stumbled upon them, I started listening to their first album (Always Forever) medley on MySpace and I thought they were probably Finnish or Norwegian; lo and behold, looking at the profile details, they were Greek! I was amazed that a Greek Metal band could put out such incredible quality, both in sound and vocals (I find very annoying the fact that many Greek bands who sing English lyrics, have blatant accents - not so here, not by a longshot). Needless to say, the lyrics are nothing short of great.

On a personal trivia note, I thought their drummer, George, looked oddly familiar and indeed, I had met him years ago, during my Live-Action Role-Playing days. I will be attending their Athens Live with a 99% probablility and I believe that anyone who holds Melodic & Symphonic Metal close to their hearts, should as well.

As a secondary note, [room302] of ex-Ordre de Ciel and ex-Le Ciel, is organizing a Video Game Music Party at Texas Necropolis (corner of Themistokleous & Gamvetta) on the 5th of June, with a new team (?) called Save Point. The event will feature Video Game Music (and you can bet that there will be a lot of Silent Hill, if the past is any indication), as well as a Video Game RolePlay Contest, where people are invited to dress as their favorite game characters and win prizes.

That's all for now - c' ya,

Speedgrapher

"Bloody Carnival" on Radio

2009-05-24T00:04:00.003+03:00

My second detective story, "Bloody Carnival", will air as a radio dramatization on the greek station 902 FM, narrated by Dimitris Poulikakos and directed by Adelle Mermiga, as part of the station's detective story series, "Cops and Robbers".

The show is broadcasted every Monday at 21:00, with a repeat play every Sunday, at the same time. This story will again feature Prometheus Hermeticus, as did the story for the Ecocrimes collection, "Double Substitution Crime" and will be bradcasted this Monday, on the 25th.

Hope you can listen to it and give me your feedback!

Cheers!

Speedgrapher

Flight of the Stormcrow

2009-05-19T23:16:00.006+03:00

I have been meaning to write this post for quite some time now; more specifically, the pictures were taken on the 9th of May 2009, at a Starbucks near the Athens Metropolitan Church. A company of friends gathered to say goodbye and wish a safe journey to Raven Sweetwater, a.k.a. Nozomi Sugihara, who would be leaving on the following day for the U.S.

Reasonably, one might wonder why we would gather with such urgency,, with such a feel of necessity, given that she is supposed to be gone for 20 days - until the end of May. Well, for one, it's a Greek thing and in her case, those of us who know how and why she has suffered for the past months, needed to see her off safely, so to speak. It is almost ritualistic, as if our gathering for a (temporarily) last outing, like we used to, will be a good luck charm for her to bear on her journey (not to mention that she needed all the encouragement she could get - she is friggin' terrified of planes).

Among the people gathered
were, of course, Kyoshiro and Flexxy...

...who took it upon himself to film the whole outing
(as if photos were not enough!)...

...the mighty KrizD -sensei...

...Chiroto (else known as
Master Betty), who brought disaster
the moment he stepped in there,
spilling 330 ml of whatever it was
Ploutonas was drinking, on the
ground...

...Ayami-chan...

...Didi...

...and the aforementioned Ploutonas,
among others (are you flashing us or
is it my idea? Dude...).

For my part, however, there was a thought lodged in the back of my head - involuntarily, as it often is and refusing to budge one inch: "she might not be coming back". Really, for all the company and friendship, for all the good days she might have had, her time here gave her a lot of grief and too much to deal with, too fast, too coldly, in the one place supposed to be a safe haven: home. In fact, I am not very sure she even considered having a home here, after a while.

Then, I started getting news from her, what she is doing in the U.S., how she spends her time. Then she started blogging again, started posting pictures of people and places and not one of them has been about Sugizo, her seeming obsession with whom has become sort of a frequent, well-humored, inside joke. Those last two posts were about herself, her own life, her own thoughts and contrary to what had become the norm, she seemed alive, happy, vibrant, not struggling against depression and madness, with her life coming apart and crashing down all around her ears.

One of many funny moments: Didi - yes, Didi! -
is on a diet (fer chrissake), so...

...the moment Ploutonas went to talk to Kyoshiro...

...she started oggling Ayami-s cheesecake dangerously!

Given the choice, what would you do? What would I have done? I have no idea, but that thought at the back of my head asserts its existence: she might not be coming back and I cannot really say as I blame her...

"Group photo, group photo!".
[KrizD has left
and here you can also see Sokail (top left),
myself next to him and Xander (top right).]

Safe travels Stormcrow, wherever they may lead you...

Speedgrapher

No Offense Live @ Rodeo (03/05/2009)

2009-04-29T01:35:00.007+03:00

It was high time I posted something here - with all the craziness (mostly good and a few drops of bad) in my life right now, it is all I can do to keep my work and absolute necessary blog posts up to date. However, it would not feel right NOT to announce this here.

A friend from the immensely active Japanese community of Athens, Vlassis "FlexXxible" Tsiamas, aka Flexxy (or Fle-chan, when we want to get on his nerves - a pretty common occurrence) and his band, No Offense, will be doing their first big gig after getting back together again, at the Rodeo Live Club, on the 3rd of May. The evening will be split between three bands in total, the other two being The Virgin Steve and Accidents Happen.

I have not managed to attend one of No Offense's lives yet but watching some of their live video recordings and often witnessing Flexxy singing, I can say pretty confidently that they got their mojo right. As far as I know, at the moment they are focusing on covers from early millennium alternative-indie music, although as I have been informed, they plan on doing "Cockroach" from the Japanese band, The GazettE. Here's what the original sounds like:

Hopefully, I will be there to cover the whole thing with my camera and then report it here.

Cheerio,

Speedgrapher

Shiverspine Live Report (19/03/2009 @ AN Club)

2009-04-02T14:08:00.018+03:00

My acquaintance with Shiverspine goes back to the original parties at KABATZA and I originally met Freaking Candy Freak at the first cosplay there, on the 9th of March 2008 (although I had no idea who that cool Gaara was at the time). Over the next weeks I became acquainted with two other members of the band, Ploutonas and Chiroto, while FCF kept amazing people with her cosplays, such as Death Note's L (most faithful rendition that I have seen to date). I believe I met their singer, Jay Tegg, during the Underworld season of Japanese events but I am not entirely sure.

However, no matter how many times they told me they would be doing a live gig and no matter how many times I said I would (and really wanted to) go, something always came up and I ended up breaking my promise. Other people would tell me how the live was and I could assume a few things about the band's stage presence, from the way they dressed every time I met them, but still, I had not seen them on stage and felt rather bad about it.

That is why, when I learned of their gig on the 19th of March, I decided not to say anything at all: if I could make it, all was well, if not, I wouldn' t be seen as bullshitting them for the n-th time. As it turned out, I managed to go, along with a good company of friends, Didi, Flexxy, Ed Elric, Louiza, Milk, Xander and of course, Kyoshiro, among them. Kyoshiro even brought the equipment to film their live at AN Club. Hence, camera in hand and half-blinded by their psychedelic lights, I started trolling around and taking pictures.

I finally realized how easy it had been to take pictures until then, when my subjects' movements were restricted to just walking around and I could rely on a powerful flash to make up for the lens's speed. However, as you will see further on, the pictures at the live were really worth it without the flash. That is why, of the total 86 pictures taken, I have chosen only 40 and among those, some who are not "quite right" but rather, "interesting". Here we go then:

Here's the first one, with flash...

...not bad, not really but...

...I don't think it compares!

Chiroto was the one I took (and rejected) the most photos of...
It was so hard to catch him somewhat clearly.

Jay Tegg and Freaking Candy Freak. If you wonder
why she features most prominently in this post...

...she was the most stationary and I could therefore
get the most clear shots out of her!

This is the clearest one I have of Chiroto but really,
the lack of lighting takes away all the feel.

Photographically waaaay wrong...

...artistically interesting.

Again, one of the most clear ones of Ploutonas
(without flash).

This is definitively the clearest shot of Jay Tegg
I could get (guy was headbanging so hard!).

There: now this was an all too common occurrence
but I still like the psychedelic look of this one.

The band's bassist (Nick)
proved nigh on impossible to photograph during
the live and not have him look like Cousin It.

Kyoshiro, ever making faces,
here with Full Metal...

...Milk and KrizDaMan!

Finally, the whole band crystal clear, after the gig.

Shiverspine's music is a very particular mix, which I am kind of inadequate to describe, but I have liked their sound ever since I listened to a couple of songs they had posted on their MySpace. Harshness and melody mingle to make a sort of distorted poetry (which yes, does send shivers up one's spine) but as usual, much of that was lost to me because I was, well, shooting like crazy. Congratulations guys and gal!

Their next gig will take place on the 12th of April. Read below for more details:

Cheers,

Speedgrapher

A Night With the Elder Gods

2009-03-19T05:21:00.010+02:00

Hello again; once more it's been a while but many things are moving forward or changing direction, so current;y I am a little overwhelmed with stuff, while Ergo Proxy has sunk into a bog recently and I cannot get him to blog anything (which is kind of weird, since this was his blog originally and the darn bastard DOES have way interesting ideas...).

At any rate, currently KrizD and I are trying to organize a J-Party for Saturday (read more here and here) and at the same time I have rehearsals with SciCo for our new science theater show, "The Science of Love", a s#!tload of photos to edit and I am also looking into some other projects, in various fields. Meanwhile, COMICDOM CON is coming up (photographic duties, as usual), three days after the science theater premiere and that is only about half of it, if you add all the other little stuff buzzing around me.

However, on the 27th of March I will crawl out of my cave to attend an event dedicated to H.P.Lovecraft, on the occasion of Michel Houellebecq's book, "H.P.Lovecraft: Against the World, Against Life", being translated into Greek. The event promises to be very interesting, as it will feature writer and reciter extraordinaire, Makis Panorios, who will talk about Lovecraft's work and read one of his short stories, Theodore Gregoriades who will talk about Houellebecq's work and Dimitris Vanellis (an old acquaintance from my years in "9" Magazine). The end of the evening will feature a selection of Lovecraft film adaptations, chosen by director and film academic, Dimitris Panayotatos.

The english edition of the book.

Sad to say that this concerns only Greek readers, as the event will be held over here, at the ΕΣΗΕΑ building (Akadimias 20, Athens) and starts at 20:00. However, I will endeavor to report it for those of you reading the blog from abroad.

I encourage all local readers to join me in going to this event, that promises to be a true night of horror and wonder with the Elder Gods.

Fhtagn!

Speedgrapher

Our Hearts Know No Restrain... [#1]

2009-03-04T09:21:00.012+02:00

...be it in joy, anger of pain. Hello dear readers! It has been a long while, I guess but the trappings of real life have slowed me down to nearly a standstill as of the past one-and-a-half month, condition which thankfully changed only this past Saturday, when an amazingly large company of people gathered for Bunnydragon's birthday. When I came home, looking back at the pictures, I was reminded of some other, entertaining instances I had not blogged, so I started sifting through them.

This here is the first in a series of posts to follow, documenting crazy nights out with friends. Some faces are probably familiar to any of you who read Otaku Lens but, truth to tell, I had been thinking for a long time that the posts there seem to infer Japanese-themed is ALL we do, which is inaccurate. Hence, I decided that some of the other fun stuff we do, should go here. You will often see links back and forth between the two blogs, as it is very likely that there may be cross-references (such as today),

In later posts, you will bear horifying testimony to karaoke nights, Carnival antics and much more! However, THOSE sets of hilariousness are not ready to be posted yet. In the meanwhile, for a first taste, here's our "after-party" to the Final Fantasy Cosplay, on the 20th of December 2008. The following took place at the MAD club, somewhere near Kerameikos Metro station. Enjoy!

Louiza & Milk: craziest bunch of girl
friends anyone can hope for.

Ed Elric sporting a Road Camelot (D.Gray-Man) T-shirt,
Tsiroto and beer-guzzling Milk.

Ploutonas's look of exasperation. Dude, it's not my
fault: I had tucked the camera away until Kyoshiro
prodded me to take it back out!

Cheerio, ladies and gents! (Well, only the ladies show
here...).

Louiza's outfit DID um... attract
some looks. *ahem*

Flexxxy: "Dude! Whoa!"

No real party is without didi-
dollie-doll around...

...here looking eerily like Goldie
Hawn in her early days.

Louiza dancing and me shooting. The second
picture of Louiza dancing, on that night, made it
over here.

I think this one speaks for itself...

...as... well... does this but, um...
(Milk: Mistress of Making Faces).

A Shiverspine Moment: Ploutonas, Tsiroto and Kain...

...a really... tender moment.
(Kidding, kidding!)

It's too bad I could not get a better angle
of this one: Louiza is actually hanging
from the club's door, feet off the ground!

Sokail: beer-drinker, Northron,
barbarian and... 80's headbanger!

Well, that's all from that night, since we WERE more than alittle tipsy and I could not really shoot very straight. However, the upcoming posts will be much more fulfilling and funny, I promise you.

Until then, keep your noses clean,

Speedgrapher

On the Beautiful and Ironic Randomness of Life

2009-01-12T22:33:00.008+02:00

Today I was at downtown Athens once more, in order to take care of some business that the Saturday protests had prevented me from completing. At least, this time the protests were rather peaceful (as far as I know and in comparison to the last couple of weeks' riots - it never ceases to amaze me that protests involving large-scale international events, such as the Gaza massacre in this case, are usually not fraught with violence and destruction, but that is another issue).

At any rate, having concluded my business, I was too far off and too weirdly woken up to go to the nearest comic book store, so I went to an RPG, Wargames and Hobby Shop instead, where a number of old books (up to 10 years old, I think) were on offer. When I say old, I mean only pertaining to their publication date, since there is absolutely nothing denoting their age appearance-wise (OK, except for a small batch). Hitting myself over the head for not having purchased AEG's Swashbuckling Adventures from the offer stand, I found it missing, so I went ahead and dug through EVERYTHING else. In the end, I came up with the following items:

Pax Dei: A Sourcebook of the Dominion
for Ars Magica 3rd Edition
(White Wolf)

Middle-Earth Role-Playing:
Southern Gondor: The People
(I.C.E.)

Nameless Cults: The Cthulhu
Mythos Fiction of Robert E.
Howard
(Chaosium Books)

Now, one might wonder what possible value these books could have for anyone OTHER than an RPG afficionado with archaeological tendencies, let alone one who, in fact, finds the Middle-Earth Role-Playing system one of the most constipated and hard to use and who has only played Ars Magica 4th Edition (I think they are at their 5th one at present and of course, White Wolf is no longer the publisher). Well, these RPG books come from a time and age, when writers and publishers actually had the high ambition of young (or even, not that young) people to read and then use their creativity and imagination to forge long-lasting, good stories. These books are damn good reads, with a bare minimum of actual rules pertaining to the game, but a wealth of lore to be cherished and become a source of inspiration. In fact, Pax Dei was written after extensive research at the Carnegie-Mellon University, in order to attain the optimum fusion of Mythic Age Church power, with actual Medieval Church history, politics and mystery.

As for the third book, well, it contains every bit of Cthulhu Mythos written by Robert E. Howard, the literary father of Conan, Kull and Solomon Kane. Among the many tales included in the 350 pages, are "The Black Stone" and "The Gods of Bal-Sagoth", in case you were wondering where the metal band got its name from.

For these three books I consider treasures, I payed a grand total of... 9 euros. This pertains to the irony in the title of today's post, as, a few years back (well, up to 5, probably), these books would have cost me around 65 euros! That is very nearly the sum I would pay for the Deluxe Edition of Hyoborian Adventures MMORPG, for the PC. A little food for thought on the progressive value of literature versus the value of the rather mindless act of gaming. Do not get me wrong, I am a PC gamer too (though I loathe MMORPG) but still, I realize that, counting out a few masterpiece Adventure Games, it is a mindless activity. Incidentally, the images above are my scans of the actual book covers, who are as if they shipped from the companies only yesterday.

Following these purchases, I decided to go over to my publisher and buy some more copies of the short story collection containing my "Double Substitution Crime", to make gifts of. As I was making my way towards a main avenue, to catch a cab, I chanced upon an acquaintance I had not seen for over a month: a sweet young woman with mischievous green eyes. After the exchange of a few words, I noticed she was looking at me in a peculiarly amused way. When I looked at her questioningly, she said:

"You smell like... something out of a mountain."

"...?"

"I don't know, something between a Sage plant and Mountain Tea..."

"Um... do I?"

"Yeah. I think it's really nice, but also kinda funny. Don't you?"

"Well, it's the first time anyone has ever told me such a thing, but I will take it as a compliment."

"It was meant as one."

Though it would have been completely out of context to discuss at the time, I knew why that remark brought a rather weird, even silly smile to my face; once, what seems like a very, very long time ago (in fact, around 10 years), when it seemed to me that it was impossible to be unhappy on this small blue world, a very different girl had whispered tenderly into my ear:

"You have the scent of wet earth. It's a good scent."

So there, a totally unexpected remark, from a completely unexpected quarter, brightened the rest of my day, for no (rationally) good reason at all. That, in my opinion, is the beautiful randomness of life.

Speedgrapher

Post Media Magazine - The Right Kind of Ambition

2009-01-02T00:36:00.006+02:00

Happy New Year everyone! Seeing as this is 2009's first post, I though I would start with a message of hope (well, that's what it is to me, anyway), so read on.

For me, being part journalist, part translator and (recently) part writer, translates into keeping my eyes open when I troll around, especially near magazine stands and keeping my mind open to new possibilities, opportunities and above all, ideas. Hence, during one such foray downtown, I was killing time while waiting for a friend, browsing through magazine after magazine: war journals, historical magazines, science mags, popularized or not, culture magazines and cinema stuff are always the ones that draw my eyes. However, this time my eyes fell on the exceptional cover of PhotoNet, a magazine (as you can probably imagine), involving cameras, shooting techniques, new technologies and all sorts of updates from the field, so I went ahead and bought it.

When I came out the store, I shot a customary glance again, before leaving and that is when I saw it, sitting there patiently for me to notice: Post Media #01, of a simple and elegant design, the only intentional cacophony being a pink graphic, proclaiming: "100% AD-FREE. This publication does not include even a single advertisement!" Then I read the fine print on the cover (well, fine in comparison to the magazine's title), where the expletive was placed: "Bi-Monthly Publication for Independent Journalism / Issue 1 / November-December 2008 / Price 9 Euros". I felt a heartstring being tugged somewhere inside: "INDEPENDENT JOURNALISM"!!! Someone was spying on my most secret thoughts and hopes and I as it turned out, I was grateful for it. Before you move on, I must warn our non-Greek readers that all of the following concerns a Greek publication.

Post-Media is just as its cover proclaims, an independent publication, free of any sort of advertisement, containing 100% reader material, presented in a clean, easy-to-read way, along with all sorts of original illustrations, photo-montages and such. I do not know if they plan on following a theme in each issue but in this case, they did, taking their proclamation a step further by analyzing the history of advertisement, its evolution and current domination over almost any and all media. Various angles are discussed by different journalists, bloggers and even academics, in relation to capitalism, its "green" or "ecological" counterpart, over-consumerism and even misogyny.

As for the main feature of this issue, it covers the so-called "Free-Press" Magazines (and to an extent, the very internet that most of us are using), who are in fact slaves to the advertising vices of their sponsors (and in that sense, not much "free" at all). The article is written by a friend I met through COMICDOM, Leda Tsene and I would argue that it's strong point is in its not being mere polemic or criticism, but a presentation of information with available sources and quotes, that not only tries to extract a conclusion, but also provoke the readers to examine the situation for themselves.

I would not go as far a saying that Post Media is light reading, since that depends largely on the author of the article (and the subject matter has quite a bit of politics and economics) and of course, the reader, but I must commend all the contributors on using good, concise language and writing as clearly and straightforward as possible. I believe the most accurate term would be "eloquent journalism".

A final, important word before closing off: Post Media's ambition is to be a "reader-funded" magazine, so to speak. That is, under no circumstances will the publication rely on "outside funds", such as advertisements and the price will fluctuate according to the readership. Hence, the more successful the magazine, the more its price will be lowered. It's the right kind of ambition and a fair deal, if you ask me - I wish them the best (and THIS is their blog).

Oh, and do get a copy on your way out...

Speedgrapher

Holiday - Holy Day

2008-12-25T15:54:00.003+02:00

Christmas time again, Christmas Day today. I keep hearing a number of things about this whole affair, some positive, some negative, some indifferent but to tell the truth, I am not sure how many grasp the main point or even know the background.

To begin with, a large number of pre-Christian holy days and festivals were held around the 25th of December, usually some days earlier, on the 21st or 22nd, when it's the Winter Solstice, the longest night of the year. A non-exhaustive list includes the Saturnalia (Roman - when slaves were served by their masters for a day), Yuletide (Druidic - when the old Sun died in order for the cycle to begin anew), Mithraic Celebration of Sol Invictus (actually on the 25th, a bull was sacrificed in order for the young Sun god to be born), Shabe-Yalda (Iran - when people gather at home around a korsee (a low square table) all night, to tell stories and read poetry. They eat watermelons, pomegranates and a special dried fruit/nut mix. Their are tons of festivals to be found around the world from Brazil, to Native American Tribes, to India and so on and so forth (you can read more here).

The oldest surviving evidence of Christmas Day as a proper holiday (and celebration of the Birth of Christ), dates back to 336 A.D., in Rome, mentioned in 354 A.D.'s Philocalian Calendar (see here, page 20). Of course, it has been argued and debated ad nauseeum, that the historical figure of Jesus Christ was not in fact born in December, but somewhere closer to April and of course, he was not born in the year "0" but following that numbering, probably around 3-4 A.D. That much is probably true, especially the falsity of the 25th of December, given that, originally, this holiday was created as a "festivity merger" and later on, during the Church's "hostile takeover" of the older religions, as a counterbalance to one of the most important pagan holy days.

Given what I write, one might think that I am making a case against Christianity. Not at all. In fact, I DO believe in the one God and call myself a Christian. That said, it doesn't mean that I agree with the trappings of organized religion such as it is today or such as it was in Byzantium, after Emperor Constantine forced the Synod to create "one proper faith", to unite his people. Faith and religion are two very different and nigh on unrelated things. Hence, I dub myself an Unorthodox Christian (for, surely, most priests would have excommunicated me). Don't even get me started on respecting other religions and believing that, in fact, Science and Faith don't have much to argue about, at their core, because some would be inclined to exorcise me or treat me to a round of psychotherapy sessions.

Besides, I digress: our subject is Christmas and all the other related holidays. As you have seen, there are quite a few queries and more than a few ambiguities on the whole subject matter. However, in almost all the aforementioned celebrations, there are three common axes: hope, kindness towards and fraternity between people, as well as between people and our small blue world, be they Zoroastrian, Wiccan, Druid, or indeed Christian. These things are the only ones to keep at heart, for everything else - and I DO mean EVERYTHING - in the end is ashes and dust and our differences, quarrels, territories and wars, merely smoke and mirrors.

Merry Christmas and a Happy Holiday to you all,

Speedgrapher

Vive La Revolution, Vive La Terreur!

2008-12-19T01:32:00.002+02:00

Let me put this plainly, without much flourish: things are getting worse, MUCH worse by the day, with both sides (that of the government and that of anyone and anyone taking part in acts of vandalism, arson and hooliganism in general. Mindless people are talking about the "Revolution of Youth", while in fact we are living through days of Terror in its purest form. I bet most people do not know the two are connected. Let me enlighten you, before moving on to the actual facts...

On July 14th, 1789, the people of Paris invaded Bastille, having reached the breaking point with feudalism and the rich getting richer, while the poor simply died in the streets. On August 27th of the same year, the National Assembly issued the Declaration of the Rights of Man. On October 5th, Parisian women stormed Versailles, the royal family estate and palace. On September of 1792, the National Convention had their first meeting and up to this point, there's every reason imaginable and totally valid for the French people to have brought down their governing system and opted for the power of Democracy, under the motto: "Liberty, Equality, Fraternity". That, in fact, was a revolution, perhaps the greatest in history, in terms of how it affected the country and in time, all of Europe.

Now, what followed was Louis XVI being sentenced to the guillotine, on January 21st 1793 which still, was "reasonable", given that France was in that mess because of him and the royalists. However, what was beyond all reason, was the infamous "Reign of Terror", which held from September 1793 to July 27, 1794, under Robespierre, who consigned between 20000 and 40000 people to death by guillotine. It was also that period which coined the term "Terrorism". Let us draw a parallel here: I would say, in all fairness, that Athens (and Greece in general), is living through days of terror, especially for the folk working downtown. As further evidence to that, an "anti-government" group attacked the French Institute today, at the corner of Sina and Didotou Sts., mainly defacing the outside wall and only causing some damage to the windows and a nearby ATM, because they were chased away. I would very much like to know what the French Institute had to do with ANYTHING in this sordid case, besides being an easy target for vandals and inconsiderate hooligans (thankfully, no students were inside at the time).

People are saying that Alexander's death was only the spark that struck the fuse of tons of proverbial "gunpowder", due to the government being inconsiderate, passing unacceptable laws and being involved in all sorts of scandals. They say that youths are desperate and looking for a way to vent their desperation and make themselves heard. I could agree, up to a point and if we make a parallel of the youths to the French people of the Revolution and the government to royalists of the same period, it all seems like another necessary outcry from a suppressed populace. However, the people burning Athens, burning Greece, even attacking foreign institutions and thus making any foreign feeling of sympathy obsolete, are rapidly becoming akin to those who started as revolutionaries and ended being terror, even unto their own. The question is, who is the "Robespierre" behind this nigh uncleanable mess.

On another note, there's a very obscure angle to these developments: on Wednesday, the 17th of December, George Palpomatas, son of the Greek Communist Party's and Teaching Association's syndicalist, Constantine Paplomatas, received a .38 caliber (the "Saturday Night Special" of fame - a nickname ridiculously translated in Greek, over the radio) shot in his wrist, while he was discussing with his classmates of the Student Council, at the 2nd Peristeri High School. Thankfully, surgery was successful without further complications, except one: he had his hand in his pocket. Now the pocket is usually thigh-high, meaning that if his wrist had not stopped the bullet , it would have likely hit his femoral artery, among the biggest blood vessels in the human body, usually resulting in fatality, depending on the height of the wound on the thigh (for more information on such wounds, read here). Thankfully, that was not the case.

The event was again fraught with misdirection, discussing the possibility of an air gun (with a projectile of 20mm, right), ricochet or whatnot. In fact, the bullet is very old, the type which still used unjacketed lead and could be around 30 years old. What this means exactly, in relation to everything else, remains to be seen. One thing is for certain: two shots were fired and again, a kid was injured.

As for the special guard, he has started claiming he is delusional, sees demons and generally tries to use a "psychological" fanfare to avoid incarceration. The ballistics testing claims that there's traces of silica dioxide on the bullet, stuff found only in concrete and glass, therefore the bullet that hit Alexander MUST have ricocheted. Again, we must wait and see what this means for the whole case and given circumstances, if, in fact, it is true.

Meanwhile, THIS is how we look to the outside world.

The fires keep burning,

Speedgrapher

Shameless As Always

2008-12-12T01:52:00.004+02:00

Yup, that's what we are people, shameless. Well, to be fair, there is at least one known person who is shameless to the point it would be laughable, were it not so disgusting and many, unknown (to me) people, who are shameless hypocrites. The sad thing is: a large number of them are "concerned and emotional teenagers". Let us recap though.

The well-known shameless person (and the butt of many jokes, thanks in no small way to his being ridiculous), is Alexis Kougias, the attorney who is defending the two police officers. In a statement on TV he said "police ballistics testing shows that the bullet was deformed on one side, therefore it must have ricocheted off something before hitting the boy. It was obviously one of the two warning shots that killed him." There's more but again, let us look at some facts: the police report has not been released to the public, or even officially for the court, so... why does he feel safe enough to say something like that on television? Again, as in the last post, I ask: where is the video, which SHOWS the officer take aim? Where are the witnesses who say so as well? These are not rhetorical questions, because you and I and everyone involved KNOWS that both video and witnesses exist. So, where are they and why is that sleazy lawyer free to make such statements (usually an indication that things will go his way, since he is also a sniveling coward who always covers his ass)?

Now, all this falls into the realm of speculation and is "to be continued". What he said next, however, is plainly infuriating and I believe that if some people out there REALLY need to break something, they should take a shot at his head. Thing is, this is not hearsay: I saw it on the freaking news! "Whether this boy had to be killed or not, will be decided by the judicial system." Take a breather, let the blood flow away from your eyes.
...
...
...

All better? Well, here it is then: the big-shot, prominent and overpaid lawyer states that it is possible for justice to decide: "yes, it was all well and good for this man to kill an unarmed kid". Forget everything else and let us take this a step further: according to the Laws and Customs of War on Land (it's kinda long but very enlightening on MANY THINGS), established at the International Court in Hague, even during wartime, armed forces are prohibited from killing civilians as such. Are we at war? No, not even close, thank God and yet: an officer killed an unarmed 15-year-old kid, as civilian as it gets. Now explain to me, under what preposterous circumstances could justice rule that as a "necessity"?

Moving on now, to the unknown multitude of shameless hypocrites, joined by a faction of idiots. School "psychologists" (yes, I have known quite a few - socially, not as their patient - and no, they are NOT eligible for that title) were heard saying about the whole riot/burning/chaos thing: "the children are shocked, so we must let them blow some steam off". If we are talking specifically about his classmates and friends, I could plausibly understand that. Only, these "psychologists" had absolutely nothing to do with Alexander's school. For an encore, students in several schools (where the "psychologists" worked) argued that they should not have midterm exams because "they are very shocked by all this". Again, should these kids be in any way related or acquainted to Alexander, I can understand. If not, they are just trying to take an idiotic advantage of a host of tragic events and a faction of idiots' "expert opinion". This is how much they actually care: a teenage kid died and all they can think of is how use his death to avoid their midterm exams. Amazing...

I will not go as far as saying that some of these selfsame kids are among the vandals and hooligans burning Athens, but they DO have one thing in common: all this is just an excuse to them. Thankfully, even the weather is sick and tired of everything, so it started raining furiously. Any punk who is out for some burning fun, will have to reschedule.

Speedgrapher

The Burning Times

2008-12-09T18:55:00.008+02:00

The Burning Times, else known as the era of the Witch Hunt, is the historical time between 1550 and 1675, when the Church and Inquisition burned somewhere around 150000 - 200000 "witches". Worldwide paranoia had gripped almost every corner of the Earth, in an effort to cleanse the evil "responsible" for every possible mishap, from failed crops to the neighbor's dog dying. In many cases, the paranoia was used to further many people's and/or organizations' personal goals and ambition.

I don't know about you, but it certainly rings a bell to me. Oh, yes: a 15-year-old boy was shot by a policeman and a surprising number of people do not actually care about the fact itself, but focus on using it as some kind of leverage or generally, a means to be exploited. Some recent examples:

(1) Journalist A, says over the radio: "...the officer in question, a father of two...". We don't care if he is a father or not and this is a token phrase used to evoke public sympathy. For what reason? Besides even the reason, that is not journalism: journalism is the cold, hard facts, given in a way that they represent the truth and not used to alter their essence.

(2) Journalist B says over the radio: "...the brave young lad, killed by...". We've been through this: yes, a boy was killed, yes by a police officer, yes it's horrible and tragic and in my opinion there's nothing that would plausibly exonerate the guilty party. However, where exactly does the "brave" part come in? Did the journalist know the boy? Does he have any indication of the boy's bravery in the face of the policemen? Does he have any clues he should share with the public? NO, he just tries to evoke public sympathy and while I can understand it in the case of the victim, still, not journalism.

(3) Journalist C says over the radio and Journalist D says on TV: "...the boy, executed by the police...". Whoa there! Hold your horses! Do these people even know what execution actually is or what it implies? In one case, a direct order by the government to kill that specific kid OR, a direct order from some unknown authority (legal or not), to kill the kid. Think about it and think what that actually means, both in the case it could be true and more probably, in the case where it is not true but a "journalistic" hyperbole.

(4) Greece's "Burning Times" so far, have a toll of 1000 waste-bins, several businesses and buildings, an unknown number of stolen merchandise, as well as cars, public property, etc. etc. and will still have economical, societal and exterior political repercussions. Do the people, currently destroying Athens, act in such a way in the memory of Alex Gregoropoulos? No, they were looking for an excuse; they are ALWAYS looking for an excuse. They are exactly the same as those oh-so-brave punks who viciously beat up a photographer doing a piece on the nightly face of Athens, believing he was working for the police; without a gun. Now, in fact, a policeman has shot someone dead. Are they outside said police station trying to beat the cops up? No, they are instead breaking, entering and stealing from shops all over Stournari St., Ermou St., Kolonaki, in Salonika, in Giannena, in Komotini, all over this poor, pathetic country we call home.

(5) What about politicians? Sure, the average person, with an average IQ rating above a turnip's knows the government (Nea Dimocratia - right wing) is trying to pick up the pieces and cover its ass. For instance, they made the day of the boy's killing, a holiday in his honor (well, in fact it's tomorrow and not the day itself but you get the point). Right, as if that would console his parents - bollocks! As for the opposing parties (PASOK - socialist, KKE, Syrriza - leftist), they are using all this situation to garner favor to the detriment of the government and accuse each other. Mr. George Papandreou holers useless speeches as always, against "the evil of the right wing" (because his beliefs are so leftist, right - pun intended), Mr. Alavanos wants elections and calls "the fighting, vibrant youth to say a loud 'NO' to today's government, by peaceful protest and vote", Ms. Papariga accuses Syrriza of being in league with the hooligans, Mr. Alavanos says that KKE and Ms. Papariga shamelessly try to undermine his party, Alexis Tsipras (note, Syrriza's current head) has not shown his motorcycle-riding mug and all around, people are doing their best to garner impressions.

(6) As for the police, hah, around half an hour ago, a motorcycle Team Z member shot his gun several times in the air, to "scare off protesters", in a densely populated neigboorhood, with people watching the streets from their balconies. Thankfully, no one was hurt - this time.

(7) Meanwhile, every foreign agency of any sort, from here to Timbuktu, advises that people avoid Greece for a while and paint us as we show: as incompetent savages.

By the by: two of my close friends were acquainted with the boy - it's a very small world, countries are even smaller, ours miniscule by comparison and we satisfy ourselves with burning it, either for estate gain or pure hormone/stress/frustration release. I say: get laid more and stop burning stuff. Your dicks won't get any bigger.

Speedgrapher

P.S. Oh, by the way, some people thought it was a very good and revolutionary idea to blow up a bank's (Citibank) ATM, 2 blocks away from my house. I am SURE it was all done in the name of the kid's death - nowhere near where all this is actually taking place.

For Queen and Country (Except, We Have No Queen)...

2008-12-07T06:08:00.003+02:00

It is a fact that I love many countries around the world, in some of which I should like to live and others where I should like to spend a great deal of time. However, I have often stated, following these musings, that Greece is the only place I will ever truly feel at home. However, events such as transpired tonight, are valid reasons why I would maybe abandon this place once and for all... someday.

Tonight, at 20:50, a 15 (or, according to some reports, 16)-year-old boy was shot to death in Exarchia District, at the corner of Koletti and Mesologgiou St., by an armed Special Unit Officer, triggering massive riots in downtown Athens, Salonika, Komotini, Ioannina and Herakleion (Crete). According to the police report and official statement, the shooting was a result of the two officers, passing through the neighborhood in a police car, being assaulted by a group of thirty anarchist/leftist young men. One officer responded with a flash (again, according to others, smoke) grenade and the other delivered three shots, resulting in the killing of the boy. "They have been suspended, along with the Chief of Exarcheia Police Dpt. and are facing inquiry as we speak, with the presence of the D.A.'s office". We'll just have to wait and see what will come out of it (if anything). Interior Minister and administratively liable, Prokopis Pavlopoulos, delivered his resignation to the Prime Minister, Kostas Karamanlis, a resignation which was not accepted.

The actual news of the killing reached me while in a friend's house at Pagrati and when I finally took the road home in a cab, around 05:30, downtown was closed off, the streets were near empty and no public transportation could be seen anywhere. Earlier that night, a friend invited at the same house was late because of a pickpocket, caught red-handed by his would-be victim, having to wait for the Metro officers to take him away.

This second incident mentioned here, is of course insignificant by comparison to the killing, which, beyond riots by protesters and wanton violence (car and store arson at Sygrou Ave. and in and around Exarcheia mainly) by people who do not really care anything about the actual events, will have enormous repercussions, as the already disliked government will have to face the consequences of the police's actions and neighborhoods infested with violent and criminal elements professing to be "anarchists" (for some of them, believe me, I know first-hand that it's just a feeble excuse) will become even more dangerous and wanton destruction more common.

Events have been covered all over the Greek blogosphere and newspaper sites, as well as BBC, where you can see a video segment of the now ongoing events.

"For Queen and Country", "To Serve and Protect", "A License to Kill". think I see a pattern there. Don't you?

Saturday Bloody Saturday and Now It's Dawning Sunday

Speedgrapher

Literary Section XI

2008-12-05T10:35:00.002+02:00

2 Fools and 300 Sins
Act I: Carnival of Fools
Part I: Invitation...

September 6th, 2028, 18:30

Blast this verdammt weather! I had hoped that the summertime would hold a little longer but it's just my luck: the humidity just had to go up, two days before the opening and the old wound has been acting up like a real bitch. Ah, to hell with it, I will just pop two of the pills that Lisa ever so kindly (and illegaly) provided me with, grind my teeth and bear it. To be honest, I could very well use the weather as an excuse not to show up; maybe it's even for the best. There was good reason I vanished the first time around and even better reasons for my remaining out of anyone's touch. What the Hell was she thinking--...

Still, I gotta hand it to the ol' girl, first for finding me and second for being persistent enough for me to give her a "yah, I'll come by". I used to take pride in my not being surprised, barring exceptional circumstances and she just had to go and become an extraordinary circumstance. I don't much care for the occult but if there was one time I felt a cold, ghostly hand grab me by the balls, it was when she called. Another was when... Well, not getting into that, I'll veer off subject. Twas two weeks ago and I was loitering around the office, not doing much of anything: it was another day I was feeling too old to go after any small or big-time scandal, be it straight, gay, trans, politician, unfaithful blue-collar or whatever. Anna May was gone early (this whole month's been full of dance rehearsals for the play - must make a note not to miss the premiere) and it was the first day that humidity started setting in. I was in pain, therefore miserable and foul and had disconnected the phone as a result, complementing my misery with the company of a bottle of liquor from the old country. Bless my forefathers for being the most determined drunkards in the Mediterranean.

After it became clear that old case-files and long-since-forgotten "glories" would not help my typically unsettling sleep, I left the mess as was (except for hiding the liquor), put the phone back online and went to get my leather coat (older than me and somehow not the worse for it). After I put on my hat and got my walking cane, I was at the door. Phone rings... The vast majority of myself has been cursing me, no holds barred, for picking it up, but that old curiosity that has fucked me over more than once, demanded I did.

"Yah? D&T Investigations. Whoever you are, we are--"

"Grav?" I froze. This voice only had a mild resemblance to someone whom I had known a very long time ago, someone who had been a good afriend and to whom I had not been as good a friend as I might have. Still, it was not so much the resemblance, but more the familiar tone, almost carefree, almost as if 20 years had never gone by; as if betrayal and death had not come between friends and lovers and--. I broke off from my reverie and to my astonishment, I answered...

"Stormy...?" What the hell was the matter with me? Why did something like that come to the fore of my skull after being in the graveyard of my mind for 20 years?

"Yeah, it's me. Oh, I am so glad you recognized me!"

"Yah, sure... Um... How did you--"

"And how have you been my erudite detective?" Christ, this was rapidly turning into a Nightmare Through the Rabbit Hole. 'Erudite detective'? I had not been called that by anyone in years - well, except Anna-May and then I only react tersely to the poor girl.

"Well, I... uh.. good, good I guess. Well, as good as I can after-- You know..." Right, at 46, it is evident I am turning senile. Why did I have and bring up something that all involved would have most likely preferred forgotten?! "I'm sorry, I mean--"

"Hey, no harm done sweetie. That's all in the past now; do not hit yourself over the head about it." Was she cheerful? It sure sounded that way; tired perhaps, but cheerful. This was becoming more surreal by the second.

"So, um, how's tricks? I mean no, I wanted to ask ye how did you--"

"All that can wait until we meet up close." Here we go. Veering off into madness again.

"Look, Stormy. I appreciate the call and all but I really--"

"Please. Hear me out. I won't even try to dig into that thick skull of yours to find the myriad reasons and excuses you want to give me to avoid getting together with the past. I simply called to give you an invitation to the opening of my nightclub. Your name will be given at the entrance, I will give you a date and address and then do as you like - it's not as if anyone could convince you differently, even back then." Ouch, OK, that got my attention all right.

*sigh* "OK, I'm all ears."

"In two weeks hence, at 21:00 sharp, the '302' will open its doors to the public. It is located--"

"OK, wait a fucking second there! This is not even funny Storm. Is that why you called me? To mess with an old man? You know what? I remember, real clear, if that is what you called for - the leg wound reminds me keenly in this weather. So you can just--" I felt something black and sickening at the pit of my stomach. The '302'?!

"Grav, just for moment, shut up. To begin with, I am older than you. Secondly, it saddens me that you have indeed become a paranoid old fart! Do you remember me this cruel? I KNOW who was real cruel, as well as you do. Do you really want to go there?"

"Ah, entschuldigung Stormy. I just... Well.."

"I know what YOU are thinking for once. That's an odd feeling - YOU were the one who always knew too much. However, don't make this something it is not. I am not an Erinye, Grav and God knows you have enough of your own, even though it was not your fault. At any rate, we got into a discussion that I did not want to have over the phone after 20 years. The club is located where Villa Amalias stood. Did you write down the date and time?"

"No, uh... gimme a sec-- wait, THAT huge thing is yours?"

"You' 've seen it?"

"Well, I have seen the 'KEEP OUT' signs and some of the workers. Some of my... less aware informants used to hang out there and there was this whole upheaval about their having to relocate or face incarceration. Well, as much of an upheaval as people who are in perpetual stupor can cause."

"Well, at any rate, that's where it is. Come early, say around... 19:00. There won't be anyone there yet and we can do some catching up; if you want. Besides, I have one of the best places reserved for you, so you can see the opening. It's gonna be something!" Well, I am not really sure what kind of 'something' it's gonna be but I cannot argue there, for a number of reasons.

"Yah, I'll come by. But I won't stay too late. Leg's killing me."

"As you like. Oh, and Grav? You might see some familiar faces there - I wanna be straight with you but please, it won't matter, so do not let that keep you from coming over."

"Right. Yeah... Look, I gotta go now so..."

"I understand. I won't call again. If you come by, all will be as I told you. If you don't, well, have a good life. such as it may be".

"Right. Thanks... I think."

"Bye, sweetie." She hung up and left me there, numb, apprehensive. I guess 20 years did change her some. She was not chewing words, nor was she calling for support. She was doing me a courtesy, that was all. A courtesy I did not feel I deserved and much less, wanted to deal with. Still, if ever there was one thing that got me into trouble and I could not fight against, that was curiosity.

While, a week a go, I suddenly resolved not to go, another visit (this one an equal mix of threat and friendship) made it quite clear that I had only little choice in the matter. Still, I think it's a bloody stupid idea; but then again, most of my life has been a series of stupid ideas.

[To be Continued]

Speedgrapher

It Could Happen to You!

2008-11-28T13:40:00.007+02:00

Ergo Proxy

Literary Section X - Prometheus Goes to Print!

2008-11-28T04:45:00.005+02:00

By now, I believe you know pretty well that I am always working on some project or another, be it for Ordre de Ciel, journalism, blogging, photography, or whatever. What I hadn't been able to accomplish so far, was to publish a piece of original fiction outside of my blogs(s). Well, that day is finally here. Remember when I had told you there have been some interesting development with Prometheus, a character you have read about here? Well, a detective story featuring him has gone print and is now finally published. Mind you, it takes place some 30 years after the stuff you have read here and no mention is made of his Wyrd nature. But rest assured, it is him alright!

Around Winter, I was asked to write a detective story that would somehow integrate an ecological theme into it. I thought it over, turned it around in my head and at first, I came up with just two simple elements that just HAD to be part of the story: a character that had been growing inside my head for the past 8 years, Prometheus, as well as something to do with radioactive waste. It was not much but it was a start (even more so because Prometheus has an extensive "biography" I could draw upon).

By April, I had my final text and I delivered it: my "Double Substitution Crime". After a number of back-and-forths between me and the corrections editor, it finally left my hands in late June. Ever since that day, I have lived with the silent anxiety of seeing my story published in this collection by Kedros Editions, "Ecocrimes". Until yesterday, besides the people in the editions proper, only my family and two other souls knew about this project, sworn to secrecy. Now that, as of today, it is out there for the world to see, I will live with the silent anxiety that people like it. There are a number of heavy literary names in this collection and being the junior of the bunch, I must try and live up to the standards they have set.

Well, that's that then. I feel exceptionally happy and I just wanted to share it with you. Should any of you like, there will be a presentation and reading from the stories of the book on the 3rd of December (12:30), at Ianos Bookstore, in Athens, 24, Stadiou St.

Cheers,

Speedgrapher

Barack Obama: First Black President of the United States, Under the U.S.A. Constitution

2008-11-05T06:18:00.007+02:00

It's official, Barack Obama is the new President of the U.S.A., winning 297 to 135 (if I saw correctly on CNN), thus becoming the first black President of the U.S.A. under the Constitution and not the Articles of Confederation. I do not have much to say about this whole affair just yet, seeing as it's 06:21 here in Greece but as a historical development, I thought I should at least make a token mention, to begin with. More in the coming days. Meanwhile, this is his winning speech in Chicago.

Going to bed at last,

Speedgrapher

Literary Section IX

2008-11-02T23:19:00.004+02:00

It's baaaaaaack!Well, after a fashion. As you might remember, the Literary Section had started with Prometheus's story, split into seven parts. After typing in the Aftermath, I had told you that you would have to wait until the sequel had been written by yours truly. Thing is, events have taken an interesting turn with Prometheus and I had to interrupt my writing the promised piece. No, I have NOT given up on it, not by a long shot. However, it seems that if nearly a year has not been enough to produce it, it's going to be a rather long process.

In the meantime, some other ideas have been popping into my head, one of which is a detective story, part noir and part science fiction, told through the pages of a journal-- But I am getting ahead of myself again. Dim the lights and put on the "Temple of Love" by Sisters of Mercy, sit comfortably into your armchair, on the floor or wherever it is that suits your fancy and start reading the mysterious, bloody and ravaging tale, of...

2 Fools and 300 Sins
Act I: Carnival of Fools
Prelude: "Simplicity"

It ran... ran through streets drowned in mud and free-flowing gutter water, as the unyielding, torrential rain drove cold needles in its muscles and plastered its long hair to its slim skull. Still it ran. Sloshing through filthy puddles that near resembled small lakes in these disrepaired streets, it ran. The coppery dye had half bled away these past few days of constant hiding, fearing and - yes - running. It was no sense of direction that led it to its destination but rather, an inevitable web of irony, lies and sins. Oh, yes, there were many sins in this terrible affair, past and present equally. As for the future, for all its self-centered existence, it knew that the prospect of a future was, at best, an optimistic view on things. Still, it ran, as most who are beyond hope and hopelessness will do.

Now, you have to understand, to the mundane eye, this was no scene of elaborate drama, no noir angle, not even cheap horror flick footage. Passerbys who bothered to spare a glance, saw a creature dressed in a peculiar assortment, of what might have once been clothes of dark fashion. However, the days of running and hiding and slumming had turned this - perhaps once - elaborate attire of pins, cute skulls, stockings and frills, into a very impractical hobo's outfit. It is really beside any logical point to discuss what had been an elaboratre hairstyle and make-up, as the only thing visible was a tangled, odd-colored mop and if one spared a second glance, tears and bruises of mascara, the lips bleeding gloss.

Judging from its general stature (somewhat augmented by what looked like utterly ridiculous boots in such a weather), its build and the - invisible in its running pose, arms wrapped around it tight - small bumps of soft flesh below its collarbone, one would call it female. In fact, purely scientifically speaking, it was a woman in her early 40s - however, as it had discovered, science and life seemed to be at odds. No, more appropriately, science had not yet accounted for the sheer, maddening weirdness of reality.

But let's not get ahead of ourselves, for it has reached a very old building, at least twice renovated and burned down again, at this particular moment in time, boarded up. The LED-sign has been long cast into darkness and the abuse, both of its history and the weather, have almost completely covered it in a shroud woven of filth and muck. Ah, but it remembers the entrance reserved to the soul-keepers of this place of yore and amazingly, almost in a stroke of ridiculously improbable luck, it yields to its desperate efforts at gaining entry.

After it closes the door to the deafening sounds of the outside world and the sadistic persistence of the rain, it collapses in a heap of aching knees and sore body. Though it knows it must not sleep, as each passsing moment may bring it closer to... Well, its view of what exactly threatens it is so distoretd and unclear, that it would insult the esteemed reader. Nevertheless, its smudged eyelids weigh more than the Earth itself and it sinks into a slumber of unforgiving dreams. However, it is so exhausted, that the dreams seem distant echoes of darkness.

Suddenly it wakes but dares not open its eyes. How long has it been and how closer have-- But in the near-silence of its own breathing, it hears nothing stir, nor drag, nor scratch. It's small comfort but better than none. Still, its eyes remain sealed with dripping make-up and dried-up tears. New tears of despair and perceived injustice wash some of the muck away form the sticky eylids and yet, it squeezes them shut, accompanied by its own moans. Another small eternity passes and it recovers some presence of mind. It has found temporary shelter but not safety - no, safety is an illusion long dispelled. However, the dead and the ghosts of memories from this place are far preferable to what might be closing in.

It remembers the general outline, though the debris has altered it some. It fumbles down short steps, to the - more or less - circular center space. The railing used to have candles; now, if this ridiculous luck holds-- some are still there, quite a few in fact. Wonderful. It sets its heavy load beside it and searches for its lighter. There it is, still working: obediently, it lights up and passes its light to three of the remaining candles. No chance of warmth but the shelter from the rain, the silence and the sudden presence of even these meager flames, gives the hunted a moment to pause and look at the geometric, stylized sign on the zippo. New tears and moans emerge, more briefly this time.

It sits down, shivering, and draws the rectangular object near it. Nothing but the case is wet. The crafty bastard had a way with such things, it thinks, as it carefully opens the case. It removes the black tome from inside and sets it on the dry ground, for fear of ruining it before reaping the secrets inside. It's simple black, with only the occasional blemish of use. A magnetic strip keeps the cardboard covers shut, a Japanese ideogram burned on the front: "Simplicity", he had said. How this thought bings it terror! However, for all its apprehension, it must know, it must witness as only he who did not forget and apparently, did not forgive, could.

The magnetic strip does not resist much, and the covers give their place to creamy-white paper, filled with small, inky handwriting. It is this moment it had longed for, since losing all hope of claiming unlawfully, what it had truly desired. This terrible moment of truth. This man's memories. It closes its eyes, takes a deep breath and starts reading:

September 6th, 2028

Blast this verdammt weather! I had hoped that the summertime would hold a little longer but it's just my luck: the humidity just had to go up, two days before the opening and the old wound has been acting up like a real bitch. Ah, to hell with it, I will just...

[To be Continued]

Speedgrapher

The "Culture" of BIOS: Unprofessional, Uncooperative and Rude

2008-10-26T16:02:00.001+02:00

Yes, I know you ALL really expect some pictures from the past two days, since not only is there material from Audience Killer Loop IV but also from yesterday's... Well, we'll get to that soon enough. As always, a little patience people: the first photos will be up on Monday. Until then, let us discuss yesterday's... events. Now, I am aware that most, if not all of you who were there, are very (intimately even) familiar with what happened in BIOS (Pireos 84). However, for the merit of anyone who did not get the full scoop or was absent, let me enlighten you.

As you have seen over the past few weeks, Ordre de Ciel were invited to BIOS to organize a Cosplay Party as part of the 24-Hour Comics Day, hosted by Comicworld. I believe that on the part of Comicworld, there was absolutely nothing problematic and we maintained regular contact throughout the organization leading to the event. However, the owners of BIOS, as they have done in the past with JMusic.gr's Karaoke Party, believed it would be a good time to cause problems 2 days before the event. Ordre de Ciel were informed at the time, that the venue offered one CD-player and two vinyl disc players for Ordre de Ciel to use. Now, that was the first foul, since it had been specified, over two weeks earlier, that 2 (mark the number - it looks nothing like a 1!) CD-players and a mixing console were needed. That was ALL that was required from the very beginning and they thought it very logical to inform of their inability to provide it, only two days earlier, throwing OdC (and me along, since I would be guest DJing) into the hunt for a solution. After various failed attempts, the solution came from one of you! Chiroto kindly offered to provide a professional DJing CD-player and his own mixing console, just in case we faced problems even there.

Arriving at BIOS with Ordre de Ciel, we were witness to intense unwillingness to help with the setup. When you go to a venue and use even one piece of their own equipment, proper procedures dictate that they should take care of the setup, since not only one cannot be familiar with their wiring but there is also the matter of liability in case of property damage. We had to go and get the person responsible for the setup 3(!) consecutive times, until he deemed fit to have everything in working order. Be that as it may, Ordre de Ciel were ready to start playing by 20:05, starting with Raven, who played until 22:00 and then had to leave because she is coming down with a virus again, poor dear (hope you get better soon!).

The fact that [room302] got weird looks from the oh-so-adequately-dressed (laughs all around) people tending the bar, when he went to order some warm tea - looks which continued towards our general direction (and figure, the only cosplayers present at the time were Oremo and Nikmer, as Debitto and Allen Walker from D.Gray-man - nothing too extreme really) afterwards - was not really problematic, just plain rude. I guess their high sense of 'culture' has deprived them of any sense of good manners.

Next up was everyone's dear psycho anime geek (yes, I know you love me - talk about narcissism!), who had already decided to go for broke with that particular list, which, as you know by now, was comprised of anime themes by chronological order, starting with 1974's Getter Robo and finishing with 1999's "Butterfly" from Digimon. I will post the rest of that list on Monday, so again, a little patience: I have people to chew up yet.

After my decidedly happy-tralala set, next up was none other than [ru-mu], who planned on getting the (almost gathered by then) Ordre de Ciel crowd up and jumping, with songs (not specifically in that order) like "Zetsubou Billy", "I.V.", "What's Up People?", "One-Winged Angel", "Koi no Megalover" (a.k.a. "Smurfs With Electric Saws", affectionately), "GO" etc. etc. Predictably, you people got up and started having the wild fun you always do. At some point, the setup guy comes over and asks me what's the rest of the program and how many more of us will play. After I answered him and asked "why", he told me that they were thinking if they could change the music at some point. That smelled trouble, so I went to inform [ru-mu], who, correctly, told me that if they wanted anything, they could tell him in person.

Around the time of "One-Winged Angel", [ru-mu] called me over, evidently infuriated. He told me:

"I'm going to put on one more song and then you are up."

"But... err... It's not yet..."

"Look, I will be leaving, so if you want to take over, it's yours!"

"OK, what happened?"

"They told me that 'this music is too Heavy Metal' and the usual patrons have left." ('Too Heavy Metal' is such an intelligent remark from people who obviously know as much about music, as a stripper knows about nuclear physics).

By that time, 80-100 people, some with incredible cosplays, were present, some dancing, others ordering drinks and in general, the place was getting very lively. When we arrived, BIOS had barely 50 people, all of which were just sitting around with a lukewarm beer or a coffee.

"OK, so they have but still, the place is packed."

"Yeah, but they say that there will be trouble, the patrons will not come back after this and they want us to go to the basement to continue. I AM NOT GOING down there. If you want to go, feel free."

"Dude, look at all these people - and some wear cosplays that will suffocate them in there. There is no way I am going."

After that, the owner showed up and tried to 'reason' with [ru-mu]. Fat chance. I took out my second set and waited to see what would happen. The music stopped. The owner came up to me, all 'friendly'.

"Um, is there any chance you will play some pop?"

"What do you mean, exactly?"

"Well, what's in there?" (pointing at the case)

"You can't put a label on it. It's a Japanese compilation; it has all sorts."

"What, like the one before?!" ("One Winged Angel")

"As I said, there's all sorts inside."

"Right, OK, so we'll just have to take the party downstairs, OK?"

"Look, I cannot tell all these people, some with very stuffy costumes, to go to the basement. They will suffocate."

"No, there's ventilation. why will they suffocate?" (Anyone who has gone to the underground part of BIOS and has done serious cosplay, knows perfectly well why 100 people would suffocate down there. Besides, it was a breach of agreement. Ordre de Ciel had been invited to host a Cosplay Party in the main hall, so there was nothing to discuss).

"I am sorry but if you tell me that we absolutely have to go downstairs, I will simply leave.

"OK, so what do we do now?"

The man was either of limited mental faculties or thought his repeating that same question three times, would somehow make me change my mind, when Ordre de Ciel had already made perfectly clear that they refused to subject their people to what the owner proposed. So I left the decks and waited to be given permission to make an official statement about this turn of events. Of course, that was merely formal, since I knew that the sort of people who behave like this, would never have those they have offended make an official statement on the spot. Instead, I just waited until all our guests had left and informed any who asked about the situation.

Oh, we had plenty of fun elsewhere, but that does not mean that the owners of BIOS (and they alone, because Comicworld and 24-Hour Comics Day was not to blame) are not the most unprofessional, uncooperative and rude people Ordre de Ciel and I had to work with so far.

There will NEVER be another Ordre de Ciel event in BIOS, unless the ownership changes and some people who can respect formal agreements and individuality, buy it off. In conclusion, I advise anyone who is not playing music within the strict limits of pop or drum & bass, to not ever try and book BIOS for an event, because contrary to its elaborate title of "Cultural Venue", the owner and management could not spell "culture" if their life depended on it. Even if you do play to their particular tastes, they are still uncooperative and try their absolute least to facilitate the events they have agreed upon. BIOS is a shame to all professional venues of entertainment and all supporters of culture.

The irony is, given the cosplays and attendance, this would have been one of the most successful Cosplay Parties ever, but the owners 'cleverly' thought to insult the organizers and cut it short, leaving BIOS almost completely empty for the night (except for the 24HCD of course).

Ijyou desu,

Speedgrapher

P.S. Here is the official Ordre de Ciel Announcement on the events of last night.

"Where the HELL Have You Been?!"

2008-10-22T13:36:00.006+03:00

I realize this must be on the mind of anyone who has cared to come back here since last month's Hellboy post. Well, the truth is I have been caught up in stuff and have had quite a load of things to go through in my life's backlog, both professionally and personally.

On another note, I have been posting quite frequently in Otaku Lens and editing gazillions of pics, as always, so that left no time to write for other stuff here. Meanwhile, Ergo Proxy has been facing one thing after another, after another (and yet, another) with the Army Service (thankfully ending by bloody mid-November), so he has been unavailable even for a bit of talk, let alone blogging.

However, these things being as they may, Easy Subjugation is by no means dead and will be picking up as of November again. As I had written in the last posts during Summer, there will be a slight change of direction, as all the heavy duty Japanese posts will be now hosted in Otaku Lens.

If any of you have read (if not, go read it) and remember (again, if not, go read it) Breaking Into Politics (with a Sledgehammer), you might recall that I am not real big on politics. Sure, I follow the news, both online anf off, read papers, listen to the radio, etc. etc. That is how I knew we were dangerously close to a "Krach", not unlike the one of 1934 ("Depression" is a great no-no word - oops, did I say that out loud?) and that everyone who was anyone, was running panicked to hold it back (well, except the people stealing hard-earned money at the Stock Exchange, under the COMPLETE consent of the law!). However, I do not enjoy blogging politics...

Opening YouTube to find something interesting to post here, all the top videos are, well... U.S.A. elections and Barack Obama related. Why is that? Well, simply, because the U.S.A. have brought themselves to the brink of economic catastrophe, endangering the rest of the world along with them; except for the Chinese, to whom they practically owe a debt so huge that they can NEVER hope to pay off "conventionally" (if you get my meaning). Is it the fact that Obama may be the first-ever colored President of the U.S.A.? Noooooo! It's just that people hope he will somehow make the U.S.A. a giant again. Well, that part is not hard. It IS a giant - substituting those clay feet with something sturdier, might be a bit tricky though.

As I am writing this, I made a background check to make sure I have not - somehow - missed any prior African-American U.S.A. President. Lo and behold: Google turned up "5 Black Presidents". According to it and according to the stated source, people should consider among those (1) Thomas Jefferson (2) Andrew Jackson (3) Abraham Lincoln (4) Warren G. Harding, based on their ancestry, i.e. supposedly their "black" DNA! Now, I am not an expert on racist matters but I am not sure this is a good way to look at it. Even if it is, anyone whose IQ rates higher than a turnip's, knows perfectly well that racial segregation had much less to do with modern genetics or family trees, than it had with politics, economy, religion and plain old-school xenophobic prejudice. However, press on the link above and read the source: I found it immensely funny.

On the other hand, I might be wrong...!!! Digging around some more, I found this interesting bit (read the second from "Other Answers") in Yahoo!Answers. However, if you are ready to consider I am wrong, you might have to consider that these U.S.A. are NOT the same with the original ones... since THOSE U.S.A. were established through the Articles of Confederation and NOT the current Constitution. the Articles became operative in 1781, after the Revolutionary War. Under those Articles, the first President was John Hanson, from 1781 to 1782 and not George Washington.

I might add that the American Constitution was signed in 1787 (and this is the scanned version) and colored people were not allowed to vote until after the end of the Civil War, in 1865. Even then, the Jim Crow Laws of the 1900s greatly restricted any bid for equal treatment, let alone power.

But listen to me ramble on and I am not even American... I know what, let us leave all these uncomfortable things aside and have a look at Michael Moore's "SICKO". Guy's a million laughs alright...

Do you know what the worst part is? From personal experience, I can tell you, the Greek Health Care System is nearly as bad as that of the U.S.A. (except, Greece is so miniscule by comparison, that the problem has not grown THAT out of proportion).

Well, that is all for today. I just wanted to holler and say we're still here and I ended up discussing politics and American history, with a bit of health care for icing. My trains of though are positively weird.

Take care,

Speedgrapher

Hellboy II: The Golden Army - Del Toro and Loving it!

2008-09-13T13:41:00.008+03:00

Hello again dear readers. With all the new Japanese event-related stuff moved to Otaku Lens, there is finally room here to write about OTHER media consumption and what better way to start the new season, than the new Hellboy movie?

The story of how I got to see it on the 22th of August (journalists' premiere) is rather long and colorful, so I will stick to the main points: I do PR for the publishing house that publishes the Hellboy and BPRD comics in Greek (Jemma Press), so it fell to me to arrange some joint publicity projects with United International Pictures (UIP), among which, producing the leaflet to be distributed at movie theaters in Greece. I will not go into detail about this but suffice to say, if you thought red tape was labyrinthine in Greece, you should check out the USA. However, the end result looks cool and I am proud of it (mind you, the comic book related text is mine and I have just- ahem - suggested some touches here and there; the rest is the graphic artist's work).

Well, the movie opened just the day before yesterday to the public, so I will not be saying much about the story proper, for spoiler-prevention. Though I also enjoyed the first movie, it seems very likely that the purpose of the first was to fund the second, which was left completely into del Toro's hands, allowing for the creative freedom to deliver his trademark stunning visuals and very "Toro-esque" special effects and make-up.

Angel of Death.

The story begins with a scene from Hellboy's past, around 1947 (with young Hellboy created by Montse Ribe, del Toro's Special Effects Make-Up Artist and voiced by Colin Ford), on Christmas Night, when Trevor Bruttenholm (pronounced "Broom") reluctantly agrees to tell the young demon boy a bedtime story. The bedtime story comes from a book apparently relating the tales of an amalgam of ancient Lemuria, the Celtic Elfland and a spot of Norwegian mythology . The story goes that at the Dawn of Man, who had been created with a hole in his heart, mortals and the magical races found themselves at odds and humans started expanding by way of bloody war (the reason why the humans had so much success in their warfare, though left unspoken in the movie, is the fact that they bred faster than the ancient races and wielded cold iron weapons, the absolute anathema to magical beings, as related in many mythologies).The story continues with the Goblin Mastersmith offering the Elf King Balor to build an indestructible army, 4900 (70 times 70 soldiers) strong, in order to defeat the humans (this is decisively Norwegian in origin, seeing as Goblins, Dwarves and Trolls are related to metallurgy in those mythological circles). Prince Nuada implored his father to accept and hence the Golden Army was made: powerful, ruthless, unstoppable, controled by those of royal blood, if unchallenged. The Magical Races won the war and all but eradicated the humans. However, seeing as the Elf King was benign at heart and hated the loss of any life, he made a pact with the humans and split the Crown of Power into three pieces, that it may not be used again, thus ending the war and making way for the Age of Man.

This is the background of the movie and I will restrict myself from saying who, of these characters mentioned, play any role in the events unfolding therein. However, it might be interesting to know that these are not you proverbial father's (or Professor Tolkien's) Elves. They are a mix of the Tuatha de Danaan, the godlike race to rule Ireland after the Fir Bolg and the Daoine Sidhe, "The People Under the Hill". Prince Nuada was one of the Tuatha de Danaan, also called Nuada Argatlam, "Nuada of the Silver Hand" (a theme found also in the Norwegian sagas with Tyr), whose legendary sword was certain death to anyone and a Danaan treasure. Interestingly enough, in del Toro's version, Balor is the one-handed King, whereas in Celtic legends, Nuada was the one to step down from the throne, when he lost his hand, since a king could not be lacking in any way.

Prince Nuada.

This whole sequence about the war of Men and the Mythic Races is done in 3D-modeled wooden marionettes (on second thought, they could be actual marionettes and if that is the case, the value of this movie has just soared to the next level), with John Hurt's voice narrating in its most singular fashion. The rest of the movie is a visual and acting roller-coaster, with, if you ask me, merely one low point and that's at the very beginning: Hellboy's and Liz Sherman's relationship problems. Nobody cares, it's not really that funny and Director Manning whining doesn't actually add anything to the funny element. Other than that, from the Goblin Market to Manning being replaced by Johann Kraus (more steampunked than in the comic books and freaking AMAZINGLY voiced by Seth "Family Guy" McFarlane), the movie is one cool surprise after another. Seriously, I may not like "Family Guy" but McFarlane is the whole essence of Johann in the movie ("Herr Manning, you can suck my ectoplasmic Schwannstucker!").

The BPRD (Bureau for Paranormal Research and
Defense). Left to right: Johann Kraus, Abe Sapien
Hellboy, Liz Sherman and Prince Nuada with Princess
Nuala in the background.

The general outline of the story, as you may have read elsewhere, is Prince Nuada wanting to awaken the Golden Army and wage war on Humanity, for their many crimes against the planet and the Old Races and the BPRD's effort (here's hoping we see Roger the Hommonculus in the next movie) to thwart him. Other than all the major coolness so far, as well as del Toro's personal brand of monsters (the Angel of death simply ROCKS!), there are a number of issues addressed, like the characters' feeling of belonging (note: they are all supernatural creatures), the whole "protecting those who may hate you" seen in everything from X-Men to Spider-Man to the Dark Knight but with the whole new perspective of: the Mythic World is in fact dying and Hellboy is one of Humanity's primordial fears, a Demon incarnate, so there will be quite a bit of soul searching, very moving moments for those who have a soft spot for the Fey and some well-placed heartache for the characters.

All in all, it is a movie I would readily rate with an 8 out of 10, always from the perspective that it is addressed to a fantasy-loving audience. The news that del Toro is taking on "The Hobbit", as well as a movie concerning the 60 years between "The Hobbit" and the "Lord of the Rings Trilogy", are rapidly making him my favorite director. If the animatronics of "Pan's Labyrinth" and "Hellboy" are any indication, we are in for a treat!

Signing off,

Speedgrapher