Sunday, August 20, 2006

Nocturnal Curry and Arboreal Cybermen

I gave brother-in-law Joe a hand loading all his belongings into the car he'd hired to take them all back to London on Saturday. Like me, his worldy goods feature lots of books, PC hardware, and one or two items of clothing. About half way though the process of decanting all this through the front door, down the path and into the car, it occured to me that to any uninformed onlooking neighbour, it would appears as though these were my possessions, that Helen must have turfed me out, and that Joe was my temporary refuge.

The place seems very empty without him, but the spare room was swiftly filled by Lesley, who Helen's known since university. She's unbelievably energetic, and despite having come up from Essex that morning, we still went out and took in two Fringe shows, including the superb Janey Godley's Blog. See it if you can - she speaks with more authenticity than anyone else I've heard this year. On then, to the unbelievably crowded Spiegeltent for a quick catch up with some friends, and then on for a merely average meal at Kurry Bar. We didn't leave until midnight, which is pretty late for me these days.

The girls went off to see some more art exhibitions today, leaving me with a rare treat - a Sunday to myself, which I filled with gym, swim, iron and tidy up, punctuated by about a gallon of Earl Grey. I feel fantastic - it's all been a bit of a whirl recently, and a day to potter is just what I needed.

While checking the cover of the video for The Tenth Planet, which I'm currently enjoying, I saw to my baffled amusement that this story, set at the South Pole, has been illustrated with a landscape of trees, and even, if I'm not mistaken, a few birds as well. See for yourself:
I've also been listening to the narrated version of the story, which prompted me to also listen to David Banks' Origins of the Cybermen CD again. I'd forgotten that while taking Occam's Razor to the disparate hints given in the televised adventures, he'd also been playing Velikovsky, accompanied by some incidentals that sound like what happens when you mix up your MIDI channels and play a drum part using a flugelhorn patch. It's the product of a slightly obsessive genius, and fortunately Banks sounds like a cult leader rather than a train spotter, so the effect is rather powerful.

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