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Showing posts from July, 2019

Gallifreyed

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When not writing books or advising students I've been enjoying listening to assorted people on YouTube reviewing Doctor Who, discussing plot lines and the like (Geek Pride, I'll happily wear that badge). So I've joined the throng and reviewed a few classic episodes myself, which is likely to be of minimal interest to the handful of people who follow this blog - but for the one or two who enjoy British science fiction here are my thoughts on serials that I have enjoyed (the aim is to talk mostly about the things I like and hope to see more of in future, rather than being overly critical of what I dislike). I will sporadically add more reviews in future...or do I mean past... it's all so timey-wimey I get confused. This is more self-indulgence than any realistic sense that anyone gives a damn what I think about a TV show, but if anyone has adventures they like that they want to suggest for review do say. It's nice to share a geeky enthusiasm every once in a while.

Goodbye old friend

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My 18-year old husky (pictured snoozing on holiday a couple of years back) died yesterday morning after suffering a very debilitating stroke that robbed him of his ability to walk. He was my friend and companion for nearly two decades in good times and bad and seeing him fall so very ill and die broke my heart. I miss him. I wanted to tell a story about huskies from Chukchi lore (the tribe that have been breeding snow dogs for 3000 years) and have looked into a few obscure myths, but the detail is scanty and my ability to create is at an all-time low (and it was never that high to start with). I include below a poem for him, which unfortunately uses rather forced rhyme due to my inability to come up with anything better. It is followed by another poem written to commemorate Gwynn by Terry Stannard-Smith. For my Boy Gwynn Blue the eyes that held my heart, Closed now – darkness veils with sleep, How long shall we be apart, Till once more our meeting keep? Your empty

Rock and a hard place

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This rather graphically violent story, worthy of a Quentin Tarantino film, is a composite version (drawing on elements from several differing versions, but mostly that written down by Pausanias) of the mountain-spirit Agdistis who was born both male and female - but "adjusted" by Dionysus for reasons that are never wholly clear. When the dual-sexed Agdistis is forcibly made wholly female she becomes identified as the goddess Cybele. The story extends to include the episode with the handsome Attis and the wedding from hell. There are a number of King Midas's associated with the kingdom of Pessinos, and I have decided rather arbitrarily to make this Midas the same as the infamous gold-fingered one. That Midas has a daughter named Zoe, though in the Pausanias version of the myth the blushing bride is not directly named. Quite what this story means you will probably need a team of psychoanalysts to work out. It has strong connotations to the kinds of surgery that used t