Saturday, October 27, 2012
Fun fun fun
The new series of Red Dwarf has been uniformly and embarrassingly awful... until this week's episode, which was really really good! Clever in a silly way and funny just like it used to be, however many decades ago it was when it was at its best! I'm looking forward to more now!
Monday, October 22, 2012
Weight off my mind
I hadn’t realised just how much time I’d spent making sure everything was ready for the memory championship these last few weeks, but I got an amazing sense of job-done when it was finished, and devoted a lot of time to planning what to do now that I’m not so busy.
The plan is to prepare for the Memoriad, which is only a month away. Practice 30-minute binary in the evenings if I can, and the hour numbers at weekends. If I’m to have any chance of not embarrassing myself horribly, I really need to get into the habit of doing marathon memory disciplines again.
Someone, possibly Jonas, reminded me on Saturday that when I was first starting out practicing memory, I only ever practiced the marathon disciplines. This is true, but it’s something that I’d completely forgotten - it comes to something when other people you’ve never met before remember more about your daily doings than you do yourself. Even so, it’s a sensible thing to do, and I think I’d like to revert to that habit. If you can do an hour numbers, you can do a five-minute numbers too, and quite fast at that. Getting accustomed to long periods of concentration is the key.
I’m talking as if I’m really back to regular, enthusiastic memory practice, but don’t get too excited yet. We’ll see how it goes.
The plan is to prepare for the Memoriad, which is only a month away. Practice 30-minute binary in the evenings if I can, and the hour numbers at weekends. If I’m to have any chance of not embarrassing myself horribly, I really need to get into the habit of doing marathon memory disciplines again.
Someone, possibly Jonas, reminded me on Saturday that when I was first starting out practicing memory, I only ever practiced the marathon disciplines. This is true, but it’s something that I’d completely forgotten - it comes to something when other people you’ve never met before remember more about your daily doings than you do yourself. Even so, it’s a sensible thing to do, and I think I’d like to revert to that habit. If you can do an hour numbers, you can do a five-minute numbers too, and quite fast at that. Getting accustomed to long periods of concentration is the key.
I’m talking as if I’m really back to regular, enthusiastic memory practice, but don’t get too excited yet. We’ll see how it goes.
Sunday, October 21, 2012
Friendly!
And what a great Friendly Memory Championship it was, too! I had the usual mix of nationalities staying at my place on Friday night - Dai and John up from the Welsh valleys, and newcomer Jérôme all the way from Rennes, plus other newcomer Nick all the way originally from Greece, although he lives in England nowadays.
Dai, in typical Dai fashion, had invited Nick to sleep in my flat on the strength of a couple of messages exchanged on Facebook - "I'm not sure if it's a man or a woman," he cheerfully confessed. But in typical Me fashion, I said that was fine, and in typical memory-competitor fashion Nick turned out to be a perfectly nice person and not some kind of brutally-murder-you-all-while-you-sleep type, so everything was okay. He's a man, by the way.
Team Sweden, meanwhile (Idriz and two relative newcomers Jonas and Marwin who'd been really impressive at the Swedish championship last month, plus two embedded journalists) had got to their hotel at four in the morning, five hours before the competition was due to start. It seems to have affected Idriz, who was driving, more than the other two, so I assume they had more chance for forty winks here and there. And finally, Matteo was staying in the Rockaway hotel just over the road from my place, which he says is quite extraordinarily nice and friendly, so I'll be recommending that as a place to stay for any future competitions!
Dai and John had brought collapsible sunbeds to sleep on, although one of them turned out to be more permanently collapsible under the weight of three people sitting on it on Friday night. But still, it was perfectly serviceable, and with my little settee and my nice spare bed, nobody even had to sleep on the floor!
Phil drove down on Saturday morning to complete the set, and we all gathered at the always-wonderful Attenborough Nature Centre for the competition! Nobody at the centre knew there was a competition happening, but soon enough the always-awesome guy in charge (whose name I'm fairly sure is Tim, but I think I've met him too many times now to ask him to confirm his name, so I'll just have to hope somebody else says "Hi, Tim," within my earshot, so I know for sure) arrived and sorted everything out. As always, great hospitality, great lunch, great everything!
The whole competition went perfectly smoothly, and even finished well before six o'clock - I'd been confidently expecting to run late, because the recall times have been extended here and there since last year, as has the number of digits in spoken numbers. But it was all quick and flawless, we finished the fifth discipline exactly five minutes before the time we'd ordered lunch, and we finished the speed cards with plenty of time for congratulations and Swedish TV interviews afterwards!
The star of the show was the seriously awesome Jonas von Essen, who won by a country mile. He particularly excelled in abstract images, attempting the whole 475 of them and ending up with a nearly-record-breaking score of 354, and also a 204 in the spoken numbers. He ended up with 5930 points, which could have been even better had he managed to record a time in speed cards at the end - like I often do in this kind of situation, he made tiny but annoying mistakes in both attempts. Still, that moves him up to 13th in the world rankings, with a definite threat of breaking into the top ten at the WMC in December.
Between him and Marwin, who broke a Swedish record or two, even Idriz was nearly getting tired of enthusing that it was the first time a Swede had achieved such-and-such. Nearly, but not quite. Everyone should also congratulate Jérôme, who memorised a pack of cards in just over two minutes in his first ever competition!
After the championship, we followed the time-honoured tradition of going to the pub and talking about memory, before going to bed. Team Sweden, for whom sleep is clearly an optional kind of thing, had to leave at about one o'clock in the morning to catch their plane home from Stansted, while the journalists were last seen heading to a hotel in Oxford somewhere - I'm sure they all got back fine in the end.
Next year's competition will probably move back to its May spot in the schedule, if that doesn't clash with anything else. Book your plane tickets now!
(Not really)
Dai, in typical Dai fashion, had invited Nick to sleep in my flat on the strength of a couple of messages exchanged on Facebook - "I'm not sure if it's a man or a woman," he cheerfully confessed. But in typical Me fashion, I said that was fine, and in typical memory-competitor fashion Nick turned out to be a perfectly nice person and not some kind of brutally-murder-you-all-while-you-sleep type, so everything was okay. He's a man, by the way.
Team Sweden, meanwhile (Idriz and two relative newcomers Jonas and Marwin who'd been really impressive at the Swedish championship last month, plus two embedded journalists) had got to their hotel at four in the morning, five hours before the competition was due to start. It seems to have affected Idriz, who was driving, more than the other two, so I assume they had more chance for forty winks here and there. And finally, Matteo was staying in the Rockaway hotel just over the road from my place, which he says is quite extraordinarily nice and friendly, so I'll be recommending that as a place to stay for any future competitions!
Dai and John had brought collapsible sunbeds to sleep on, although one of them turned out to be more permanently collapsible under the weight of three people sitting on it on Friday night. But still, it was perfectly serviceable, and with my little settee and my nice spare bed, nobody even had to sleep on the floor!
Phil drove down on Saturday morning to complete the set, and we all gathered at the always-wonderful Attenborough Nature Centre for the competition! Nobody at the centre knew there was a competition happening, but soon enough the always-awesome guy in charge (whose name I'm fairly sure is Tim, but I think I've met him too many times now to ask him to confirm his name, so I'll just have to hope somebody else says "Hi, Tim," within my earshot, so I know for sure) arrived and sorted everything out. As always, great hospitality, great lunch, great everything!
The whole competition went perfectly smoothly, and even finished well before six o'clock - I'd been confidently expecting to run late, because the recall times have been extended here and there since last year, as has the number of digits in spoken numbers. But it was all quick and flawless, we finished the fifth discipline exactly five minutes before the time we'd ordered lunch, and we finished the speed cards with plenty of time for congratulations and Swedish TV interviews afterwards!
The star of the show was the seriously awesome Jonas von Essen, who won by a country mile. He particularly excelled in abstract images, attempting the whole 475 of them and ending up with a nearly-record-breaking score of 354, and also a 204 in the spoken numbers. He ended up with 5930 points, which could have been even better had he managed to record a time in speed cards at the end - like I often do in this kind of situation, he made tiny but annoying mistakes in both attempts. Still, that moves him up to 13th in the world rankings, with a definite threat of breaking into the top ten at the WMC in December.
Between him and Marwin, who broke a Swedish record or two, even Idriz was nearly getting tired of enthusing that it was the first time a Swede had achieved such-and-such. Nearly, but not quite. Everyone should also congratulate Jérôme, who memorised a pack of cards in just over two minutes in his first ever competition!
After the championship, we followed the time-honoured tradition of going to the pub and talking about memory, before going to bed. Team Sweden, for whom sleep is clearly an optional kind of thing, had to leave at about one o'clock in the morning to catch their plane home from Stansted, while the journalists were last seen heading to a hotel in Oxford somewhere - I'm sure they all got back fine in the end.
Next year's competition will probably move back to its May spot in the schedule, if that doesn't clash with anything else. Book your plane tickets now!
(Not really)
Saturday, October 13, 2012
Ben Pridmore's birthday is today
That's what Facebook tells me, anyway. But after a moment of confusion, I realised it was talking about that other Ben Pridmore I'm friends with, the one who's ten times cooler than me and is a fireman who used to have dreadlocks (we've never met, I only know him from occasional snippets of information in his Facebook status). I always forget his birthday is practically the same day as mine until I get this annual reminder.
My birthday is tomorrow. You can give me a present if you want.
My birthday is tomorrow. You can give me a present if you want.
Wednesday, October 10, 2012
Ra ra ra
It's not something that's really featured in my life recently, but I felt the need to vent my annoyance with books that tell you how to pronounce Japanese. Specifically, the Japanese r-sound, which I'm reliably told is sort of half-way between a 'r' and a 'l'.
That's just silly, isn't it? There isn't some kind of sliding scale with 'r' at one end and 'l' at the other. It's either one or the other. After some experimentation, involving saying "ra la la ra" to myself repeatedly, I can say with some confidence that you touch the roof of your mouth with your tongue to say 'la', and don't to say 'ra'.
In my experience, Japanese people either say 'r' or 'l', depending what they feel like at any given moment, and then insist that they make the same sound every time. Or that's how it seems to my English-speaking ears, anyway. I just say 'l', seeing as I always have a problem with that other sound. And saying 'w' instead of 'r' in Japanese is at least 50% more likely to lead to saying an actual different word, probably. I haven't checked, but it's best to avoid it anyway.
That's just silly, isn't it? There isn't some kind of sliding scale with 'r' at one end and 'l' at the other. It's either one or the other. After some experimentation, involving saying "ra la la ra" to myself repeatedly, I can say with some confidence that you touch the roof of your mouth with your tongue to say 'la', and don't to say 'ra'.
In my experience, Japanese people either say 'r' or 'l', depending what they feel like at any given moment, and then insist that they make the same sound every time. Or that's how it seems to my English-speaking ears, anyway. I just say 'l', seeing as I always have a problem with that other sound. And saying 'w' instead of 'r' in Japanese is at least 50% more likely to lead to saying an actual different word, probably. I haven't checked, but it's best to avoid it anyway.
Monday, October 08, 2012
Birthday work
It's my birthday on Sunday, yay. As I think I mentioned last year, I've always thought 36 is sort of a cool age to be, for some reason. It sounds rugged. Much better than 35! So I'm looking forward to this next year of my life!
Of course, my foolish 35-year-old planning has left me not really able to do anything for my birthday, because the Friendly Memory Championship (formerly known as the Cambridge Memory Championship) is happening on Saturday 20th, meaning that this coming weekend has to be the highlight of any memory-competition-organiser's year: Printing Things Out Weekend. All those memorisation papers. If I'd thought about it, I would've done it last weekend, but I never think about things. It's bad for you.
Of course, my foolish 35-year-old planning has left me not really able to do anything for my birthday, because the Friendly Memory Championship (formerly known as the Cambridge Memory Championship) is happening on Saturday 20th, meaning that this coming weekend has to be the highlight of any memory-competition-organiser's year: Printing Things Out Weekend. All those memorisation papers. If I'd thought about it, I would've done it last weekend, but I never think about things. It's bad for you.
Monday, September 24, 2012
Instincts
My horoscope says that now is the time to start following my instincts and stop worrying about pleasing others. This is probably a bad thing, because my instincts right now are quite strongly telling me to get on a flight to Las Vegas or anywhere that isn't in this miserable, rainy country, and not come back until it's summer. And really, my bank account won't stand for that.
Saturday, September 22, 2012
Right, this looks like the button that fixes everything
It is good to have Doctor Who back on our screens - it really needs to be on at least 26 weeks a year, preferably more, and when I'm the director general of the BBC that'll be the first (and probably only) thing I do. And it's been pretty good, all in all. But I do wish they'd put a bit more effort into the plots of episodes like tonight's. Okay, you want to do one that focuses on the characters rather than the story, which is fine (especially with Amy and Rory, who continue to be the best companions ever - isn't this kind of episode with them so very much better than the sub-soap-opera stuff Rose and Mickey occasionally indulged in?), but really, another episode with a weird alien invasion that attacks people all over the world but which the Doctor solves by pressing the 'put everything back the way it was' button? They're not even trying. The ending was so perfunctory, it almost-but-not-quite got in the way of the episode being really a lot of fun!
Thursday, September 20, 2012
My minds are ganging up on me
I've had dreams about memory competitions (or at least about memorising things in a competition-like format) for the last two nights. And what with having said yesterday that I should be practicing more, it's clear that my conscious and subconscious minds want me to do some serious memory training. So that's the plan for this weekend. I'll let you know how it turns out.
Wednesday, September 19, 2012
Literature
I've been reading Frankenstein on the train journey to work in the morning - awesome book, and puts me in the mood to write a big long essay about it at the weekend, but I can't help feeling that I should be doing memory stuff. The whole me-being-good-at-memory-competitions thing came about because I spent long train journeys to and from work learning my original Ben-system list of images, way back in 2003. I should be doing the same thing again. But, much like Victor Frankenstein found, creating the first monster when you're all enthusiastic about something that's never been done before is much easier than creating the second one, when you're all horrified by your own creation and fearful for the fate of the entire human race.
Well, I wouldn't go that far, but I'm not as motivated any more. Maybe I should get a new hobby instead.
Well, I wouldn't go that far, but I'm not as motivated any more. Maybe I should get a new hobby instead.
Monday, September 17, 2012
One more othello post
I didn't mention that I came either fifth or sixth, depending on whether Pierluigi had a better BQ than me, which he probably had. Well above the half-way mark that I normally aim for, although not high enough to get me to the world championship unless practically everyone else doesn't want to go - and since it's in Holland this year, everyone does.
For the benefit of people who don't know much about othello, yes, it's the one that sort of looks like Go, only with discs that are black on one side and white on the other. More people call it reversi nowadays, which is the older, non-trademarked name. There's a world championship every year which three people from each country qualify for - in this country it's the top two in the nationals, plus the winner of the British Grand Prix, a series of smaller tournaments that I hardly went to any of this year, for one reason or another.
As for "BQ", that stands for Brightwell Quotient, the tie-breaking calculation for people who finish a tournament with the same number of wins. It's complicated, and made a teensy bit more so by the long-standing tradition that all that kind of thing at the nationals is done by Adelaide with pencil and paper, rather than one of those new-fangled computer things. This year it was necessary to work out the BQ for the three women who finished equal on points, so as to decide which two of them played-off for the spot on the women's team at the world championship - I double-checked Adelaide's calculations, with the aid of numerous people looking over my shoulder and pointing out my basic arithmetical errors (I multiplied 41 by 7 and got 288 at one point). A hard day-and-a-half's othelloing is very tiring and brain-draining.
For the benefit of people who don't know much about othello, yes, it's the one that sort of looks like Go, only with discs that are black on one side and white on the other. More people call it reversi nowadays, which is the older, non-trademarked name. There's a world championship every year which three people from each country qualify for - in this country it's the top two in the nationals, plus the winner of the British Grand Prix, a series of smaller tournaments that I hardly went to any of this year, for one reason or another.
As for "BQ", that stands for Brightwell Quotient, the tie-breaking calculation for people who finish a tournament with the same number of wins. It's complicated, and made a teensy bit more so by the long-standing tradition that all that kind of thing at the nationals is done by Adelaide with pencil and paper, rather than one of those new-fangled computer things. This year it was necessary to work out the BQ for the three women who finished equal on points, so as to decide which two of them played-off for the spot on the women's team at the world championship - I double-checked Adelaide's calculations, with the aid of numerous people looking over my shoulder and pointing out my basic arithmetical errors (I multiplied 41 by 7 and got 288 at one point). A hard day-and-a-half's othelloing is very tiring and brain-draining.
Sunday, September 16, 2012
Othello amongst the ducks
It was a great Nationals, all in all! Which is good, because I was organising it, and I'd hate everyone to blame me when things go wrong. Of course, 'organising' in this case just means finding a venue and picking somewhere for us to eat on Saturday night, but that bit all went okay, more or less - we went to the Victoria, which turns out to disapprove of under-18s being there after 8pm (I'd never noticed that before), and also has trains going past noisily at frequent intervals, which scared the bejabers out of Imre the first couple of times it happened. But a good time was had by all, and that's what matters.
As for my performance, it was surprisingly good! I won five games out of nine, including a rather good one against Iain Barrass, and wasn't completely thrashed in any of the four I lost, except the one against Borja Moreno - and he went on to win the championship without losing a game, so I don't mind that much.
And, with the Nationals being on my doorstep this year, I'm at home already and it's five o'clock! Yay!
As for my performance, it was surprisingly good! I won five games out of nine, including a rather good one against Iain Barrass, and wasn't completely thrashed in any of the four I lost, except the one against Borja Moreno - and he went on to win the championship without losing a game, so I don't mind that much.
And, with the Nationals being on my doorstep this year, I'm at home already and it's five o'clock! Yay!
Saturday, September 15, 2012
Nationals!
Tim, the awesome guy from the Attenborough Nature Reserve, created a brilliant black-and-white-patterned door sign for the conference room, announcing to the world that the British Othello Championships are happening there.
We've got seventeen competitors, which is a pretty good haul. I won two out of four on the first day, not bad going for someone as out of practice and generally mediocre anyway as I am. It's been much too long since I was in any kind of competition like this!
We've got seventeen competitors, which is a pretty good haul. I won two out of four on the first day, not bad going for someone as out of practice and generally mediocre anyway as I am. It's been much too long since I was in any kind of competition like this!
Friday, September 14, 2012
When did I last play othello?
We're talking months, that's for sure. And quite a lot of them. I'm sure I'm going to put in a great performance at the nationals tomorrow!
On a slight tangent, a lot of people like to write the name of the board game Othello with a capital O, but I've always preferred to keep it lower-case, just to avoid confusion. So if you see me wondering when I last played Othello, remind me that I never have - although if anyone's putting on a production and needs a Roderigo, I think I'd be pretty awesome in that part.
On a slight tangent, a lot of people like to write the name of the board game Othello with a capital O, but I've always preferred to keep it lower-case, just to avoid confusion. So if you see me wondering when I last played Othello, remind me that I never have - although if anyone's putting on a production and needs a Roderigo, I think I'd be pretty awesome in that part.
Thursday, September 13, 2012
It's a hard life
First off, can I just tell Yahoo news that you can't call a man with huge biceps "the real-life Popeye"? Popeye has huge forearms.
Secondly, I'm struggling to find the time to fulfil my duties as British Othello Federation treasurer - which is quite something, since it amounts to about an hour's work once a year. Got to put our annual report together before the AGM on Saturday, but I'm too tired tonight. I'll do it tomorrow morning.
Secondly, I'm struggling to find the time to fulfil my duties as British Othello Federation treasurer - which is quite something, since it amounts to about an hour's work once a year. Got to put our annual report together before the AGM on Saturday, but I'm too tired tonight. I'll do it tomorrow morning.
Wednesday, September 12, 2012
Alas, poor 0111010100
I see on the news that they've found the head of former EastEnders actress Gemma McCluskie. I know it's a fairly gruesome subject to be casually blogging about, but I feel I should mention that the character she played, Kerry Skinner, is one of my 2704 mental images, so I've probably thought about her quite a lot more than most people over the years since her few months as an EastEnders character in 2001.
Or, to be honest, I probably haven't been picturing her all these years, because I think I got her mentally confused with Kelly, the very similar character who replaced her as Zoe Slater's best friend, and so I think I see someone rather looking rather more like Kelly than Kerry whenever the number 724 comes along. Indeed, when I was on Japanese TV, I mentioned Kerry as one of the images I used in a particular journey, and I'm fairly sure they illustrated it with a picture of Kelly.
The moral to all this rambling? Nobody should have their head chopped off and then not found for six months, but it really makes me think I should maybe tell some of the minor celebrities among my characters that I mentally picture them when I'm memorising a pack of cards. It might cheer them up. Or horrify them, depending on temperament.
Or, to be honest, I probably haven't been picturing her all these years, because I think I got her mentally confused with Kelly, the very similar character who replaced her as Zoe Slater's best friend, and so I think I see someone rather looking rather more like Kelly than Kerry whenever the number 724 comes along. Indeed, when I was on Japanese TV, I mentioned Kerry as one of the images I used in a particular journey, and I'm fairly sure they illustrated it with a picture of Kelly.
The moral to all this rambling? Nobody should have their head chopped off and then not found for six months, but it really makes me think I should maybe tell some of the minor celebrities among my characters that I mentally picture them when I'm memorising a pack of cards. It might cheer them up. Or horrify them, depending on temperament.
Monday, September 10, 2012
Ooh, the possibilities...
Yesterday's big long blog post was sort of an experiment to see if anyone was still reading this thing. And since nobody complained about the rude things I said about their websites/memory championships, I assume nobody is (except for the usual motley crew of friends). So yay, I can say whatever offensive and inaccurate things I want, without fear of repercussions! That's the way to motivate me to write more!
Sunday, September 09, 2012
Hi, I'm Brad
Blogger tells me that someone came to this blog today by googling "brad pridemore world memory champ 2004".
"Brad Pridemore" sounds a million times cooler than my real name! Tomorrow, I'm heading straight down to the deed poll office!
"Brad Pridemore" sounds a million times cooler than my real name! Tomorrow, I'm heading straight down to the deed poll office!
A proper update!
So, what have I been doing these past several months? Well, not a lot, really. Working, which is never a good thing, but is really quite necessary if you haven't done it for a long time. Also, developing a worrying addiction to pork scratchings - I got an unaccountable craving for them recently, and now can't go a day without crunching on some.
Still, looking on the bright side, I did a 30-minute binary practice this morning! This is significant, because I might not have done that for anything up to a whole year - I really am that far out of a memory training routine. Furthermore, I did the practice on the Memoriad software, as will be used in the competition itself if it actually happens - it seems about 75% likely at the moment, in that the person running it does seem enthusiastic about the whole thing, but its existence on the internet is minimal, to say the least. But if it does happen, I fully intend to be there, and hope to have done some proper training in the two and a half months between now and then.
Incidentally, late November seems to be a good time to hold an event in the Mediterranean - hopefully it'll be a nice holiday. Better timing than the US Open tennis, which I'm watching at the moment, and which is sensibly scheduled in the middle of hurricane season. At least with Wimbledon we can claim that it's supposed to be sunny in July!
Anyway, my score of 2070 in binary, while pretty horrific (although it's exactly half of my 4140 world record, which is quite groovy), still gives me reason to be hopeful. I did manage to keep my concentration more or less focused all the way through the 30 minutes' memorisation and 60 minutes' recall - well, my mind wandered a lot, but I managed to resist the temptation to give up and go and do something else, just barely. And I know it'll get better with every practice. Next time, hour numbers.
And 2070 is a half-decent score by most people's standards - only 38 or 39 people have done better than that in competitions, depending on which statistics website you read. Memocamp's 39 seems to be right here - the World Memory Statistics seems to omit Yip Siow Hong from the 2010 world championship; I don't remember him being there in 2010 (indeed, apart from the name, I can't remember anything about him; we've never really talked), but it seems unlikely that Memocamp would just have invented his scores.
As a general rule, Memocamp is about 95% correct, and Statistics about 90%; Memocamp also has the advantage of not existing primarily so that the WMSC can remove people from the 'official' ranking list if they ever deem it necessary. You can usually work out the right results by comparing the two and ruling out the less likely figure. It'd be nice to have a website with all the right numbers on it, but hey, who cares about statistics anyway? Only the kind of geek who keeps on making up arbitrary percentages in his long, meandering blog entries.
Let's talk about something more important - the Mighty Heroes Annual 1985!
I found it at the Beeston Sunday book stall a few weeks ago, and it's quite fascinating, because it consists of comics that I've never seen or heard of before. These aren't the Mighty Heroes of Mighty-Mouse-supporting-feature fame (who did have their own very short-lived American comic in the mid-sixties), it's just a series of stories about mighty heroes. They're clearly British in origin (the annual's published in Spain, and probably drawn there too - Spanish artists were a heck of a lot cheaper than British ones in the olden days), and almost certainly significantly earlier than 1985, but I don't know where the publisher dug them up from. I could look it up, but I like a bit of mystery in my life.
The cover is a jolly exciting collage of rockets, aliens, jet planes, scary fiery demon skull things and, apparently, monks. None of these things appear inside, but it's still very eye-catching. The inside front cover has a collage of two pictures of the hero from the Titans, two of the hero from the first Fifth Dimension, and one of the villain from that story.
And so we go on to the stories themselves. They don't generally have titles as part of the artwork - they're typed into the white border at the top of the first page. We begin with...
FIFTH DIMENSION - Earth Attack! (8 pages)
As becomes a common trend in this annual, we're given no introduction to the central character here - indeed, we're not even told his name. We just get three panels with the narration "If you lived alone in a huge, sinister and isolated house... with a door that led to another world - a new dimension where anything can happen... you would find it difficult not to be tempted to walk through it..."
Our hero finds himself looking through a sheet of glass at a man in a control room, with a big TV screen displaying planet Earth with a target on it. Not being able to get through the glass, he goes into a rocky cave behind him, and emerges onto the surface of an asteroid, where people are building a rocket. However, he's attacked by aliens in green jumpsuits, and knocked out.
When he wakes up, the aliens interrogate him and ask how long it'll be until the asteroid crashes into the third planet. A small scuffle later, they work out that they're all on the same side here, and the aliens explain the situation - "The One Without Eyes" has been taking prisoners from various different planets ("Earth, Oglos and Rotin and others") and bringing them to this asteroid to work. The One Without Eyes is inside the asteroid and controlling it. The aliens go on to add that "Many work underground - we don't know what they do. The rest of us were left here - our task is to get rid of the debris from below." We never do learn what the ones underground did, exactly, but it seems The One Without Eyes has recently killed them all and is now going to attack Earth. The aliens on the surface have been working on building a rocket to escape, since they couldn't find their way underground.
Our hero shows them how to get to the baddie, they break through the glass and insist that he change direction. He refuses to do so, and can't really be threatened since he's planning to die in the explosion anyway. Our hero asks him why he's doing this, and he explains that he comes from a planet ("an artificial planet known as Porto") which floats uncontrollably through space, and will crash into Earth unless he gets rid of the obstruction first. Our hero announces that he doesn't believe a word of it. "It's because you talk in Earth words - instead of 'the third planet' you talk of 'Earth!'"
"Why would you take prisoners? There'd be volunteers from Porto!" he continues. The One Without Eyes (who wears sunglasses, so we can't really establish his exact ocular status, but he looks like a normal human and doesn't appear to be blind) responds "So they could die? Don't talk rubbish - you're fooling yourself!"
It's all pretty inconclusive, really. But then one of the aliens notices a big lever and guesses that it'll change the asteroid's direction. It does, and although the One Without Eyes tries to stop him, our hero apparently knocks him out with a karate chop to the back of the head (although the panel isn't very well drawn, so I'm just guessing that's what's happening). The aliens celebrate, the asteroid misses Earth, and our hero leaves abruptly.
And as an epilogue, we get two atmospheric panels, back at the huge, sinister and isolated house. "Don't look for me," says the caption, "I'm in my dark house, away from it all... I'm watching the stars - knowing that any moment one will explode and it will all be over!" The hero, looking up at the sky, has one final thought bubble: "I should not have got involved..."
... Yeah, I don't really get that ending. Didn't he save the day? The way I see it, either the asteroid will go on its merry way and everything will be okay, or the planet Porto will imminently crash into Earth. I don't see how a star is shortly going to explode. Did I miss something?
THE TITANS - Commando Zeus (8 pages)
We open in a meeting room, where an extremely evil-looking bald man is talking to his new team of experts, "Commando Zeus". The story clearly expects readers to already be familiar with what's going on, but his quick summary at least establishes that there are aliens invading Earth, and his mention of "the fearsome and horrific machines that keep attacking us" does suggest he's not entirely misguided in this, although as it turns out he's after The Titans, who as it transpires are misunderstood good guys.
This group of people don't subsequently appear in the story, just their underlings, but everyone except Baldy is given a name and description, so I suppose they were intended to recur as antagonists for the Titans. They don't look particularly evil - one of them, indeed, looks like a matinee idol, but the one who came up with this particular plan is blowing smoke rings with a cigarette, which isn't usually a good sign.
The dialogue throughout this story seems to have been written by someone whose first language isn't English; it's very stilted and awkward. Especially in the next scene, where we go to "the Nolans", the two aliens pretending to be humans. Zen wears extremely cool flares, and Zara a very impractical-looking long dress. When they see a TV report about people being mysteriously frozen by enemies from outer space, Zen wants to go and investigate, but Zara's convinced it's a trap set by their enemies on Earth. There's some talk about their "machine" that detects aliens, but it's hard to work out what they're going on about. Zen sets off anyway, stepping into a sort of tube to transform into a superhero and flying away. Meanwhile, Zara gets a robot duplicate of Zen from a cupboard ("Now for a bit of fun!") and snogs it for the benefit of the humans who are watching their every move.
I don't get why the humans, who know where the Titans are and what their secret identities are, don't just drop a bomb on the house rather than going through with this elaborate plan. Perhaps they're not completely sure it's them?
Anyway, Zen flies off to the Mojave Desert, where the news said the freeze attacks were, and does indeed find a frozen body and tyre tracks leading to a ravine. But then he concludes that it is a trap after all, by a difficult-to-understand chain of logic, and flies away again.
Undaunted, the soldiers waiting in the ravine go to plan B, and send Phantom jets after Zen to shoot him down with missiles. "Incendiary missiles! It's napalm! Got to get out of here!" he thinks, panicked - invulnerability isn't among his super-powers, it seems. 'Mental powers' are, though, and he uses them to change a missile's course and direct it into another Phantom. He then rescues the pilot before the plane crashes, and sets him back on the ground. "Listen my friend - I'm saving you!" he explains. "I want it known - the Titans are here to save Earth! Remember to tell of it!"
And with that, he flies back home to Zara, leaving frustrated soldiers behind. "How did I do Zara? This time I think we are winning, eh!?" he quips. Zara responds with an entirely blank speech bubble. Then the news announces that "With his incredible power, one of the Titans has brainwashed a Phantom pilot. The pilot who saw the alien Titan's face refuses to describe the robot..."
Robot? Anyway, Zen quips that at least one person on Earth is on their side, and that's the end.
A CASE FOR INSPECTOR DAN - The Ribbon Murders (30 pages)
And now our main feature! And this is a good one, too - so much so that I'm not going to go through it page by page, picking holes. Well, that and the fact that it's so very long, of course. But it's a fascinating case for Inspector Dan (everybody just calls him by that name) and his assistant Stella - they're a very Steed and Peel kind of pairing. And it's written in an interesting way - Dan and Stella spend most of the story believing that a series of murders is being carried out by mental institute escapee Kelby, but the reader is shown that poor Kelby is being held prisoner and being used as a scapegoat by someone else, who's committing the murders in Kelby's style for reasons of his own.
There's a fair bit of padding to fill the thirty pages - rather a lot of action scenes with identical murders, not to mention a lengthy red herring in which Dan is called away by some old enemies who claim to know about the Kelby case but are actually nothing to do with it and just want to kill him. But the ultimate revelation as to who's behind everything (someone using the old "kill lots of people so nobody realises I wanted to kill one specific person" routine) is good, and the characterisation of everyone, Kelby especially, is very nice throughout.
CENTAUR - Into Another World (6 pages)
This one, on the other hand... no, I don't get it at all, I'm afraid. I'm assuming it's a heavily-abridged version of a longer story, because as it stands here, it really doesn't make any kind of sense.
Cent, our hero of sorts, arrives in Guatemala with Red (dark hair and big moustache) and his "gang" (which apparently consists of a man called Drake, who wears an eyepatch). And Pearl, whose connection to everything isn't mentioned. Red and Cent have a discussion that's apparently meant to tell us who they are and what they're doing: "The mineral you seek could be worth a lot. You know what I mean - eh, Cent?" "No, Red. I don't know. I'm not looking for it any more - I'm here for another reason." (looking at Pearl when he says this). Red is angry and orders Cent to find it for him, telling Drake to stay in the room and watch Cent and Pearl, saying "I hope by tomorrow Mr Stubborn will have organised the expedition!"
Since Red hasn't really threatened Cent with anything, I'm not sure why he thinks a night in a comfortable hotel room, albeit guarded by Drake, will change his mind, but hey. Suddenly, Cent and Pearl find themselves on another world, where a mysterious voice says "Zentor, we want to communicate with you!"
Back on Earth, Drake runs to fetch Red in a panic, because Cent and Pearl have both dropped dead. Red's reaction is a little strange - he insists that they're not dead ("I'm convinced of it!") and observes that the Mayan stone is gone too! What Mayan stone? You'd think something so important to the plot would have been mentioned before now.
People in Mayan headdresses are talking to Cent. "Welcome, man of the stars, with the message that came from your world..." they say, and Cent realises they are talking in Ixil and that it's his own language. A narrative caption apparently tries to tell us the plot: "The message is that Mayan stone found in Germany. There are important discoveries on it in Centaur's language." Then the Mayan promises to help Cent, whereupon he and Pearl wake up back on Earth and run away from Red and Drake, stealing a car and driving away.
Red and Drake pursue them, but then their car crashes into an invisible wall, and plunges off a cliff, presumably killing them both. Pearl then decides that she can't stay with Cent, because he needs to go to the other world, which isn't hers, and that's the end. Strange story, all in all.
FIFTH DIMENSION - The Chelsea Butcher (8 pages)
Yes, we're back to the man with a magic door in his house. And this, sensibly placed at the end of the book, is apparently the first Fifth Dimension story! We even get some kind of explanation of who our hero is! He's Michael Hooker - a scientist. Being rather the gloomy type, he's been living in his big, isolated house, working on a dematerialiser which can be used for high speed travel in space. He suspects it might not work, but he's testing it out with himself as a guinea pig anyway, stepping through the door...
And he finds himself in a room in 1889, where he's immediately arrested for being the Chelsea Butcher. So that the judge won't think he's mad, he pretends to have lost his memory, which doesn't really help him very much. Luckily, Sherlock Holmes has decided to investigate the case, and comes to see Michael in prison. This surprises Michael a little, seeing as Holmes is a fictional character. He concludes that his machine has sent him to another dimension.
Michael escapes from prison, where he bumps into the real Chelsea Butcher, who is about to kill him when Sherlock Holmes comes to his rescue. So everything's okay in the end, and Michael finds himself back in his home again. "I look at the dematerializer and smile," he says in a narrative caption. "I've just discovered a new world - the incredible Fifth Dimension!"
And that's your lot. It's a very strange annual. I want to find some more now!
Still, looking on the bright side, I did a 30-minute binary practice this morning! This is significant, because I might not have done that for anything up to a whole year - I really am that far out of a memory training routine. Furthermore, I did the practice on the Memoriad software, as will be used in the competition itself if it actually happens - it seems about 75% likely at the moment, in that the person running it does seem enthusiastic about the whole thing, but its existence on the internet is minimal, to say the least. But if it does happen, I fully intend to be there, and hope to have done some proper training in the two and a half months between now and then.
Incidentally, late November seems to be a good time to hold an event in the Mediterranean - hopefully it'll be a nice holiday. Better timing than the US Open tennis, which I'm watching at the moment, and which is sensibly scheduled in the middle of hurricane season. At least with Wimbledon we can claim that it's supposed to be sunny in July!
Anyway, my score of 2070 in binary, while pretty horrific (although it's exactly half of my 4140 world record, which is quite groovy), still gives me reason to be hopeful. I did manage to keep my concentration more or less focused all the way through the 30 minutes' memorisation and 60 minutes' recall - well, my mind wandered a lot, but I managed to resist the temptation to give up and go and do something else, just barely. And I know it'll get better with every practice. Next time, hour numbers.
And 2070 is a half-decent score by most people's standards - only 38 or 39 people have done better than that in competitions, depending on which statistics website you read. Memocamp's 39 seems to be right here - the World Memory Statistics seems to omit Yip Siow Hong from the 2010 world championship; I don't remember him being there in 2010 (indeed, apart from the name, I can't remember anything about him; we've never really talked), but it seems unlikely that Memocamp would just have invented his scores.
As a general rule, Memocamp is about 95% correct, and Statistics about 90%; Memocamp also has the advantage of not existing primarily so that the WMSC can remove people from the 'official' ranking list if they ever deem it necessary. You can usually work out the right results by comparing the two and ruling out the less likely figure. It'd be nice to have a website with all the right numbers on it, but hey, who cares about statistics anyway? Only the kind of geek who keeps on making up arbitrary percentages in his long, meandering blog entries.
Let's talk about something more important - the Mighty Heroes Annual 1985!
I found it at the Beeston Sunday book stall a few weeks ago, and it's quite fascinating, because it consists of comics that I've never seen or heard of before. These aren't the Mighty Heroes of Mighty-Mouse-supporting-feature fame (who did have their own very short-lived American comic in the mid-sixties), it's just a series of stories about mighty heroes. They're clearly British in origin (the annual's published in Spain, and probably drawn there too - Spanish artists were a heck of a lot cheaper than British ones in the olden days), and almost certainly significantly earlier than 1985, but I don't know where the publisher dug them up from. I could look it up, but I like a bit of mystery in my life.
The cover is a jolly exciting collage of rockets, aliens, jet planes, scary fiery demon skull things and, apparently, monks. None of these things appear inside, but it's still very eye-catching. The inside front cover has a collage of two pictures of the hero from the Titans, two of the hero from the first Fifth Dimension, and one of the villain from that story.
And so we go on to the stories themselves. They don't generally have titles as part of the artwork - they're typed into the white border at the top of the first page. We begin with...
FIFTH DIMENSION - Earth Attack! (8 pages)
As becomes a common trend in this annual, we're given no introduction to the central character here - indeed, we're not even told his name. We just get three panels with the narration "If you lived alone in a huge, sinister and isolated house... with a door that led to another world - a new dimension where anything can happen... you would find it difficult not to be tempted to walk through it..."
Our hero finds himself looking through a sheet of glass at a man in a control room, with a big TV screen displaying planet Earth with a target on it. Not being able to get through the glass, he goes into a rocky cave behind him, and emerges onto the surface of an asteroid, where people are building a rocket. However, he's attacked by aliens in green jumpsuits, and knocked out.
When he wakes up, the aliens interrogate him and ask how long it'll be until the asteroid crashes into the third planet. A small scuffle later, they work out that they're all on the same side here, and the aliens explain the situation - "The One Without Eyes" has been taking prisoners from various different planets ("Earth, Oglos and Rotin and others") and bringing them to this asteroid to work. The One Without Eyes is inside the asteroid and controlling it. The aliens go on to add that "Many work underground - we don't know what they do. The rest of us were left here - our task is to get rid of the debris from below." We never do learn what the ones underground did, exactly, but it seems The One Without Eyes has recently killed them all and is now going to attack Earth. The aliens on the surface have been working on building a rocket to escape, since they couldn't find their way underground.
Our hero shows them how to get to the baddie, they break through the glass and insist that he change direction. He refuses to do so, and can't really be threatened since he's planning to die in the explosion anyway. Our hero asks him why he's doing this, and he explains that he comes from a planet ("an artificial planet known as Porto") which floats uncontrollably through space, and will crash into Earth unless he gets rid of the obstruction first. Our hero announces that he doesn't believe a word of it. "It's because you talk in Earth words - instead of 'the third planet' you talk of 'Earth!'"
"Why would you take prisoners? There'd be volunteers from Porto!" he continues. The One Without Eyes (who wears sunglasses, so we can't really establish his exact ocular status, but he looks like a normal human and doesn't appear to be blind) responds "So they could die? Don't talk rubbish - you're fooling yourself!"
It's all pretty inconclusive, really. But then one of the aliens notices a big lever and guesses that it'll change the asteroid's direction. It does, and although the One Without Eyes tries to stop him, our hero apparently knocks him out with a karate chop to the back of the head (although the panel isn't very well drawn, so I'm just guessing that's what's happening). The aliens celebrate, the asteroid misses Earth, and our hero leaves abruptly.
And as an epilogue, we get two atmospheric panels, back at the huge, sinister and isolated house. "Don't look for me," says the caption, "I'm in my dark house, away from it all... I'm watching the stars - knowing that any moment one will explode and it will all be over!" The hero, looking up at the sky, has one final thought bubble: "I should not have got involved..."
... Yeah, I don't really get that ending. Didn't he save the day? The way I see it, either the asteroid will go on its merry way and everything will be okay, or the planet Porto will imminently crash into Earth. I don't see how a star is shortly going to explode. Did I miss something?
THE TITANS - Commando Zeus (8 pages)
We open in a meeting room, where an extremely evil-looking bald man is talking to his new team of experts, "Commando Zeus". The story clearly expects readers to already be familiar with what's going on, but his quick summary at least establishes that there are aliens invading Earth, and his mention of "the fearsome and horrific machines that keep attacking us" does suggest he's not entirely misguided in this, although as it turns out he's after The Titans, who as it transpires are misunderstood good guys.
This group of people don't subsequently appear in the story, just their underlings, but everyone except Baldy is given a name and description, so I suppose they were intended to recur as antagonists for the Titans. They don't look particularly evil - one of them, indeed, looks like a matinee idol, but the one who came up with this particular plan is blowing smoke rings with a cigarette, which isn't usually a good sign.
The dialogue throughout this story seems to have been written by someone whose first language isn't English; it's very stilted and awkward. Especially in the next scene, where we go to "the Nolans", the two aliens pretending to be humans. Zen wears extremely cool flares, and Zara a very impractical-looking long dress. When they see a TV report about people being mysteriously frozen by enemies from outer space, Zen wants to go and investigate, but Zara's convinced it's a trap set by their enemies on Earth. There's some talk about their "machine" that detects aliens, but it's hard to work out what they're going on about. Zen sets off anyway, stepping into a sort of tube to transform into a superhero and flying away. Meanwhile, Zara gets a robot duplicate of Zen from a cupboard ("Now for a bit of fun!") and snogs it for the benefit of the humans who are watching their every move.
I don't get why the humans, who know where the Titans are and what their secret identities are, don't just drop a bomb on the house rather than going through with this elaborate plan. Perhaps they're not completely sure it's them?
Anyway, Zen flies off to the Mojave Desert, where the news said the freeze attacks were, and does indeed find a frozen body and tyre tracks leading to a ravine. But then he concludes that it is a trap after all, by a difficult-to-understand chain of logic, and flies away again.
Undaunted, the soldiers waiting in the ravine go to plan B, and send Phantom jets after Zen to shoot him down with missiles. "Incendiary missiles! It's napalm! Got to get out of here!" he thinks, panicked - invulnerability isn't among his super-powers, it seems. 'Mental powers' are, though, and he uses them to change a missile's course and direct it into another Phantom. He then rescues the pilot before the plane crashes, and sets him back on the ground. "Listen my friend - I'm saving you!" he explains. "I want it known - the Titans are here to save Earth! Remember to tell of it!"
And with that, he flies back home to Zara, leaving frustrated soldiers behind. "How did I do Zara? This time I think we are winning, eh!?" he quips. Zara responds with an entirely blank speech bubble. Then the news announces that "With his incredible power, one of the Titans has brainwashed a Phantom pilot. The pilot who saw the alien Titan's face refuses to describe the robot..."
Robot? Anyway, Zen quips that at least one person on Earth is on their side, and that's the end.
A CASE FOR INSPECTOR DAN - The Ribbon Murders (30 pages)
And now our main feature! And this is a good one, too - so much so that I'm not going to go through it page by page, picking holes. Well, that and the fact that it's so very long, of course. But it's a fascinating case for Inspector Dan (everybody just calls him by that name) and his assistant Stella - they're a very Steed and Peel kind of pairing. And it's written in an interesting way - Dan and Stella spend most of the story believing that a series of murders is being carried out by mental institute escapee Kelby, but the reader is shown that poor Kelby is being held prisoner and being used as a scapegoat by someone else, who's committing the murders in Kelby's style for reasons of his own.
There's a fair bit of padding to fill the thirty pages - rather a lot of action scenes with identical murders, not to mention a lengthy red herring in which Dan is called away by some old enemies who claim to know about the Kelby case but are actually nothing to do with it and just want to kill him. But the ultimate revelation as to who's behind everything (someone using the old "kill lots of people so nobody realises I wanted to kill one specific person" routine) is good, and the characterisation of everyone, Kelby especially, is very nice throughout.
CENTAUR - Into Another World (6 pages)
This one, on the other hand... no, I don't get it at all, I'm afraid. I'm assuming it's a heavily-abridged version of a longer story, because as it stands here, it really doesn't make any kind of sense.
Cent, our hero of sorts, arrives in Guatemala with Red (dark hair and big moustache) and his "gang" (which apparently consists of a man called Drake, who wears an eyepatch). And Pearl, whose connection to everything isn't mentioned. Red and Cent have a discussion that's apparently meant to tell us who they are and what they're doing: "The mineral you seek could be worth a lot. You know what I mean - eh, Cent?" "No, Red. I don't know. I'm not looking for it any more - I'm here for another reason." (looking at Pearl when he says this). Red is angry and orders Cent to find it for him, telling Drake to stay in the room and watch Cent and Pearl, saying "I hope by tomorrow Mr Stubborn will have organised the expedition!"
Since Red hasn't really threatened Cent with anything, I'm not sure why he thinks a night in a comfortable hotel room, albeit guarded by Drake, will change his mind, but hey. Suddenly, Cent and Pearl find themselves on another world, where a mysterious voice says "Zentor, we want to communicate with you!"
Back on Earth, Drake runs to fetch Red in a panic, because Cent and Pearl have both dropped dead. Red's reaction is a little strange - he insists that they're not dead ("I'm convinced of it!") and observes that the Mayan stone is gone too! What Mayan stone? You'd think something so important to the plot would have been mentioned before now.
People in Mayan headdresses are talking to Cent. "Welcome, man of the stars, with the message that came from your world..." they say, and Cent realises they are talking in Ixil and that it's his own language. A narrative caption apparently tries to tell us the plot: "The message is that Mayan stone found in Germany. There are important discoveries on it in Centaur's language." Then the Mayan promises to help Cent, whereupon he and Pearl wake up back on Earth and run away from Red and Drake, stealing a car and driving away.
Red and Drake pursue them, but then their car crashes into an invisible wall, and plunges off a cliff, presumably killing them both. Pearl then decides that she can't stay with Cent, because he needs to go to the other world, which isn't hers, and that's the end. Strange story, all in all.
FIFTH DIMENSION - The Chelsea Butcher (8 pages)
Yes, we're back to the man with a magic door in his house. And this, sensibly placed at the end of the book, is apparently the first Fifth Dimension story! We even get some kind of explanation of who our hero is! He's Michael Hooker - a scientist. Being rather the gloomy type, he's been living in his big, isolated house, working on a dematerialiser which can be used for high speed travel in space. He suspects it might not work, but he's testing it out with himself as a guinea pig anyway, stepping through the door...
And he finds himself in a room in 1889, where he's immediately arrested for being the Chelsea Butcher. So that the judge won't think he's mad, he pretends to have lost his memory, which doesn't really help him very much. Luckily, Sherlock Holmes has decided to investigate the case, and comes to see Michael in prison. This surprises Michael a little, seeing as Holmes is a fictional character. He concludes that his machine has sent him to another dimension.
Michael escapes from prison, where he bumps into the real Chelsea Butcher, who is about to kill him when Sherlock Holmes comes to his rescue. So everything's okay in the end, and Michael finds himself back in his home again. "I look at the dematerializer and smile," he says in a narrative caption. "I've just discovered a new world - the incredible Fifth Dimension!"
And that's your lot. It's a very strange annual. I want to find some more now!
Thursday, September 06, 2012
Commuters
Going to work on the train in the morning, you start to recognise the other people who make that journey every day. I tend to name them after the people they most resemble, so if asked, I would tell you that I share a train with Steve-Bruce-with-a-bit-of-John-Lithgow, or Anthony-Stewart-Head-with-a-touch-of-Mr-Harvey-my-old-maths-teacher-or-possibly-the-actor-Philip-Bretherton-who-looked-exactly-like-Mr-Harvey-in-every-way-and-might-have-been-the-same-person. And Beardy Man, who doesn't look like anyone else, and who I just named after his splendid beard.
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