The following post originally appeared on the then-newly-revamped Troma Night website. This archive copy is copied back
here for posterity:
This document was originally published on the first Troma Night web site. Changes made during this re-posting are shown in italics.
What happens at ‘Troma Night’?
The weekly ‘Troma Night’ is organised, rougly, by the following stages:
Hype
The first stage of any week’s ‘Troma Night’ is the build-up of hype amongst the stars. It usually starts three or four days in advance, and is characterised by
people suggesting films and generally getting excited about what they are soon to experience.
Claire getting excited about the prospect of watching ‘Caution: Children at Play’
Cleaning
Dan & Claire’s flat almost always looks like a bomb has hit it. As a result, one of the first things that needs to happen is a good tidying session. Kit’s
always good for this, as he’s pretty much treated as slave labour all the time and being allowed to watch DVDs in exchange for his help is the highlight of the week.
Kit tries to start the vacuum cleaner without also starting a fire – Claire and Dan’s vacuum cleaner is a little unsafe…
Booze
Alec undoubtedly arrives later than everybody else, having phoned-in from the off-license to check if anybody wants anything while he’s there. Kit mumbles that
he wouldn’t say no to free beer. Sometimes, other people place requests. Once everybody arrives and the drinking and conversation have begun, the party is underway. Adam brings
another six pack of Fosters and drinks four cans of it, thereby slowly adding to the stacks of the stuff in Dan & Claire’s fridge, which nobody but him drinks. Either everybody brings
Pringles, and we’re all stuffed before the pizza arrives, or nobody does, and we complain at their absence.
Pringles and beer
Pizza
We usually get as far as the first DVD menu before somebody suggests that we order pizzas. Unfortunately this means that we have to listen to the theme music
from some Troma film (which, almost without exception, is tacky) on a loop until we’ve all agreed what pizzas we’re getting and ordered them. This track then remains embedded within
our brains for all time, clogging them and preventing more valuable information from entering, in a similar manner to carbon monoxide in red blood cells
Stacks of pizza boxes after Troma Night VIII
Eventually the pizzas arrive, and we eat them. This is a good thing. Paul, despite being a vegetarian, eats the pepperoni one.
Mmm… pizza…
Movies
Kit and Dan show their appreciation for good beer and bad films
With the DVD player(s) hooked up, we begin the screenings. We typically watch two or three movies in a single sitting, back to back, seperated by a 15-minute
break for those who wish to go to the toilet or engage in idle chit-chat. A third movie tends to put us at about 1:30am, by which time we’re usually exhausted. And if not… there’s
always more alcohol!
We watched three Studio Ghibli flicks – Spirited Away (hadn’t seen this before: really quite impressive, but not quite a Totoro-beater),
Tonari no Totoro itself, and Princess Mononoke. Everybody and his dog brought beer, so we all got pleasantly
sloshed; the pizza was great, we still have mountains of Pringles (mmm… revision food), and altogether the night was just fab.
Ruth brought her boyfriend: GBH, or TNT, or something like that. I’m pretty sure we called him every three letter acronym under the sun during the course of the evening. He’s now the
third Troma Night Partner to be brought along: let’s see if he ever comes back (none of the others – Kit’s …
Vauxhall Corsa: £2,515
Ford Fiesta Zetec: £2,745
Petrol to get the above two cars, containing Bryn, Claire, Kit, Adam, Liz, and me to Shrewsbury and back: £20
Three stuffed-crust pizzas, one plate of mixed snacks, six soft drinks with free refils, two double chocolate sundaes, two portions of chocolate cake, one portion of cheesecake and one
portion of fruity sponge stuff from Pizza Hut Shrewsbury: £68, plus tip
Celebrating Liz’s birthday and a fun night out with great company: priceless
In other news: I e-mailed Emma, the girl I quite horribly dumped for Claire (who I was already sleeping with) about 18 months ago,
and we made peace. Which is very nice, because I was a complete bastard and I broke her poor little heart when I left her. Anyway: she’s doing really well with the guy she’s with now,
who is, let’s face it, far more suited to her than I ever was, and I wish her the best. It feels good to be on better terms with people like that.
Had a heated debate with Paul, Kit, Claire and Bryn about religion, morals, and parenting. And I’m proud to say that
I’ve come to the conclusion that my parents acted in a way that I believe exemplifies the best aspects of morality, tolerance, spirituality, open-mindedness, protection, and honesty.
I’m immensely proud of the way that I was brought up, and wish that other children could be so lucky as to have such enlightened and level-headed parents as mine were for me during my
youth. They… were there when I needed them, but they weren’t always standing over my shoulder. They… were selfless in their dedication to my wellbeing, their love for me, and their
respect for my individuality. And I owe them the world.
In other happy news, my friends – in particular Paul – made me very happy today when they revealed that they had secretely acquired from the states Chez Greek and Chez Grunt, two rare
and brilliant additions to complete my Chez Geek card game collection, which will undoubtedly provide much enjoyment for both myself and all of them in the future. It’s great to have
friends who really care. I love you guys.
I have lots of work to do tomorrow, and a busy weekend ahead of me, so I’m likely to be offline for a few days. Be happy;
Daddy, why did we have to attack Iraq?
Because they had weapons of mass destruction.
But the inspectors didn’t find any weapons of mass destruction.
That’s because the Iraqis were hiding them.
And that’s why we invaded Iraq?
Yep. Invasions always work better than inspections.
But after we invaded them, we STILL didn’t find any weapons of mass destruction, did we?
That’s because the weapons are so well hidden. Don’t worry, we’ll find something, probably right before the 2004 election.
Why did Iraq want all those weapons of mass destruction?
To use them in a war, silly.
I’m confused. If they had all those weapons that they planned to use in a war, then why didn’t they use any of those weapons when we went to war with them?
Well, obviously they didn’t want anyone to know they had those weapons, so they chose to die by the thousands rather than defend themselves.
That doesn’t make sense. Why would they choose to die if they had all those big weapons with which they could have fought back?
It’s a different culture. It’s not supposed to make sense.
I don’t know about you, but I don’t think they had any of those weapons our government said they did.
Well, you know, it doesn’t matter whether or not they had those weapons. We had another good reason to invade them anyway.
And what was that?
Even if Iraq didn’t have weapons of mass destruction, Saddam Hussein was a cruel dictator, which is another good reason to invade another country.
Why? What does a cruel dictator do that makes it OK to invade his country?
Well, for one thing, he tortured his own people.
Kind of like what they do in China?
Don’t go comparing China to Iraq. China is a good economic competitor, where millions of people work for slave wages in sweatshops to make U.S. corporations richer.
So if a country lets its people be exploited for American corporate gain, it’s a good country, even if that country tortures people?
Right.
Why were people in Iraq being tortured?
For political crimes, mostly, like criticizing the government. People who criticized the government in Iraq were sent to prison and tortured.
Isn’t that exactly what happens in China?
I told you, China is different.
What’s the difference between China and Iraq?
Well, for one thing, Iraq was ruled by the Ba’ath party, while China is Communist.
Didn’t you once tell me Communists were bad?
No, just Cuban Communists are bad.
How are the Cuban Communists bad?
Well, for one thing, people who criticize the government in Cuba are sent to prison and tortured.
Like in Iraq?
Exactly.
And like in China, too?
I told you, China’s a good economic competitor. Cuba, on the other hand, is not.
How come Cuba isn’t a good economic competitor?
Well, you see, back in the early 1960s, our government passed some laws that made it illegal for Americans to trade or do any business with Cuba until they stopped being Communists
and started being capitalists like us.
But if we got rid of those laws, opened up trade with Cuba, and started doing business with them, wouldn’t that help the Cubans become capitalists?
Don’t be a smart-ass.
I didn’t think I was being one.
Well, anyway, they also don’t have freedom of religion in Cuba.
Kind of like China and the Falun Gong movement?
I told you, stop saying bad things about China. Anyway, Saddam Hussein came to power through a military coup, so he’s not really a legitimate leader anyway.
What’s a military coup?
That’s when a military general takes over the government of a country by force, instead of holding free elections like we do in the United States.
Didn’t the ruler of Pakistan come to power by a military coup?
You mean General Pervez Musharraf? Uh, yeah, he did, but Pakistan is our friend.
Why is Pakistan our friend if their leader is illegitimate?
I never said Pervez Musharraf was illegitimate.
Didn’t you just say a military general who comes to power by forcibly overthrowing the legitimate government of a nation is an illegitimate leader?
Only Saddam Hussein. Pervez Musharraf is our friend, because he helped us invade Afghanistan.
Why did we invade Afghanistan?
Because of what they did to us on September 11th.
What did Afghanistan do to us on September 11th?
Well, on September 11th, nineteen men – fifteen of them Saudi Arabians – hijacked our airplanes and flew three of them into buildings, killing over 3,000 Americans.
So how did Afghanistan figure into all that?
Afghanistan was where those bad men trained, under the oppressive rule of the Taliban.
Aren’t the Taliban those bad radical Islamics who chopped off people’s heads and hands?
Yes, that’s exactly who they were. Not only did they chop off people’s heads and hands, but they oppressed women, too.
Didn’t the Bush administration give the Taliban 43 million dollars back in May of 2001?
Yes, but that money was a reward because they did such a good job fighting drugs.
Fighting drugs?
Yes, the Taliban were very helpful in stopping people from growing opium poppies.
How did they do such a good job?
Simple. If people were caught growing opium poppies, the Taliban would have their hands and heads cut off.
So, when the Taliban cut off people’s heads and hands for growing flowers, that was OK, but not if they cut people’s heads and hands off for other reasons?
Yes. It’s OK with us if radical Islamic fundamentalists cut off people’s hands for growing flowers, but it’s cruel if they cut off people’s hands for stealing bread.
Don’t they also cut off people’s hands and heads in Saudi Arabia?
That’s different. Afghanistan was ruled by a tyrannical patriarchy that oppressed women and forced them to wear burqas whenever they were in public, with death by stoning as the
penalty for women who did not comply.
Don’t Saudi women have to wear burqas in public, too?
No, Saudi women merely wear a traditional Islamic body covering.
What’s the difference?
The traditional Islamic covering worn by Saudi women is a modest yet fashionable garment that covers all of a woman’s body except for her eyes and fingers. The burqa, on the other
hand, is an evil tool of patriarchal oppression that covers all of a woman’s body except for her eyes and fingers.
It sounds like the same thing with a different name.
Now, don’t go comparing Afghanistan and Saudi Arabia. The Saudis are our friends.
But I thought you said 15 of the 19 hijackers on September 11th were from Saudi Arabia.
Yes, but they trained in Afghanistan.
Who trained them?
A very bad man named Osama bin Laden.
Was he from Afghanistan?
Uh… no; he was from Saudi Arabia too. But he was a bad man, a very bad man.
I seem to recall he was our friend once.
Only when we helped him and the mujahadeen repel the Soviet invasion of Afghanistan back in the 1980s.
Who are the Soviets? Was that the Evil Communist Empire Ronald Reagan talked about?
There are no more Soviets. The Soviet Union broke up in 1990 or thereabouts, and now they have elections and capitalism like us. We call them Russians now.
So the Soviets – I mean, the Russians – are now our friends?
Well, not really. You see, they were our friends for many years after they stopped being Soviets, but then they decided not to support our invasion of Iraq, so we’re mad at them now.
We’re also mad at the French and the Germans because they didn’t help us invade Iraq either.
So the French and Germans are evil, too?
Not exactly evil, but just bad enough that we had to rename French fries and French toast to Freedom Fries and Freedom Toast.
Do we always rename foods whenever another country doesn’t do what we want them to do?
No, we just do that to our friends. Our enemies, we invade.
But wasn’t Iraq one of our friends back in the 1980s?
Well, yeah. For a while.
Was Saddam Hussein ruler of Iraq back then?
Yes, but at the time he was fighting against Iran, which made him our friend, temporarily.
Why did that make him our friend?
Because at that time, Iran was our enemy.
Isn’t that when he gassed the Kurds?
Yeah, but since he was fighting against Iran at the time, we looked the other way, to show him we were his friend.
So anyone who fights against one of our enemies automatically becomes our friend?
Most of the time, yes.
And anyone who fights against one of our friends is automatically an enemy?
Sometimes that’s true, too. However, if American corporations can profit by selling weapons to both sides at the same time, all the better.
Why?
Because war is good for the economy, which means war is good for America. Also, since God is on America’s side, anyone who opposes war is a godless un-American Communist. Do you
understand now why we attacked Iraq?
I think so. We attacked them because God wanted us to, right?
Yes
But how did we know God wanted us to attack Iraq?
Well, you see, God personally speaks to George W. Bush and tells him what to do.
So basically, what you’re saying is that we attacked Iraq because George W. Bush hears voices in his head?
Yes! You finally understand how the world works. Now close your eyes, make yourself comfortable, and go to sleep. Good night, dear.
It’s been a busy week. I’ve spent a lot of my time at the office, trying to get the replication model for Bovini working – causing much stress as it failed time and time again. For
those of you without a grounding in computer science theory, replication is the art of making data be identical (and editable) in several places at once without the fundamental problems
that this goes on to cause, such as data identity conflicts.
In this particular case, we have two master copies of a database, and five smaller copies of a particular one-fifth of the data each (plus a little shared data), split around seven
UK sites, and who’s computers can only be made to talk to one another between the hours of midnight and 4am each weekday. So: not only
does the program I’ve been writing (and sweating on, crying over, and shouting at, this week) have to pull all the data back together and spread it out, it also has to detect whether
two users at different sites edit the same piece of data during the same day, work out who’s most likely to be ‘right’, and ‘fix’ the data accordingly. Or, if it’s not sure, know who to
ask for assistance. It’s a clever program.
And now it seems to be done. And working. Great!
Unfortunately, working like a dog on this little project has only taken time (and energy) away from my preferred software project – Three Rings – a program I’m writing for free
for National Nightline. I’m likely to have a busy weekend catching up!
Regardless, tonight… will be a night for relaxing – Bryn, Claire, Paul, Kit and I are going to spend the evening in the Ship & Castle, drinking Real Ale
and playing Chez Geek. A perfect way to end a week.
We walked back over the dunes from Ynyslas beach. I lead the way, planning to reach the car, drop off my bags, then go
back and help Kit and Paul, who were struggling with most of the remaining
barbeque gear. A few minutes behind me was Claire, and a few minutes behind her, Fiona, a friend from Stirling who’s visiting us for
this week. Paul and Kit were a few dunes back.
As I climbed the last rise before the car park, an alarming vision appeared before me… water. Lots and lots of water. The tide had come in further than I’d have expected, and the rear
half of the car was underwater, sinking into the sand and slowly filling it from the exhaust-pipe upwards with water!
I dropped my bags and ran back to the top of the dunes. “Claire!” I shouted, “Get your keys from your bag, drop your bag, and RUN!” She looked at me quizzically for a moment, but then,
noting the severity in my voice and the specificity of my instructions, did exactly that. Meanwhile I ran past her and down into the valley. I raised a hand over my head and shouted to
the others: “Fiona! Kit! Paul… FLOOD!”
Fiona and I reached the car together and waded out behind it. Claire revved the engine as we tried to push it from behind, but the partially-buried front wheels (combined with our
inability to get a grip against the slippy underwater shore) prevented us from gaining more than a few inches.
Some strangers came by. One commented that “we’d never get it out like that” (helpful!). “Could you three lift the front up?” I asked, gesturing to the larger-looking of the men. They
did so, and Fiona and I continued to push, and slowly but surely we extracted the vehicle from it’s watery sinkhole. Not a moment too soon, either – it was an hour from high tide, so
there was a lot of water still to come.
Later, at Safeway, we cleaned the saltwater off the car using the jet wash, and went and had A Midsummer Night’s Troma. All in all, a fun day.
Spent last night in a dark room with Paul, Kit and Claire, listening to a DTS-encoded 5.1 surround sound version of Pink Floyd’s “Dark Side Of The Moon”. It was the most beautiful thing
I’ve heard in a long while. The sound quality was unbelievable – the patterns moved and shifted around and through us. Quite stunning. I felt my heart rate change several times to match
the beat
Nobody’s updated their web journal in several days except Kit. That makes my work morning a little boring.
We have a new guy working for us – Daniel – a school leaver who’ll be helping us for the summer. Alex and I are trying to get him talking, without any luck yet.
I’ve not been able to get out of my mind the thrill of juggling with flaming torches the other night. So I’ve bought myself a set from Butterfingers, along with some other juggling goodies and a book about how to juggle with clubs.
Last night Kit, Claire, Paul, Bryn and I acquired a huge wooden desk and other burnables and went and started an enormous fire on the beach, having
just finished a most fantastic curry at Cafe All
Spice. Big fire!
Later, we were joined by a man with some juggling batons and a woman with some flags and flaming things on the end of cords. I’d never juggled with clubs before, but a quick play and a
little coaching later, and he had me juggling with fucking flaming brands. What a buzz!
The woman will be taking part in Equilibre at Machynlleth. Judging by how impressive she alone was with her firey-things, I’m really tempted to
go. Showing 9th-16th August, 8pm.
I must buy some flame-batons. The buzz is only just wearing off.
I’m glad to report that I now feel that I have recovered from something that’s afflicted me for most of the last year.
As you may be aware, almost eleven months ago my girlfriend, Claire, and I got together. At the time, she’d recently started (in part by my orchestration) going out with De, a great and
close friend of mine.
For some reason – the obvious one seems clear, but he insisted upon playing a “guessing game” and I’ve tried all the ideas I can think of – De then decided to hate me. He won’t tell me
what I’ve done to hurt him so much, but insists that it’s not any of the things that I suggested it was.
For the greatest part I wanted to make it up. I wanted him back – we were great friends, we really were. And I would have done anything for him if I thought it would give me a chance of
getting that back. But he’d made up his mind – he asked me not to try to contact him, and I, for my love of him, did exactly that, as far as I could. It was hard. Were it not for
Claire’s support, I couldn’t have done it.
My friends assured me he’d come around.
It is now over ten and a half months later, and I’m happy – relieved – to report that the part of my heart that he held has now been released. I no longer care about him enough to want
him back. It took almost a year, and at times it felt like a lifetime, but I can now be proud knowing that I did not let his hatred beat me!
I don’t care about him enough to want him back. I just want him to stop being such a bastard.
I don’t care about him enough to want him back. I don’t even care about him enough to honor his request not to contact him. He’s a wanker, and I shouldn’t have let him control me for
this last year through the false hope that we could once again be friends.
I’ll always remember the good times we had. This is where it ends.
The waves roll up the beach, rustling gently against the smooth pebbles. Claire sits in front of me. Kit is to my side. The remaining embers of the fire flicker, as if trying to fight
to hold onto the remains of their minimal existance against the oncoming tide. We watch the waves through the dwindling smoke.
I put my arm around Claire, holding her hand against her busom. She returns my grip. I glance across at Kit, and he looks back. For a moment, I look into his eyes… try to see what he
sees… but to no avail. We turn back to the sea.
For the best part of half an hour none of us had spoken. For a half hour to come none of us will speak. Sometimes there’s no need for words. Sometimes just being together is enough.
The greatest secret you never tell is how you feel.
