Ski Time

Claire and I are off to Scotland for a spot of skiing while there might still be some snow left. We’re leaving tonight and we’re back at the weekend (probably on Sunday). In the meantime, we’re leaving The Cottage, Mario, and Luigi in the capable hands of Matt (Hat variety). We’ll be in Preston Wednesday and Saturday daytime, and I’ll generally have my mobile with me the rest of the time if anybody wants me. Oh, and Troma Night will be hosted by Paul this Saturday.

In other news, running Abnib through Pornalize is the funniest thing I’ve done all week.

Guess This Makes Me “Sad”

I guess it makes me pretty much the geekiest person at Troma Night to have, when watching Daredevil, been pissed off mostly not by the shoddy acting or the over-obvious CGI or the physics-defying abilities of the sight-deprived… no; what ruined the film the most for me was that the main character was able to hear a bullet from a sniper rifle coming toward him and dodge appropriately… yes, that’ll be a supersonic bullet he heard coming towards him…

Not the only thing wrong with the movie, of course, but the thing that stood out to me the loudest.

Poker Night, Geek Night, and Troma Night

Just a reminder about this weekend’s events at The Cottage:

Poker Night / Geek Night

As already announced, Poker Night / Geek Night (at which you can either join the poker table or play the usual selection of geeky board games) is tonight at 7pm. I haven’t a clue who to expect.

Troma Night

This week’s Troma Night is called "The Troma Night Where We Had No Fun," because Ellie has insisted that in her absence we’re not allowed to enjoy ourselves. The preliminary lineup looks like this:

We’ll also be trialling an experimental new layout for The Cottage living room, which should improve the availability of soft chairs and reduce the amount of "7pm fighting" that we usually get. Time will tell.

Happy Birthday To Me! Again!

Thanks are due to my Mum, my Dad, and my Aunty Anne for the lovely birthday cards I’ve just received from them. Also to my mum for my birthday present (some Wii nunchucks), a christmas card, two forwarded letters from Nominet, and a copy of Hoodwinked. Additional thanks go to my dad for the two business reports and for the stack of CDs, whose contents I’ll look at as soon as I get the chance.

Also thanks to the mystery person who sent me a parcel late in November. Sadly I may never know what it was or who you are, because it has since been returned to sender or possibly destroyed by the post office.

So why all this sudden influx of post? Well, it turns out that last year, not knowing my address for certain, my mum guessed. The address she guessed was the address of an unoccupied building up the street (except she’d also put the wrong postcode), where my post has been collecting for several months (except for the parcel that was returned to the post office on 31st November and abandoned). More helpfully yet, she seems to have told my entire immediate and distant family her guess, too.

So; thank you all, even mum, you silly old pasty.

And Here’s The Weather

Just wanted to be the first to get a picture online of it snowing in Aber this morning. It started about 6:50am, and it’s pouring down at a steady rate and is just beginning to stick to the ground. Clicky for big pics.

Snow 1 Snow 2

×

Poker Night / Geek Night – This Friday, 7pm

This Friday (9th Febuary) there’ll be a combined Poker Night (run by Claire) / Geek Night (run by me) event at The Cottage. We’ll be kicking off at 7pm. I’m guessing (check with Claire) that the poker will be a pittance-stakes (pennies, maybe pounds) game of Texas Hold ‘Em, tournament-style, with gradually increasing blinds: safe for beginners but still fun for regular players. Meanwhile, those who like their board games more like a conventional Geek Night can join me in a game or two of Settlers Of Catan or Amun Re or something.

Either way, and excuse to drink at a quiet night in. All welcome.

The Ethical Slut

I’ve just been reading The Ethical Slut, by Dossie Easton and Catherine A. Liszt. Well, I say “just been reading” – I actually read it over two days last week (couldn’t put it down) – I’m actually just slow to post anything of interest to my blog, these days.

Anyway; I just wanted to share with you all what a cool book it is (although I appreciate that it’s content, like it’s message, isn’t for everybody). Its a handbook of ethical slutdom – consensual nonmonogamy, for those who prefer longer and better-defined words – and its a veritable wealth of information on alternative lifestyle choices from homosexuality to swinging. Did you know that there was a respected code of etiquitte for orgies? Neither did I. And while breaches of group sex manners are not a faux pas I anticipate having the opportunity to make any time in the near future, it nonetheless makes for fascinating learning.

The thing that impressed me most about the book, though, wasn’t what it gets rave reviews for. Its frank, honest, open and informative coverage of how to have successful polyamourus relationships were extremely good; that’s for sure – certainly great reading even if you’re only casually interested in the subject… but what really impressed me was its coverage of various aspects of relationship management: all as valid, extrapolated from the context in which it is presented, for “regular” serial monogomists as it is for polygamists. It talks about jealously, conflict management, ownership of feelings, respect, distance… all with a healthy dose of active listening on top. Its interspersed with some great stories that the authors (a relationship counsellor and sex therapist) have drawn out of their friends and colleagues, it’s charming, it’s witty, and it challenges you to think about why relationship norms are so popular: things most people take for granted.

The book’s biggest downside: it repeats itself. Now and then it’s easy to find yourself reading a few paragraphs, sure that you must have read this bit before, only to later realise that the authors had copied a whole paragraph to a place earlier in the book, in order to prepare you for them covering it later. It’s a little confusing. Still, highly recommended.

Edit: this comic says it all, really.

Who Wants To Pull My Sister

My sister and her friend are visiting. We’re going out for drinks. Any of you are welcome to join us (just give me a bell and we’ll tell you where we are – not a text, please, I can’t reply); open invite. Pulling my sister not obligitory.

Troma Night At The Cottage

Tomorrow’s Troma Night will be at The Cottage. The plan is as follows:

  • 7:25pm – an early kick-off for anybody who hasn’t seen the latest episode of American Dad – The American Dream Factory – and wants to.
  • 7:55pm – a special extra treat, we’ll be watching what I believe is both the most gay and the most anti-gay music video ever. And yes, that’s one music video.
  • 8pm – kick off as normal: we’ve probably got two special guests, at least one of which is a Troma Night virgin, so the usual rules apply.

Films are yet to be announced – for the last two weeks, people have been suggesting some great-sounding flicks to me (Ele, what was it that you suggested again?), and they all sound great: bring ’em along and we’ll fight over what comes. And, in a suggestive spooneristic turnabout, we’ll come over what fights. Joy.

If nobody is useful enough to remind me of what they suggested over the last week (or people like this plan), we’ll open with the RiffTrax we didn’t get to watch a few weeks ago (what was it? xXx?).

Update On The Weekend

It occurred to me last night, as I was thrashing Jimmy at Wii Sports Tennis and Boxing last night, before we whipped out Golden Axe for some proper old-school co-op beat-’em-up fun, that I hadn’t yet made a blog post to follow up the one I made before the weekend. So, here it is.

Haircut

I’ve had my hair cut. This wouldn’t necessarily be so notable if it wasn’t for the fact that I haven’t done so in… oooh, about 8 years? Maybe more? I woke up on Saturday morning and decided to change it from reaching to my bum to barely reaching my shoulders.

Dan - Shorter Hair

 

It’s taking some getting used to. Whenever I pull a shirt on I still instinctively reach behind my head to pull my hair out from it, and I’m cautious of sitting on it when sitting down.

DanceSoc and Troma Night

Saturday night’s DanceSoc event – Diversion – was great. Beth, Claire and I – along with Jimmy, who came with an open mind but left once he realised that drinking wasn’t solving the problem of him not liking the music – drank excessively and danced wildly. Perhaps indicative of my dancing, at least two separate people tried to buy ecstasy from me (WTF?). It was surprisingly busy in The Bay (both upstairs and downstairs), possibly a result of exam week ending, which helped create a great atmosphere.

Meanwhile, I gather from the discussion on Paul‘s blog, Troma Night failed to kick off. Less good.

Gorillamania 1

Sunday night was the Gorilla Monsoon comedy night, at which I was the first act. The turnout was reasonable, albeit late and seemingly about half made-up of people I know: particular thanks are due to the people who went out of their way to lend me their support – Heather, who looked quite unwell and probably should have stayed in bed, and Gareth and Penny, who zipped over from Cardiff just in time – but a big thank you to everybody who came really!

In the end, though, I disappointed myself a little. The audience laughed at the right places, and groaned at the right places, and the whole segment about bumblebees went down a storm, but I was far too nervous to perform as well as I could have: I forgot a few key gags, on at least one occasion I needed to consult my “panic card” (a 12-line reminder of my show, written on the back of a business card and hidden behind the amplifier), which is usually only there for reassurance, and I generally know that I could have done better. It was good, but it wasn’t great, but I know exactly where I went wrong and what I need to do to fix it.

The comedians from Cardiff were fabulous, too. Of particular note was my favourite of Clint Edwards’ jokes, which I applauded but which nobody else seemed to have got (it relies on knowledge of police issue firearms to be as funny as it could be, which is a brave thing for a comedian to rely upon). Not only did this trio’s skills lead to an entertaining night, but it’s also valuable networking: a little more practice down the line, and I might find myself with an opportunity to perform in Cardiff with them. Win.

The Parcel Mystery

I realise that I never really answered questions asked of me about Matt‘s strange parcel, which arrived the other day. The Guinness glasses box turned out to contain Tesco cookies! A big thank you is due to Matt, there, then. Oh, and Paul – we’ve still got your carton of juice: come drink it at some point.

Right; that’ll do for the updates for now.

Plans For The Weekend

Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls, Abnibbers and Troma Knights: I present to you… some of this weekend’s events.

Friday Night: Post-Exam Curry

Have you had exams this week? Well, sucks to be you. But it’s all over now – come out with us for a curry and we’ll pretend it never happened. Paul‘s behind this one, but if you’re looking for synchronisation so you don’t arrive when we’re done eating, it’s me you’ll want to call. I can’t send texts at the moment, so give me a bell if you’re coming along. Yum.

Update: 8pm, Spice of Bengal. See you there!

Saturday Night: Troma Night and DanceSoc

Troma Night this week will be held at Bryn’s Place (i.e. where Paul lives). It kicks off, however, at 8pm at the Arts Centre, where the classic "Gremlins" is showing.

Why is Paul hosting this week? ‘Cos Claire and I (accompanied by Beth and Jimmy) are at Diversion at The Bay. Which you can come to if you prefer. Up to you. They’ll both be fun nights: one will have a horde of rampaging monsters with a dehydration problem, and the other will involve watching Gremlins.

Sunday Night: Gorilla Monsoon

And I’m sure I don’t need to remind you about Gorilla Monsoon which is on at the Coopers Arms at 8pm on Sunday night. I’ll be your supporting act, and there’s three funny-sounding comics coming all the way from… well, Cardiff… to please and tease you.

Now you can’t say I didn’t tell you.

Diplomacy, Parcels, and WW2 RTS Games

What have I been up to of late? Well, as you ask…

Diplomacy

Ruth‘s game of Diplomacy got off to a fine start, and the backstabbing began soon afterwards. I’m not so keen on the engine, for reasons I’ll discuss later. Here’s how the map looks right now.

Diplomacy Map 211

I’m the red guys down at the bottom who are getting their arses kicked by the purple and brown guys. Very sweetly, JTA (leader of Russia) sent me an e-mail to apologise a little (and gloat a lot) about his recent pillaging of my lands, and congratulate me on trying to set him and Andy (Germany) against one another. It’s kind-of sweet, as I said, but really un-necessary: breaking alliances is what the game is all about.

Plus, it’s not like I didn’t see it coming. My alliance with Russia as a show from the start, but I didn’t realise that Russia planned to attack me so soon (I’d just issued attack orders against him). My mistake was that I didn’t anticipate that Germany side with Russia and backstab me. Memo to self: assassinate leader of Germany.

Sadly, the Diplomacy engine we’re using – phpDiplomacy – has a few interesting bugs that make it hard to work out who’s actually on your side. Here’s an example situation:

The problem with phpDiplomacy

The screenshot is faked, but the situation is plausible – the engine doesn’t accomodate for this. In this situation, the red player has been successfully attacked by the brown player, displacing their army (according to the message from 10:36pm). It’s not possible that the brown player did this alone, in this situation: they must have had help from at least one of – the green army in Piedmont, the green fleet in Venice, the purple army in Vienna, possibly a purple army from the region above (not shown), or perhaps even from the red fleet in Trieste (an unusual strategy, but not unheard of in some unusual circumstances, is to support the enemy against your own units).

But the engine gives no indication which this is. In this situation, the red player does not know which – green or purple – supported the attack. If the red player had alliances with the two of them, they would not know which one had betrayed them, for example. Whoops!

This could make it an interesting (or a frustrating) game. I’m certain that in the near future we’ll see players strategically helping one another perform attacks, without revealing that it was them that supported it.

A Strange Parcel

A strange parcel from Matt.

This morning, I received a strange parcel from Matt in the Hat, addressed to “Jen, Paul, Dan & Claire”. The contents, as pictured, seem to be two Guinness glasses and three cartons of organic fruit juice. I’m not sure which bits are for whom – or even why we’ve been sent this package at all – but I’m sure Matt will enlighten me soon.

Update: I’ve spoken to Matt on Jabber, and apparently the Guinness glasses box does not contain Guinness glasses. And I’m to make sure that Jen gets one of the cartons of juice.

Basically, Matt’s lost the plot. However, he still managed, through his insanity, to pick a selection of objects who’s size ratios made packing them easy.

Company of Heroes

I’ve been playing a lot of Company of Heroes these last couple of days: it’s a spectacular game. It’s been a long time since a real-time strategy game has amused me so much (since, perhaps Red Alert 2, seven years ago). It’s yet-another-world-war-2 game, as if we haven’t seen enough of them of late, but it’s a battle-level strategic game, rather than a first-person shooter, and it does a wonderful job of what it does.

Tanks roll through deformable terrain. Infantry hide in the craters your artillery has blown out. And the whole thing looks and sounds beautiful, from the hushed descent of paratroopers into a muddy field (reflections and all) to the flashes and blasts of a distant battle (complete with radio chatter, or plain old voices if you’re looking directly at the speaker). You can build sandbag walls and minefields, and blow them down just as easily. Don’t want to risk your men down a long, sniper-infested street? Steal some German artillery pieces and blow your way though the walls, then – the whole map is completely reshapable. The AI’s not to be sniffed at, either (although it’s a bit fiddly when it comes to multi-selecting and moving a group of vehicles together and they all crumple into each other when they reach a chicane, rather than taking turns).

It needs a beefy machine to do it justice, which is why I got it – to push my new gaming rig to the limits – but it’s more than just a graphics-fest: it’s also a very clever and gritty game.

So, who’s for a co-op?

Writing Comedy

And, of course, the other thing that’s been occupying my time has been writing stuff to say on Sunday’s Gorillamania event. But I’ve already said enough about that recently, so I’ll shut up and get on with some work.

A Flurry Of Comedic Activity

Wow, my previous post caused a sudden surge of comments. They’re all very sweet. Rather than answer them all individually in the form of more comments, I’ll selectively re-print them here in the form of a dialogue. Well, more like a septilogue, or something. Whatever.

Making Material

Scatman Dan (earlier): Can I produce enough original material by Sunday to make my act long enough to be worth performing?
Heather: Judging by the size of your notebook – yes. I find things always take longer than I think they will.
Scatman Dan: Yeah; but you’ve seen some of the contents of the notebook. I mean, there’s a quarter page dedicated to the investigation of whether the following joke is actually funny (spoiler: it isn’t): “Three gay guys go into a closet. One comes out.” Sheer quantity doesn’t actually make you funny in itself.
Tom Davies: [Yeah, but] don’t be afraid to try new things on an audience.
Scatman Dan: I’m not, usually, but somehow this time I feel like I should at least have something that promises to tickle them. On the other hand, there’ll be three other guys to try to promise that, so perhaps I should be a little more adventurous.

Scatman Dan (earlier): How much of my previous material is acceptable for re-use?
Heather: None of it. I’d be quite disappointed if I came along and you were reverting to stuff we’ve laughed at before.
Scatman Dan: That’s what I was afraid of.
Heather: Actually, if there was a particular thing and you can work one hell of a callback, that’s ok to repeat.
Scatman Dan:
That’s a far more positive answer.
Matt In The Hat: Play it by ear. If you don’t recognise the audience or if you happen to be in the neighbourhood of one of your ‘older’ jokes then use it.
Scatman Dan: Good advice.

Scatman Dan (earlier): Is any of this stuff even funny?
Heather: Yes.
Scatman Dan: Yeah, I know. Like I said, I know this stuff is semi-irrational.

A Lonely Sense of Humour

Scatman Dan (earlier): Why do people keep trying to help me?
Heather: I keep “trying to help you” because I want to steal your reject jokes, and to palm off all my tasteless ones on to you to make funny.
Scatman Dan: Fair play (and I do appreciate your – and anybody’s – help… usually). To clarify: I don’t mind help, but sometimes I really don’t want it. I tried to explain this to Claire the other week – most of the things I end up recording or making a note of for later aren’t even remotely funny. They’re recorded because they might lead to something funny, but if I think too hard about them while they’re unfunny I never get motivated to find the joke in them again. That’s just me being odd.
Matt In The Hat: People will keep trying to help you because you’re doing stand-up comedy. Since everyone is funny at some point some people get the impression that they are an authroity on it. Some people are writers who want you to perform their material. Others are making conversation. What I always found frustrating was that somebody would tell me something that didn’t fit my style and I’d have to smile and nod. I imagine with an absurdist route you’ll be doing that a lot.
Scatman Dan: Excellently put. And you’re very right.

Scatman Dan (earlier): I have a very unusual sense of humour, which doesn’t really translate very well to anybody else. For example, here are several of the funniest things I have ever thought about: [gives three examples]
Tom Davies: I particularly like the thing about lettuce. Punning is possibly the most underappreciated of the comedy arts.
The Pacifist: I did find the lettuce thing amusing. Far too much stand-up nowadays seems to focus on satirical observations or sarcastic… it would be a pleasant change to have puns, surrealism and huge, huge tangents…
JenBanks (via IRC): Lettuce of the Alphabet is hilarious.
Scatman Dan: What do you know; I’m not the only one.

Scatman Dan (earlier): If you come along and see me on Sunday, that’s what you’ll be seeing – the patently bizarre.
Tom Davies: Don’t shy away from absurditiy (or things that Dan finds funny).
Heather: I like absurdity. I like laughing. You’ll kick ass. I’ll buy you a drink afterwards.
Scatman Dan: That’s a promising start.
Matt In The Hat: As I’m sure you know, the absurdist route can be a great one for one-liners. You mis-pronounce soemthing and then turn it into a joke or you just randomly stop in the middle of a set to throw in a one-liner.
Scatman Dan buzzes and does a little dance.

The Curious Things That People Say

Becky: Oh shit, what the smeg’s that word I use… the one were you put your head in some chick’s cleavege? You know what I mean.. now THAT was funny.
Scatman Dan: Mmm… embezzling. But is it more or less funny than The Feather Game? Y’know, sometimes I think that we’re the only people in the world who’d appreciate reverse engineering of a trifle. And I wrote an entire page on that.

Jon: Video the event. It would be nice to see.
Scatman Dan: Not sure I can manage that, but we’ll see. Or wait until I’m funnier. All of the best comedians in the world are over 30, which means I can only get better, yet.

Closing Words

Scatman Dan: That you to everybody who commented, but that there were so many comments of reassurance demonstrates that I didn’t write my previous post very well. I tried, with phrases like “the following semi-irrational concerns“, “I’d been quite frankly shitting myself, until tonight“, and “Thankfully I’ve found a cross-over”, to indicate that since last night, everything’s a lot better. Everything’s slotted into place quite nicely. Claire was revising, so I sat down with some complete strangers and a couple of pints and discussed funny things and then wrote a whole heap of material which’ll kill. Nonetheless, thank you all for your varied votes of confidence; hopefully I’ll show you I’ve earned it come the weekend.

My previous post was supposed to be uplifting, but it evidently came out kind-of bland, just like this one would if I ended it here, inconclusively.

Where Funny Meets Dan: A Little More Confident

Since the announcement that I’ll be starring at this Sunday’s Gorillamania 1, I’d been quite frankly shitting myself, until tonight. The Open Mic nights I’ve performed at previously have been a whole different ball game – after all, nobody expects anything from you at an Open Mic: they get what they’re given. I’ve been bothered in particular by the following semi-irrational concerns:

  • Can I produce enough original material by Sunday to make my act long enough to be worth performing?

  • How much of my previous material is acceptable for re-use, considering that a number of people in the (paying) audience will have seen some of it before?

  • Is any of this stuff even funny?

  • Why do people keep trying to help me? Am I doing that badly?

A lot of this problem comes from the fact that I have a very unusual sense of humour, which doesn’t really translate very well to anybody else. For example, here are several of the funniest things I have ever thought about:

  • Planting lettuces in fields in a formation such that, viewed from the air, they would spell out words. I would call them the "Lettuce of the Alphabet."

  • Inventing a ray that disassembles trifles into their constituent ingredients: custard, jelly, etc – if you crank up the power you can even reverse engineer the custard back to eggs and sugar, for example, or back to a chicken, or back to an egg, or back to a chicken. No, of course it wouldn’t work on cakes.

  • How useful letterboxes are, because it’s very difficult to push a newspaper – especially one of the extra thick Sunday papers – through a solid wooden door.

These are genuinely some of the funniest things I’ve ever thought about. The first of them had me laughing out loud, at random intervals, for several days, and still makes me smile. But I understand that these things aren’t actually funny… at least: by the consensus of the so called "normal" people who unfortunately make up the typical comedy club audience, even in Aberystwyth.

It’s sometimes difficult for me to "get" the jokes that normal people seem to appreciate, except for the crude ones, because the childish part of me (and almost every man, I think) is still amused by rude words. Sometimes I wonder if I’m laughing too hard at a particularly mainstream comedian, to compensate for my deeper misunderstanding of which bit was the punchline. Sometimes I wonder if I think too hard about the whole thing.

Thankfully I’ve found a cross-over where the circles of funny things and things only Dan thinks are funny cross over, and it’s an area called absurdity. If you’ve heard me recite poetry inspired by teapots, or talk about famous people’s birthday parties, you’ve seen what I mean. If you’ve seen me laugh out loud while bombing during a piece of genuine political satire, you know what happens when I try too hard. If you’ve seen a crazy woman do a set in The Angel all about Crab Apple Surfing, you’ve seen what happens when absurdity goes too far (I found that quite charming and with great potential, if a little unrefined, by the audience weren’t impressed, and she saw it). So; absurdity it is. If you come along and see me on Sunday, that’s what you’ll be seeing – the patently bizarre. If it works, great: I’ve got plenty more where that came from. If not, then you’ll see me at a lot more Open Mic nights until I learn to tell a real joke. Either way: it’s a learning experience, and that’s what I’m looking for.

My mum once said, of my youngest sister (who has a very similar, bizarre, sense of humour), she "laughs at the funniest things." That line, in itself, is perhaps the best joke I have ever heard. And I’m not kidding.