Posts Tagged ‘fun’

You don’t need to like or dislike Arnold Schwarzenegger to appreciate this. I’m just using “Arnie” as a guide. You don’t even need to have seen Terminator (1 or 2) to understand my use of it as an example. If you’ve ever seen a film where there’s a high body count by closing credits, you’ll get the gist of the idea.

Arnold Schwarzenegger as T-800 (Madame Tussauds).

Arnold Schwarzenegger as T-800 (Madame Tussauds). (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

I’ve had my movie ‘pitch’ for several years now. I’m blogging it here, because I can’t see myself ever making it (at this point, anyway). Basically it goes like this:

The screen is split in two. On the left side of the split, the audience quickly recognises Terminator (or other equivalent film) is playing. This film plays in its entirety.

On the right, the alternative film plays. In this instance, it might open with a policeman, sitting down having breakfast with his family. Subsequent scenes might show him doing relatively routine activities; dropping off his children at school, buying some take away coffee, doing paperwork. The actor playing this role should be relatively unknown and the reason why would become apparent in due course.

About half way through Terminator, the left and right screens would start to come to reflect one another. Thus the policeman seen doing run-of-the-mill activities (as I understand most policing is on a day-to-day basis) would come to have an interaction with Arnie. For these moments, the screen would show only the ‘original’ film. The policeman might die in the police station shootout, perhaps he is collateral in another scene where his car is crashed by Arnie’s truck – the more obscure it was, in many ways, the better. The audience will now recognise that the small time extra in the big budget film is actually the ‘star’ of the film that has been showing on the right hand side of the screen.

At this point, the screen would split once again. Terminator (or X) would continue on, as before, while the camera on the left would remain with the dead policeman. Over the course of the remaining film, the scenes would return to everyday life: his family receiving the news; their shock at his sudden demise; preparations and the subsequent funeral.

The point? Not much really – just to show, using an unorthodox method, how we overlook details and the casualty count (or take it for granted) when we watch an action movie. Just something a bit different. Hope you liked the idea.

Further tales of the sub-villains who cause merry mayhem in our household…

Mr Slops

Slops works on creating culinary chaos. If you are born after 1990, I suspect you won’t even be aware of his existence. He loves operating on the periphery. So, if you are sitting at the table, having a meal, you may only be aware of him when you aren’t looking at your son or daughter. That’s when he strikes. But while your sight may let you down, your hearing won’t. You’ll recognise the tell tale signs, the sibilant smacking of lips, of saliva and food that can best be described as ‘cud’ that emanates from your child’s mouth.

English: When this shorthorn heifer in the Uni...

I know what you’re thinking… there are no cows at my table, but Mr Slops has powers far and wide… (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Should you turn to engage Mr Slops, one-to-one, he will immediately take over your child’s mind. You can tell this has occurred when they look at you and, through a combination of steak, mashed potato and mushy peas state, quite blankly, “Whaaaat?”

As if this weren’t enough, he has compelling powers of camouflage. Should you ask:

“Could you please chew with your mouth closed?” of your offspring, Mr Slops will once again take control of mental and vocal faculties. This can be confirmed with any response resembling:

“But I am” or thereabouts. At which point, Slops will play the final card in his deck, the capitulation card.

What does this look like? Again, no one is sure, but telltale signs include a slumping of shoulders from any parents within earshot, or perhaps an extended and quite exasperated sigh…

The last (I promise!) domestic sub-villains installment to come shortly…

It’s a great time to be alive. My son is 9 now, and if you’d ask me if I thought I’d be sharing a passion for Dr Who with my own child, say 15 years ago, I wouldn’t have believed it. It’s great that the show that gave me so much pleasure in my childhood, is now providing a connection for us in the present.

At present, he has a vivid imagination that has created a range of super heroes. At the same time, I’ve had to balance the books. But I’m not looking to tell you about his creations here.

Instead, I’ve watched the domestic disarray that two children represent. And there are a whole stack of household, less-than-super, heroes living with us. I can’t draw, so for the time being, descriptions will have to suffice. Do you have children? Perhaps that “slack” flat mate? If yes, all this may sound familiar. Here are the ones that I’ve identified to date:

The Amazing Distracto –

Distracto is a master of mischief.

A pile of Lego blocks, of assorted colours and...

Has Distracto been at your house? Lego is a tell-tale sign (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

He appears at the oddest times, like when you send your son/daughter/flatmate to go clean their room. Come back X minutes later to discover the chaos that Distracto has wreaked! In my son’s case, he is “cleaning” his room, but when Distracto strikes (and you subsequently enter), you’ll find him playing with Lego or reading a graphic novel of Indiana Jones. I’ve never seen Distracto, but understand that he wears a large dark coat and his eyes, which seem to emanate out of the dark recesses of the top hat he wears (that shroud most of his features), are two spirals that swirl in opposite directions. My son says that he wants to clean his room, but when Distracto appears, he stands before him with something shiny in one of his hands. I’ve heard that in the other hand, is a picture of what he should be doing – in this case, cleaning his room. But (and here is the cunning part), Distracto  gets you to look at this… only briefly… before he hypnotises you with the other, shiny object. Once you’ve had a glimpse of that… you’re gone.

But, if you’re really unlucky, his brother…

The Amazing Destructo

will appear. I’ve not seen him. According to my son, no one really has. All he can say is that he goes in, with the firm intention of cleaning the mess in his room… then when you come along to check, it is clear that Destructo has been present. Whatever detritus may have existed before has been sent to the four winds in a Twister like Display of Destruction. Destructo is fast, furious and unpredictable. No one (including children) know when or where he will strike…

Anyway, that’s the first two for now…

Part Two (Orange Tooth, Mr Slops and Whingo) to follow!