Moor News

Thespian action continues, with rehearsals for Fluellen's production of "Othello", in which I play the character of Roderigo. The show runs at Swansea Grand Theatre Arts Wing from 6th - 9th of November, with matinees on the 7th and 8th.

Despite the absence of much else of note hereabouts, I'm not intending to turn this into an "Actor's Blog" - but if occasional updates may amuse, then you might consider following @robstradling on Twitter. Oh, go on...

The Sky's Falling For You

I have never knowingly listened to an Adele song before.

Although it's impossible to conduct a modern life without knowing who she is, what she does, and how heavy she is this week, it perversely requires no effort at all to avoid actually hearing her sing. There's a thesis somewhere on how and when Pop Culture ceased to revolve around actual - you know - pop. This isn't it, though.

I had no complaints when Adele was selected to sing the Bond theme; a chart-bestriding diva like her is an obvious choice. So now I've listened to the song... and while I can't say that I love it, it is the first Bond theme for a while not to actually make me bury my head in my hands in despair. I can hum it, for a start - a priceless luxury. And if those unsubtle Bond chords are only there as a lumpen musical counterweight to drag her back on-topic... well I've got to admit that that works.

Bond songs tend to grow on me, and some have started from worse positions than this.

The Sounds Of Silas

Interrupting my usual epoch-long silence with a modest announcement. My alter-ego, the nascent thespian Rob Stradling (looks like me but spelled with two silent Fs), will be appearing at Swansea Grand Theatre in September, in Francis Hardy's new adaptation of Silas Marner, by George Eliot.

This gig, for Fluellen Theatre Company, represents my bona fide professional acting debut, after three years of mucking about for Love. It's a leap of faith for Fluellen to take a chance on me, and I intend to work my testicles to cashews in order to justify it.

The play runs at The Arts Wing from September 18-20, with a matinee on the 19th. If my appearance isn't enough to tempt you, there will be original music by the brilliant harpist Delyth Jenkins, fresh from her Voice on the Path tour. Delyth's compositions are already providing a soothing and inspirational backdrop to rehearsals, and the results are sure to be a treat in themselves.

Khan's Explosive Replay

Mass-murderer, tyrant and all-round historical bad-boy Genghis Khan prepared for his sweeping attacks on medieval Eurasian populations by playing the popular computer game "Civilization", according to new research.

"Civilization, or 'Civ' as we call it, contains many graphic scenes of invasion, genocide and diplomatic aggression" said Dr. John Packman-Dunnett, lecturer in Digital Perversions at Whitehouse College, Durham. "Its online communities are the perfect breeding-ground for would-be dictators and violent revolutionaries to hone their skills."

New evidence unearthed by Dr Packman-Dunnett's team of researchers strongly suggests that an early version of Sid Meier's classic turn-based strategy game was played by young Genghis with his friends on the steppes of Mongolia in the 12th Century. Written parchments apparently show references to Civilization gameplay; one hastily-scribbled line of heiroglyphs appears to say "...Give us more swords, noble leader" and later, "We laugh at your puny threats!"

"This material is clearly inflammatory, and would have had a formative influence on the mind of a young peasant in such turbulent times" said junior researcher Mario Zeeval, "playing this game gave Khan the tools to sweep across Asia in a frenzied killing spree."

Lawyers for MicroProse, original makers of Civilization, have denied that early "beta" test versions of the game were released to the medieval Asian market without proper safeguards and age-restrictions. But this rings hollow to critics, who will see this as another example of the dangers of an unregulated video games industry.

"Where do we think the next Genghis Khan is coming from?" asks Packman-Dunnett with barely-concealed horror. "Is he upstairs in your own home, right now, selling his libraries to build catapults...?"



This post is a satirical response to this story in "The Guardian"... Shame on them.

Britain's Football Fans "Vilified", Warns Hill

Football fans are being "persceuted" and "marginalized" in modern Britain, according to Fulham legend and former "Match Of The Day" presenter Jimmy Hill.

Hill claims that the interests of fans of the "beautiful game" have been systematically attacked by "...the creeping establishment of a new orthodoxy made up of women, sport-haters and people with a so-called 'sense of proportion'."

"In modern Britain, it seems it's okay to like rugby, lacrosse, bongo-bongo-ball or somesuch" he continued, "but woe betide you if you like a harmless bit of footie. Football is being driven underground. Just take a look at the TV schedule - you'd be hard-pressed to find more than 4 hours of soccer-related content per day on any one channel. Some channels show no football at all!"

Pointing to a spate of recent stories about football fans being prevented from wearing replica shirts in the workplace, Hill cites these as further evidence of an anti-football groundswell. "It's outrageous that people can't turn up for work in a garishly striped nylon vest bearing an inapproproately prominent sponsor's logo. I mean, what's wrong with that?" he pleads passionately. "Some people say they look 'common', but they cost more than an M&S cotton formal shirt and a silk tie, for heaven's sake. It's just more soccerphobia, it's truly disgusting. They wouldn't dare tell a cricket fan he couldn't wear his shinpads to work, just because he was a swimming-pool attendant or something."

Prominent academic and football critic A.C. Pevsner recently accused Hill - amongst other soccer luminaries - of being "...unable to access reality in non-football-related terms", a charge which the "Hero of Highbury '72" firmly rejects. "Not only did Pevsner come at me with a meritless ad hominem argument" Hill retorts, "but he did so from what was quite clearly an offside position."

Speaking from an office in the £800m Wembley Stadium, Hill bemoaned the gradual erosion of football values in this new society. "When was the last time you someone throw themselves to the floor, writhing in imaginary agony when approached by a stranger? That kind of thing is frowned upon now, apparently. Excessive gambling, getting in fights at airports, wife-beating; all these time-honoured traditions are under threat because of the dictats of a few trendy intellectuals and judges. The innocent, every day football fan has become a pariah in his own country." he continues, "He can't even chant one of his sacred hymnals in public without being castigated for sexism, racism, or queerbashism or whatever."

But not everyone agrees with the prognathous pundit. Alison McDonnegal, chairperson of pressure group "Not Again, Isn't There Something Else On?" (NAITSEO) responded "For Mr. Hill to suggest that football fans are being persecuted is disingenuous in the extreme. Some people don't like football. Get over it."

This post is a satirical response to this story as reported in The Telegraph... and just about everywhere else.

Sax Comedy

H's accomplices, The Women In Jazz All-Star Band, were at it again at the Swansea Metropolitan Townhill Theatre last weekend, laying down swing standards to an appreciative audience of students and old ladies. There was boogie and good times in the moonlight, and no-one disappeared on the flight home. V for Victory.

Meanwhile, I'm in rehearsals for "Much Ado About Nothing", and struggling manfully to get my share of the script before my colleagues chew it all up. Probably the Shakespeare play I know best, finally getting a go at it is a bit like scoring with an old crush at a school reunion. About the only weakness of the play is that the two "leads", in a large cast, get nearly all the best lines. Even in the major role of Don Pedro, I sometimes feel like I'm feeding off scraps. But that's a churlish complaint when dining at so fine a table. Strike up, pipers!

Who Lives In A Shoulder Like This?

I finally underwent arthroscopy (keyhole surgery) at the weekend to perform "capsular release" which - despite sounding like an intriguing option from the menu of a seedy massage parlour - is actually to do with excising inflamed tissue to treat adhesive capsulitis, or "frozen shoulder".

No wince-inducing X-Rays to share this time, I'm afraid; but I do get to walk around in a sling for a few days (again), drugged up the the eyeballs (again), and receiving soothing ministrations from 60s dolly-birds (again)^*, all of which seem to be becoming my regular mid-September thing.

Having to turn down work again due to the sling is bloody annoying. I'm hoping to get a "walking wounded" walk-on, one of these days!



* It works better as a one-liner than a full anecdote, trust me.

Light Relief

First Draw - episode 4

Stone Fever's web series is edgy, uncompromising, often brutal. What it really needed, then, was some fat old guy telling jokes...

This was a great fun cameo to do, with a strong young cast. Director Aaron Fisher and star Jason Goddard are names to watch, so apologies in advance for telling you I told you so at every opportunity.

Kicking Off...

Land of My Father

by Dave Jenkins

Delighted to be finally under way with Swansea Little Theatre's production of this new original comedy. The show runs from tonight until Saturday 20th August, and tickets are still available from the theatre box office on 01792 473238, or online www.dylanthomastheatre.org.uk

Plenty of the jokes still make us guffaw after hearing them 100 times, so we're confident of raising a chuckle with audiences. The play takes a sideways look at Anglo-Welsh relations, often with tongue-in-cheek but always with respect and affection in both directions. You'll fall for Gareth and Bronwen as their love conquers all, but there are memorable cameos aplenty too; I think you'll find Gemma, the waitress, worth the admission price on her own...

Seismologists "Excusing Tsunami" - claim

Leading seismologists have been accused of "Tsunami Apologism", after forwarding several varying theories of the origins of the disaster which killed tens of thousands in Japan in March 2011.

Politicians and commentators have been quick to denounce the theories as "sympathizing with earthquakes" and "excusing catastrophe".

"What these boffins don't seem to realise," wrote blogger ReActionNerys, "is that when they write these bleeding heart treatises on 'body wave magnitudes' and 'plate tectonics', they are giving succour to lawless forces of Nature that are merely intent on wanton destruction. They need to condemn a little more, and understand a little less."

"It's not about 'hypocentres' and 'isoseismal lines' , FFS!" argues @MyOPearce on Twitter, "It's about sheer mindless destruction!!! If scientists can't see that, there (sic.) part of the problem!!!"

Meanwhile, other observers have highlighted the contribution to the Earthquake's destructive power made by the ability of shock waves to freely propagate in the Earth's crust. This has led several leading politicians to call for a partial repeal of the Laws of Physics.

"No-one wants to restrict legitimate geophysical processes." said one minister yesterday, "But when the layer of igneous, metamorphic and sedimentary rock was first laid down, I'm sure it wasn't the intention to allow rogue seismic waves to use it as a medium with which to terrorize and kill."

"Of course, I totally condemn the scenes of devastation we all saw in Japan," said Irwin Allen, Professor of Seismological Science at Didcot University. "But we maintain that studying the underlying causes of earthquake activity can help us predict future disasters, and mollify their effects." His comments were derided by Daily Mail columnist Malady Fillets as "Music to the ears of evil geological faults everywhere."

Straight out of a successful run of "Witness for the Prosecution" with Swansea Little Theatre, and into rehearsals for the next show, an original Anglo-Welsh comedy by Dave Jenkins called "Land of my Father". I'm playing pretty much the only completely English character... which is a bit of a challenge, accentwise. Of course, most of my "Welsher" colleagues think I sound English enough already. Er... no.

Also trying to scramble together rehearsals for a performance of Aykbourn's "Confusions", or at least, some of them. Schedule clashes and cast casualties mean we haven't had a proper run-through yet... two weeks to go..!

No news is bad news on the surgical front, and I'm still carrying my left arm as an idle passenger. Bah. But H & I are on the home straight as regards getting our house sorted out. All the structural stuff is finally finished, and now - apart from upstairs carpets - it's just the painting. You can imagine, I'm sure, how much use I am to her with one arm. I boil a mean kettle, though...

Undoomed

I'm really quite chuffed with this;



It's film student coursework. I was originally intended to read on-camera, but studio time pressures kyboshed that. The result was cobbled together from mere test footage, but for all that, I think it's still a cut above the average student short. I'd love to have had a play in that trench, though...

More like this to come, plus I've got a small role in SLT's production of Agatha Christie's "Witness For The Prosecution". Not quite blink-and-you'll-miss-me; but a good yawn might do it. After "Inspector", I needed something a little less all-consuming, so this is a nice change of pace.

Big Top, Cold Shoulder

I've become the official owner of one of these. Ow. It's been getting steadily worse since my accident and now 2-1B has decided to intervene. He'll be going "through the keyhole" presently.

Other things are going better, specifically in the thespian sphere. "An Inspector Calls" went down well enough, and I've been busy with some short movie parts; some student projects at the Met Uni, and completed work on"The Doll" last month. I'm currently growing a moustache for another studio date next week. That's suffering for Art, that is...

Fire, Blood & Anguish...

After a hideously short, intense rehearsal process, Swansea Little Theatre rolled out J.B. Priestley's An Inspector Calls last night, to a full house. The classic play's presence on the GCSE syllabus has ensured big audiences for the run, which lasts until Saturday 19th.

Last night was intended to be a final dress rehearsal, but demand from school parties was so great that the theatre had to open it up, thus losing us another day from our already tight schedule. Seeing the results as a kind of "shakedown" makes me feel very positive about the remainder of the run.

It's been a fraught and nervous few weeks but, as usual, it all seems worth it when the audience cheers - and, bless 'em, they went for it last night all right! We even managed to survive our stage manager being taken ill at the last minute (Get Well soon, Hannah!) which only increased the sense of a backs-to-the-wall triumph.

Playing the title role gives me a (relatively) easy ride from Priestley's complex, wordy and often repetitive script. Others are not so lucky, and it has been an education to witness - not to mention, a privilege to benefit from - their grace under pressure.

So it's Thanks and Well Done to; Ian McCloy, Deborah Rees, Jeni Lewis, Mark Rees, Piers Morgan-Harvey and Hannah Harries. Troupers, all. You make it easy.

Having My Cake

So anyway, H and I sat under the tree on Christmas morning and unwrapped our jumpers. Yes, we bought each other jumpers. "Darling, it's over. We're middle aged." I said, and hugged her tightly for a fearful moment, as we stared together into the oncoming storm. If the experience contained any truth, then the future will be mostly about baubles...

If I say that I hardly left the kitchen all day it will sound like a complaint, but in fact it was highly rewarding - and not just because of the constant supply of port and chocolates. I reduced raveous in-laws to muffled moans for mercy not once, but twice, and once they had been sent packing loaded with my "Nuclear Ginger Cake 2.0", my triumph was universally acknowledged. Domestic godhood is mine.

Meanwhile, the England & Wales Throwing Things at Australians team secured custody of the burned sticks for another spell, and I got to watch the Ospreys spank the Scarlets back west so hard, what was left of them probably washed up on the Wexford coast. As we always say in these parts, it's not really Christmas until you've stuffed the Turks.

It's shaping into a highly satisfying Winterval, and it's not over yet. Middle-age ain't so bad.

Demo 2010: An Open Letter In Both Directions

TO THE RIGHT:

STOP characterising the demo violence as an organised anarchist assault on public order. The troublemakers are a small minority, and you know it. The same types turn up to any public demonstration against the establishment, they always will, and you can't use them as an excuse to stop peaceful protest. So stop trying.

STOP jumping to knee-jerk defences of transparently excessive police tactics, like the outrageous intimidation tactic of “kettling” in sub-zero temperatures, or the use of mounted baton charges against unarmed kids. Yes, policing these protests is a bloody difficult job, but you do the Met no favours by leaping to their defence quicker than they do. Oh, and Mr. Plod? The next time you're reaching out to topple some kid out of his wheelchair, you might just want to ask yourself; what could I possibly let him get away with that would look worse than this?

STOP calling for draconian punishments for “rioters” from the comfort of your armchairs. You probably still haven't noticed, but this kind of pathetically faux machismo simply drives down the consensus as to the probable size of your penis.

TO THE LEFT:

STOP pretending that this is about Tuition Fees, an issue on which the NUS and the Coalition Government are about as ideologically conflicted as Ant & Dec. It's an ideological reaction to the very notion of Conservative government, and its root are far wider. Which is perfectly fine – just so long as you admit it.

STOP fuelling the narrative of “Betrayal” by the Lib Dems, who are unable to enact their policy by virtue of (read this next bit carefully) losing the election. Yes, coalition politics is a bit new, and it may seem counter-intuitive that a party in government may lack both a mandate for its promises, and the responsibility to enact them. Boo Hoo. Get used to it. Anyway, even fewer students voted Lib Dem than in the electorate as a whole; and that was bugger all. Doesn't an election “pledge” kind-of carry with it the implicit notion that those you are pledging to will actually vote for you? So, who “betrayed” whom first?

STOP using the tired Thatcher-era language of class war, as if the last thirteen years never happened. When the Government first launched its attack on “benefit scroungers” while ignoring billions in tax fraud, there was an echoing silence from over there. When the Government first let the banks off the hook while planning swingeing spending cuts..? Hmm, still barely a grumble. The single defining difference between then and now, is that “The Government” are now (mostly) from the blue team. Your embittered, righteous fury is actually pure, cynical political opportunism, and shame on you for it. An illegal foreign war that kills thousands; a crusade against the common liberties of ordinary citizens; collusion in torture for fuck's sake; all these things could be allowed to stand, but a modest re-adjustment of Higher Education finance is the cue to unleash Hell? Bollocks.

Now, both of you – go home, calm down, and grow the fuck up.

Secret Messages

So... WikiLeaks, then.

Like a million other, cleverer observers, I find my responses genuinely conflicted. In saying that, I do not imply some 50:50 fence occupation strategy; I am firmly towards the “Freedom of Information” side of the equation. But that doesn't blind me to some simple, pragmatic realities.

Foremost of which is that no human relationship - whether it be in a marriage, between tennis partners, or between national governments and international organisations – can possibly function in an atmosphere of 100% disclosure. During the relentless assault on western civil liberties that has occurred in the last ten years, Establishment voices have been keen to use variations on the mantra, “If you've nothing to hide, you've nothing to fear”. Now, the poverty of that argument stares them coldly in the face. EVERYONE has something to hide; it's how we function in societies. If we knew about others all the little things we find shameful in ourselves, we would all retreat to the caves and eat spiders.

So, if we are to engage in international diplomacy – and even the most reclusive regimes have yet to find a way of avoiding that entirely – then of course it must remain just as possible for two high-ranking officials to have a private conversation, as it is for a co-habiting couple to have a quiet word over the cornflakes.

We deplore the instinct to cover-up when battles go badly, or when soldiers behave in reprehensible ways. But it is those same mechanisms of obfuscation that allow terrorist cells to be infiltrated and destroyed, or hostages to be rescued. If we accept that military operations are sometimes necessary, then military secrecy must be an allowable concept.

Julian Assange has some good points to make, though, when he talks about the mechanisms of conspiracy, and his agenda to erode them. He takes pains to differentiate his notion of “conspiracy” – an emergent behaviour arising naturally from power structures – from the “Big C” notion of moustache-twirling super-villains. His position is undoubtedly extreme, but it can be argued (by which I mean, I have) that extremists are sometimes useful where there is imbalance.

I believe it is clear that the balance between diplomatic utility and military security on one side, and public accountability and civic enfranchisement on the other, is severely out of alignment in the western democracies. As such, I'm excited by the possibility of effecting a shift. And in those limited terms, I support what WikiLeaks is doing.

Clavicle Error

Well, most of that gap can be explained by this;

...which now looks considerably prettier, overlaid with what looks like a mini suspension-bridge. It's been a successful upgrade and Oscar Goldman has expressed satisfaction with my progress towards "better, stronger, faster". Rob 2.0 came out of the sling for good (?) last week and returning to normal now. What can I tell you? Too fast, new brakes, potholes. The law of conservation of momentum. Tarmac. It's an age-old story, to which I have little new to add.

Anyway, recovered enough now to get out on stage again at the weekend, as The Shoeshine continued its sporadic tour of Western Britain in the village of Machen, near Chepstow. A goodly crowd pitched up at the rather well-specced village hall, gave us a fine reception, laughed at some lines even we didn't think were jokes, and rewarded us with some excellent cheese. Don't think that could've gone better? With two or three possible dates lined up for the new year, there's no sign of us stopping soon.

Otherwise, I have some film work lined up for the next few weeks - including a speaking part! -which should provide material for continued bloggage at less geological intervals. That's the plan, anyway...

Sex, Drugs, and... Shoes.

Just about to depart for Bridgnorth, in the depths of Shropshire, where this weekend I shall tread the boards once more as Geoffrey in "The Shoeshine". Also about waist-deep in preparations for SLT's "The Canterbury Tales", enscribulated by my esteemed colleague Brian Willis. In that one, I'm a sex pest, and later a drug dealer... Then there's "Valjean" by Acting On It, which I'll be co-narrating and god knows what else. "The Shoeshine" comes back to Swansea's Dylan Thomas Centre in July.

Got all that?

Sometimes, A Fence Is Just A Cigar. Or Something.

Psychonomy writes about the BCA/Singh affair. As ever, he dons the robes of Devil's Advocate and kicks against the tide in his effort to see the balance in all things. As ever, he's got a point. As ever, I disagree with him. :-)

I think the case is mainly about two things:

1. Whether I can safely call a spade a spade, and whether I can go on to say that claims of its efficacy at - say - sinking battlecruisers are disingenuous, without worrying about whether I can actually prove that the owner of said garden implement knows it not to be a submarine.
2. Whether large organisations should continue to get away with stifling criticism by bankrupting critics in the courts of the 14th Century.

The more important point (2) has yet to be decided, of course.

BCA's fault was in "allowing" (ha!) the development of a public impression that chiropractic could cure a rainy day. Singh's fault was in failing to sufficiently fudge an "unproveable" assertion that was, nonetheless, palpably true to any disinterested observer.

Both faults contribute - disproportionately - to public confusion about a serious issue. Only one of them risks public health. Reckless misrepresentation for gain, compounded by cynical misuse of outdated law to destroy dissent - versus (arguably) "sloppy journalism". Does that really call for "a plague on both your houses"?

Yes, it's in some sense admirable to see the balance in any cause célebre. It's a natural instinct against the wisdom of crowds; that 50,000 Twitterrers can't be right. I get that. But you've got to be squinting pretty hard to find the shades of grey in this one.