Crash by JG Ballard REVIEWED

I'm a fan of controversial books. Therefore, thought I upon hearing of 1973's Crash, which explores a subculture of people who become sexually obsessed with car crashes, I must read this. (Now that's a sentence with words in an order wrongly put.) Anyway, I did just that. Would you like to know my opinions on it? Good.

Crash is, to be blunt, a badly written book. Written in a highly sensationalistic manner, the novel obsesses over its graphic descriptions of hundreds of in-car sexual acts to such an extent that the novel can be little else. There is not much character development, except in the case of Vaughan, the former TV producer who befriends the narrator James and introduces him to symphorophilia (yes, it has a name), who we see deteriorating into a state similar to drug addiction. The other characters, few though they are, have no roles to speak off - they are simply fucked and then forgotten about.

In terms of its ideas and concepts, Crash is in fact very interesting. The interplay between sexuality and technology in modern society may be rather overplayed by Ballard, but it is certainly a significant issue and one dealt with well by the book. Similarly, the hyperreal sense of a blurring of fiction and reality - Vaughan's greatest desire is to die in a collision with the film actress Elizabeth Taylor - is very strong, and one of the most visited themes within Ballard's work. All this is very good.

But the style of the novel, rather than leading to an exploration of the reader's own morality as was intended, seems only to bore and desensitise. Not helped by his constant repetition of the graphic description of sexual acts, Ballard's writing seems to ooze over the page (sorry...!) and the ultimate effect approaches the soporific. Similarly, the thematic assertions of the work are almost ridiculously overstated.On almost every page, Ballard draws a connection between the shape of cars and the form of the human body, in both being sexualised and made into art - I don't think I've ever read the word "stylization" more often.

Overall, Crash is valuable to all fans of dystopia and sci-fi horror as an exploration of the dark side of our advertisement visions of sexuality and technology. But the disengaging style, while ostensibly in order to make the reader complicit in the amorality of the story, serves only to bore them to such an extent that they don't actually care what happens.

6/10

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Day of the Moon (BSDA #20)

Good evening, planet Earth! (Or Europe/Africa at any rate. Other time zones, good day, or something.) It's Saturday - that means DOCTOR WHO. Review starts in five seconds. Five, four, three, two, one -

So it's episode two already. And there's only seven in this half of the series. Schade, as the Germans say. Better make it good, Steven Moffat, I thought to myself at five to six this evening.

HE DID. Whoa. In order to prevent myself from just blathering (and probably slathering) all over the screen for the next ten minutes, I am going to write this review in BULLET POINTS.

Plot - Genius. I'm a massive fan of the late 1960s and of space travel. I thought the way of getting rid of the Silents was absolutely wonderful. The power of people watching something together has always fascinated me, and it was interesting to see Who sci-fi that concept up. And with the old Moffatian trick of there being something we don't know about right behind us all the time, it manages to be awesome.

• Style. Crazy, but in a good way. I felt the episode was a massive mishmash of styles, from creepy haunted house, to action thriller, to political comedy (some of the Nixon lines were utter brilliance), to love triangle story, and that was occasionally jarring. It seems to be a theme of late to switch from style to style to keep the audience on their toes. Mostly I like it. But it can be overdone.
• Timey-wimey weirdness. I love timey-wimey messing around. This episode took that to the MAXIMUM, man. I don't think any scene followed on from the previous chronologically and with the obvious sense of time passing with the Amy in haunted house scene, the whole thing felt very disturbingly uncontrollable. I like. 
• Amy, Rory, River, the Doc - LOVE? This, I have mixed feelings about. I feel the whole is-Amy-attracted-to-the-Doctor angle to be a bit irritating. I really identify with Rory and so it sort of annoys me a bit to see the narrative try to draw you towards the Doctor-love idea. Secondly, the River/Doctor story I find really powerful. It's genuinely moving. I just hope it doesn't turn into slushy romance, like RTD made the Tenth Doc and Rose storyline. As a traditionalist, I don't really like the idea of a romantic Doctor at all. He is an eccentric old alien. But maybe Moffat can make it work. We'll see.
• Why the Silence are a genius narrative device. Because you can mess about with time, implant bits of the narrative elsewhere and create a constant sense of confusion in your viewers. Also it occurred to me that you'd be so screwed if you were in a room with Silents and Weeping Angels at the same time.
• Time Lord Girl? Crazy. Speculation welcome.
• Lady in the door? Also crazy. Apparently she's in at least two more episodes. Weirdness. Are we dealing with more parallel universe oddness? I hope so.

Verdict: 9/10

Right. Bye. Semi-coherent blogpost is semi-coherent. 

Superpowers. (BSDA #6)

Today I was having a conversation with a friend which revolved around the age-old question "what superpower would you have"?   My answer was, verbatim, "to be able to fly quickly. To get to Texas in like 20 minutes or something." This provoked great hilarity in my colleague because of the seemingly arbitrary nature of that restriction - why not instantly, he said, if any power is available? I didn't have a ready answer to that, because it is in a sense what superpower is considered to mean - the exercise of some power above and beyond conventional laws of physics implies a total freedom of choice as to how to operate and dominance over people without such power.

But does it?, I asked myself later, in a moment of deep and tranquil thought. The constraints of comic book fiction mean that no character is universally powerful; all superpowers fail somewhere. X-ray vision can't see through lead, Pyro in X-Men can only replicate flame rather than actually create it himself and shapeshifters are often forced to change back whether they want to or not. So superpowers in the classical sense are themselves constrained by what Terry Pratchett calls narrativium, the physical requirements necessary for a story to operate within an understandable world.

And this set me thinking. Most people, when asked for what they'd like to have most in the whole world, ask for some mechanism to easily create wealth, or the ability to stop time to allow them more opportunity to do what they enjoy, or a way to influence the emotions of other people to create a positive outcome for themselves. (Yahoo Answers knows all.) It occurs to me that these desires, perhaps manifest in superpowers, relate only to one's current set of values. They're a way of solving the problems we currently face in our lives - not having money, or time, or friends, or a lover; why else are all Marvel superheroes either computer geeks or wealthy businessmen? Surely if the concept of superpower is taken to its actual extreme, then the only useful desire would be to totally remove all of society's barriers to success, so no longer would one have to worry about having enough cash for the latest car, because the production process that created it could be controlled in its minute details by and for you. There would never be any reason to need something, or to exercise some power in order to get it, because a proper superhuman would ensure those barriers to success simply didn't exist.

This is the aim of Dr Faustus in Christopher Marlowe's interpretation of the Faust legend. His ambition on first reading seems pointless and without drive, since he is concerned not with money, nor with love, nor especially with knowledge, but with a totality of power that is quite hard for readers to imagine. He wishes that "all things that move between the quiet poles / Shall be at my command", a desire that is in every way superior to the arbitrary desires in comic book fiction, which seek only to propel the character upwards within pre-existing social structures, rather than rejecting them entirely.

It seems therefore that "what superpower would you have" is a really rather complex question. Our answers illuminate our seeming willingness to accept the arbitrary structures of society, governed ostensibly by competition, so long as we can be seen as atop that particular pile. My laughably pointless restriction of the power to fly seems absurd, but it is no more in contrast to the concept of holding power itself than the notions of conventional superhero literature. Superheroes are in many ways conservative; despite holding, between them at least, the power to reorganise society in its entirety, they as characters, and therefore us as readers, are content with realising only their own goals within the confines of their particular societies. A superpower reflects only the desires of the person who desires it, and by demanding, in our fiction as in our lives, only the power to improve within the social world as it currently exists, rather than to reform and innovate, we are failing ourselves.

There occurs a flaw in this argument - whoever spots it and comments will win an entirely arbitrary prize. Also, FOLLOW please. It's nice to see such shining happy faces.

The Baader-Meinhof Complex REVIEWED. (BSDA #5)

So today I watched a film called the Baader-Meinhof Complex, about the Rote Armee Fraktion, the extremist left-wing terrorist organisation which operated in Germany mainly in the 1970s. Let's start with the simple bit. It was an extremely good film which I would recommend to anyone with an interest in terrorism (not in that way, you understand), late German history or social revolutions. Or indeed simply if you like good films. (Parental advisory, of course, given the copious amounts of violence, drug use and nudity.)

Fred Kaplan of the New York Times said that "when the film opened in Germany last year, some younger viewers came out of theaters crestfallen that the Red Army Faction members, still mythologized, were such dead-enders. Some who were older complained that the film had made the gang look too attractive. But they were dead-enders, and they were attractive. A film about them, or any other popular terrorist movement, has to account for both facts if it seeks to explain not just their crimes but also their existence."

I think this is a brilliant review, hence the shameless stealing. The best thing about this film is that it neither totally glamorises nor totally pathologises the RAF - instead it gives you the whole story. The violence, the sexual freedom, the casual misogyny, the brutal murders, the disdain for the law both from the RAF and the authorities, the madness, the Marxian politics and the wider picture of the radicalised German left of the time. There's very little in the way of moralising here; some have argued there's too little. It is the viewer's decision as to how to interpret the actions of the RAF: are they just brutal killers? Sexy freedom fighters? A group with ideals gone wrong? To me, the latter seems the case, but this is a matter of individual interpretation. 

Despite the German film industry only having about four actors, the movie is superbly acted throughout. Even the guys in bit part roles manage to fill you with an understanding of their characters' complexities and the difficulties of living in such a radical and brutal world as that of the RAF. I did however think some of the characters' roles were underdeveloped, and too many characters simply popped in and out of the action randomly, though this is probably a necessary consequence of trying to summarise the actions of a movement over ten years within two and a half hours. 

Whether you watch it as a study of a hugely controversial group in recent history, or as a crime drama, or as a political thriller, there is very little wrong with this film. It was a worthy recipient of its many awards, and is only a part of the 21st century renaissance within German film which happily shows no signs of abating.

9/10

Oi oi oi. If you enjoyed reading this, there's only one thing to do now. No, not hijack a plane or storm the German embassy in Stockholm. Follow this blog. And good stuff will probably happen.

On Animal Noises and Eighties Divas. (BSDA #4)

I discovered two awesome things today; both are characterised by their lunacy, which is at the same time brilliance, as the two concepts are extremely close together. As Oscar Levant famously said: "There's a fine line between genius and madness."

So, to Awesome Thing #1. Beatles songs done with animal noises.

Animals sing the Beatles. (There's a pun there too.)
Youtube channel of the BeatlesBarkers.

I love this album for its utter absurdity, and the way that, while most of the lyrics are delivered by dogs, timely-placed sounds from different animals can bring the house down. Also it's ironic that the Beatles themselves used animal noises in Good Morning Good Morning on Sgt Peppers, so I like to think that John is looking down on the Barkers with approval.

Awesome Thing #2.

This has been on the internet for two years, or in online time about four and a half millennia. Nonetheless it's worth sharing. Bonnie Tyler's surreal video for Total Eclipse of the Heart is given the literal treatment. And given it well.

Aside from a noticeable drop in quality in the middle third, this video does what most literals fail to: satirise the content while retaining the spirit of the original. As a result it is really terribly funny.

That is all for today. Join me again tomorrow for another episode of Animals Do The Funniest Things. Or something.

Well. I hope you all enjoyed that very much. Maybe you should follow. I mean really.

Pretentious philosophical post

The insoluble problem of human existence is defining its goal, its direction, its purpose. The great minds of our species sparked with electric impulses, neural pathways connecting in hitherto unnoticed ways, as their owners wrestled with their membership of this elite caste called humanity, and the consequences of such an association for the activity of the independent brain.

What separates our cognitive biology, in tissue terms, from that of the so-called lower animals, is well known to our psychologists. We have a larger brain in proportion to body size. This, from a purely biological perspective, tells one all there is to know about the mystery of human consciousness. Darwin tells us in The Descent Of Man that “No one, I presume, doubts that the large proportion which the size of man's brain bears to his body, compared to the same proportion in the gorilla or orang, is closely connected with his mental powers.” That, then, may well describe why we have intelligence. We are even beginning to learn from which segments of the brain certain actions and ideas are controlled; the prefrontal cortex, to take a simple example, governs the prediction of outcomes, expectation based on actions, and complex decision making, it is hypothesized. These are known as executive functions: an ironic title, given that they seem all too frequently absent from our senior businessmen and political leaders.

Nevertheless, there is much we do not, and, many would say, cannot, know about the human consciousness. What is inbuilt, what comes from the environment outside – are we at source as bees in a hive or the empty hard drive of a shiny MacBook? Whence comes compassion, whence hatred, whence love? In what sense is there a target for our existence – service to a higher conscience, devotion to an ideal or ideology, or the elimination of worldsuck, perhaps? These questions can be assessed, say the scientists, by their emotionless, empirical method. But there is, it seems, a deeper meaning under the purely measurable, further complexities that underpin the human psyche. Here exists the difference between merely electrocuting flesh and bones, and creating what Mary Shelley’s tale calls “the modern Prometheus”.

A newly created true Man, were such possible, would have more than cells, tissues, blood and mucus – as hidden within the physical cage sits the metaphysical other, the unknowable soul, the undistillable essence of humanity.  Such a concept cannot be understood by a rock, or a table, or a pencil, for precisely the reason that such objects lack a soul of their very own. Without any way of attesting that one lives, one cannot live. Cogito ergo sum, it would seem. When the writers of the Enlightened Age told us that the new extra-human science could explain away superstitious notions of love, God, spirit, they gave up understanding what life means to those that live it. Our goal must be to die without wasting the brief span of breaths and heartbeats on impossibilities; to drive forward the boundaries of understanding, yes, but always to understand that at the centre of our humanity lies a thing, an idea, an essence, that elevates us into sentience, and, as far is it is possible to tell, into a position of free will, of power over our biological instincts, and of liberty to live as beings, and as thinkings, within this universe of our own minds.

NOTE: I am not a psychologist, nor in fact any kind of academic. If the science is wrong, so be it; the philosophy is mine and mine alone.

30 Day Song Challenge

One interesting way to learn things about people, so I'm told, is to look at what music they like. With that in mind, on FB (Visigoth as I am, I do use it) I'm doing this 30 day song challenge. I'll post up the songs here, partly so I don't forget, but also because it will be jolly illuminating, I hope.

Day 01 - your favourite song. Procol Harum - A Whiter Shade of Pale.
Day 02 - your least favorite song. The Gummy Bear Song.
Day 03 - a song that makes you happy. The Monkees - I'm A Believer.
Day 04 - a song that makes you sad. Miles Davis - Blue in Green.
Day 05 - a song that reminds you of someone. Elvis Costello - Red Shoes.
Day 06 - a song that reminds you of somewhere. Buena Vista Social Club - Chan Chan.
Day 07 - a song that reminds you of a certain event. Gil Scott-Heron - The Revolution Will Not Be Televised.
Day 08 - a song that you know all the words to. Devo - Jocko Homo.
Day 09 - a song that you always sing along to. Hank Green - A Song About An Anglerfish, a.k.a. The Anglerfish Song Regarding the Human Mentality In Respect To How to Interpret Perpetually Felt Emotion While Educating You on the Subject of Anglerfish.
Day 10 - a song by someone you want to see live. Villagers - On A Sunlit Stage.
Day 11 - a song from your favorite band. Led Zeppelin - Misty Mountain Hop.
Day 12 - a song from a band you've just discovered. Lone Wolf - The Devil And I.
Day 13 - a song that is a guilty pleasure. 10cc - The Wall Street Shuffle.
Day 14 - a song from an artist you think none of your friends have heard of. The Mountain Goats - Love Love Love.
Day 15 - a song that no-one would expect you to love. Kenickie - Nightlife.
Day 16 - the song that contains your favourite lyrics. The Magnetic Fields - All My Little Words.
Day 17 - your favourite instrumental. Wipe Out - The Ventures.
Day 18 - a song you wish you heard on the radio. Television - Marquee Moon.
Day 19 - a song from your favorite album. The Beatles - She Said She Said.
Day 20 - a nostalgic song. The Kinks - Days.
Day 21 - your favourite cover. Traffic - Feelin' Good.
Day 22 - a song you'd listen to in your car. Driftless Pony Club - House of 1982 Built Like A Ship. 
Day 23 - your favourite song with an animal in the title. The Bees - Chicken Payback.
Day 24 - your second favourite song with an animal in the title. Genesis - The Lamb Lies Down On Broadway.
Day 25 - a song you play air guitar to. Pink Floyd - Comfortably Numb.
Day 26 - a song that makes you laugh. Tom Milsom - Catsongs II: Livia Deliberated.

Day 27 - a song with a great music video. Ultravox - Vienna.

Day 28 - a song that you wish you could play on an instrument. Focus - Hocus Pocus.
Day 29 -  a song that reminds you of your country. PJ Harvey - The Last Living Rose.
Day 30 - a song that is worthy of being last in the list. Simon and Garfunkel - The Sounds of Silence.