Monthly Archives: October 2013

The Doubleclicks – Nothing to Prove

I apologise now to anyone kind enough to follow more than one of my blogs. This is going to be a cross-post.

 
It’s just BRILLIANT and I’m actually a little emotional after reading many of the placards. 
 
For such a long time I would refuse to call myself a geek (aside from the whole ‘do I really need to put a label on this?’) because I felt that I hadn’t anything like the knowledge base to justify the title. 
 
 
It was meeting people like @SteveCult, @BookElfLeeds @Cidergirli, @LYOC8, our awesome Browncoats captian and the team at @OKComics that demonstrated that ‘Geek’ isn’t a closed garden, a preserve of tech wizards – rather it’s anything that makes you passionate, inspires you and teaches you outside of the mainstream. 
 
Fortunately, I’ve never encountered any gender based bias so I would have been just as happy to have an equal gender mix of geeks represented in the video. 
The cons that I attend are usually fairly evenly split and the guys that attend aren’t dicks so it’s never been an issue for me personally, ditto with my book clubs and certainly within the Whedon fandom, equality and inclusion tends to be a given.  
But from the reports coming out of certain sections of the gaming community and fandom as a whole in the US, I appreciate the need for this song and the wonderful representation it provides. 
 
Anyway, sorry this is a bit long. And possible lacking in coherency. I’m just in the midst of having all the *feels* right now. 
 
Must be a chick thing right? 😉  

A Nightingale Falling Trailer

OOO, a film has been shot in a town – Daingean –  very close to where I grew up. So lovely to see familiar places!

Some of my friends are going to be making cameo appearances (though not in the trailer sadly) so much excitement!

BLURB

Set in Ireland during the War of Independence, two sisters’ lives are changed forever as they care for a wounded soldier. What transpires is a tragic love story of a household & its inhabitants, caught in the crucible of dark deep secrets.

Happy National Poetry Day!


Television
Roald Dahl


The most important thing we’ve learned,
So far as children are concerned,
Is never, NEVER, NEVER let
Them near your television set —
Or better still, just don’t install
The idiotic thing at all.
In almost every house we’ve been,
We’ve watched them gaping at the screen.
They loll and slop and lounge about,
And stare until their eyes pop out.
(Last week in someone’s place we saw
A dozen eyeballs on the floor.)
They sit and stare and stare and sit
Until they’re hypnotised by it,
Until they’re absolutely drunk
With all that shocking ghastly junk.
Oh yes, we know it keeps them still,
They don’t climb out the window sill,
They never fight or kick or punch,
They leave you free to cook the lunch
And wash the dishes in the sink —
But did you ever stop to think,
To wonder just exactly what
This does to your beloved tot?
IT ROTS THE SENSE IN THE HEAD!
IT KILLS IMAGINATION DEAD!
IT CLOGS AND CLUTTERS UP THE MIND!
IT MAKES A CHILD SO DULL AND BLIND
HE CAN NO LONGER UNDERSTAND
A FANTASY, A FAIRYLAND!
HIS BRAIN BECOMES AS SOFT AS CHEESE!
HIS POWERS OF THINKING RUST AND FREEZE!
HE CANNOT THINK — HE ONLY SEES!
‘All right!’ you’ll cry. ‘All right!’ you’ll say,
‘But if we take the set away,
What shall we do to entertain
Our darling children? Please explain!’
We’ll answer this by asking you,
‘What used the darling ones to do?
‘How used they keep themselves contented
Before this monster was invented?’
Have you forgotten? Don’t you know?
We’ll say it very loud and slow:
THEY … USED … TO … READ! They’d READ and READ,
AND READ and READ, and then proceed
To READ some more. Great Scott! Gadzooks!
One half their lives was reading books!
The nursery shelves held books galore!
Books cluttered up the nursery floor!
And in the bedroom, by the bed,
More books were waiting to be read!
Such wondrous, fine, fantastic tales
Of dragons, gypsies, queens, and whales
And treasure isles, and distant shores
Where smugglers rowed with muffled oars,
And pirates wearing purple pants,
And sailing ships and elephants,
And cannibals crouching ’round the pot,
Stirring away at something hot.
(It smells so good, what can it be?
Good gracious, it’s Penelope.)
The younger ones had Beatrix Potter
With Mr. Tod, the dirty rotter,
And Squirrel Nutkin, Pigling Bland,
And Mrs. Tiggy-Winkle and-
Just How The Camel Got His Hump,
And How the Monkey Lost His Rump,
And Mr. Toad, and bless my soul,
There’s Mr. Rat and Mr. Mole-
Oh, books, what books they used to know,
Those children living long ago!
So please, oh please, we beg, we pray,
Go throw your TV set away,
And in its place you can install
A lovely bookshelf on the wall.
Then fill the shelves with lots of books,
Ignoring all the dirty looks,
The screams and yells, the bites and kicks,
And children hitting you with sticks-
Fear not, because we promise you
That, in about a week or two
Of having nothing else to do,
They’ll now begin to feel the need
Of having something to read.
And once they start — oh boy, oh boy!
You watch the slowly growing joy
That fills their hearts. They’ll grow so keen
They’ll wonder what they’d ever seen
In that ridiculous machine,
That nauseating, foul, unclean,
Repulsive television screen!
And later, each and every kid
Will love you more for what you did.

 

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