Redemption 2009 was brilliant.
This was our first time at this particular convention and it certainly lived up to expectations. For years friends have been telling us about how friendly and fun it was - and it's true!
As with all things though, hearing endless praise is never as much fun as enjoying a good moan or bit of gossip. So I shall swiftly move on from my unending praise for Redemption and everyone there to discuss the Britannia Hotel in Coventry.
What is interesting about this Hotel is that the staff were lovely without exception and the convention was hosted really well. Yet, beyond it's lovely marble foyer lies the grimmest room I've ever stayed in. That's right, worse than my student house as an undergrad.
Here's some of the things that were grim (with some links to a few photos):
The room door. Aside from the yellowing paintwork, the overwhelming smell of cigarettes and sweat and the peeling wallpaper, one of the 1st things you noticed as you opened the door was this.
There were lots of things to love about this room. It was so clear that it had had nothing done to it for many, many years. The bath had holes in the enamel while the sink had been cracked and sealed up by what I can only presume is a piece of chewing gum.
Moving into the room itself, it was hard to decide what to be alarmed by first. There was a double bed, as ordered, but with a 3/4 size mattress in it. I was alarmed by what may happen if I rolled over in the night.
The bedside cabinets and dressing table were covered in strange stains.There were many, but I think it's suffice to only show one. There were matching ones on the other furniture.
The carpet was the pièce de résistance however; boasting not only a plethora of stains, but numerous aged blood stains all round the bed. I'm glad I took my slippers.
Coventry itself was a land of grey concrete, an as such it was more a blessing than a curse that the windows were so dirty it was difficult to see through them clearly. I first of all mistook the effect of the dirty window in this photo for low lying smog. But no, a glance in the other direction reveals the layer of filth that's the culprit.
Moving downstairs in the hotel was a better experience. Although some debate exists about the dubiously named 'Bar Rogue'. Perhaps, when originally conceived it was supposed to be called 'Bar Rouge'? Who knows. Anyway, whilst in the said 'Bar Rogue' a group of us decided to order lunch. Pasta Provencale was on the menu. What could possibly go wrong? When it arrived; however, it was pasta (so they got that bit right) placed in a bowl of tomato juice. Imagine that you've bought yourself a lovely tin of plum tomatoes, removed the tomatoes and added enough salt to immediately induce heart disease. Warm up this juice and place it in a bowl. Dump some pasta in the middle of it. Do not stir. Serve to people who have paid a fiver for it. Yum - highly acidic and salty! My only regret is that I didn't manage to get a photo. Having talked the lovely Una into having a taste she immediately proclaimed "That's the most disgusting thing I've ever tasted!" (well... a version of that anyway) just as the waiter arrived at our table with another one for Peter. You couldn't have asked for better timing. Needless to say he took the meals away and we (ie everyone in our group who'd ordered the dreaded pasta provencale) ordered something else. But there was no opportunity for a pic, which is such a shame since the sauce matched the blood stains on the carpet so well.
What was so brilliant about that meal was that it was so obviously made up of the left over tomato juice from the cooked breakfast that morning. As if they were going to fool anyone (there was no fried tomato at the breakfasts, instead you moved along the buffet helping yourself to your eggs sausage and beans. Then at the end was a huge bowl of what looked like hot peeled testicles and a large spoon. Just what you need to see first thing in the morning. Our pasta was clearly served in this 'testicle juice').
So there we go.
But it's not all bad; the Britannia Hotel in Coventry has a nice foyer.
And Redemption was so good, we'll even go back!
You can see a selection of the 'Holiday Snaps' here. It's interesting to compare our room with the advertised rooms on the hotel's website.
Monday, 23 February 2009
Tuesday, 7 October 2008
Spitting
Spitting.
Let’s face it, it’s gross. Yet I am ever astounded by the amount of ‘spitters’ out there. I mean, really, this is the 21st century. News reports are claiming we’ve reached the pinnacle of our evolution.
I am interested in the fact that what is to me, a disgusting behavioral trait, is still acceptable and even fashionable, in some circles. This interest has arisen from the fact that the other night I was sat on the train to Liverpool. As it’s the end of the line the train sits for several minutes at the station. During this time I looked out of the window and watched a group of lads (all wearing variations on the same tracksuit – sorry to be so stereotypical about the whole thing, but there you go) having a cigarette before boarding. One member of this group had a remarkable habit. In succession he would have a drag of his cigarette; inhale; exhale; spit. Drag; inhale; exhale; spit. And so on.
It was gross.
It was almost hypnotic.
It was so well practiced - that special kind of spitting that only the proficient can achieve – where it seems to travel an awful long way. If I were to spit, I imagine a rather embarrassing dribble would be the result – not having nurtured the habit and all. By the time he’d finished smoking, I understood the need for the North West flood warnings.
But my question is why? What’s the attraction? I mean it wasn’t like he was chewing the tobacco. Can anyone provide an explanation for this strange cultural practice?
I await your thoughts (or gross tales – they’re always fun too). In the meantime I’m off into town - I’ll just get my brolly.
Let’s face it, it’s gross. Yet I am ever astounded by the amount of ‘spitters’ out there. I mean, really, this is the 21st century. News reports are claiming we’ve reached the pinnacle of our evolution.
I am interested in the fact that what is to me, a disgusting behavioral trait, is still acceptable and even fashionable, in some circles. This interest has arisen from the fact that the other night I was sat on the train to Liverpool. As it’s the end of the line the train sits for several minutes at the station. During this time I looked out of the window and watched a group of lads (all wearing variations on the same tracksuit – sorry to be so stereotypical about the whole thing, but there you go) having a cigarette before boarding. One member of this group had a remarkable habit. In succession he would have a drag of his cigarette; inhale; exhale; spit. Drag; inhale; exhale; spit. And so on.
It was gross.
It was almost hypnotic.
It was so well practiced - that special kind of spitting that only the proficient can achieve – where it seems to travel an awful long way. If I were to spit, I imagine a rather embarrassing dribble would be the result – not having nurtured the habit and all. By the time he’d finished smoking, I understood the need for the North West flood warnings.
But my question is why? What’s the attraction? I mean it wasn’t like he was chewing the tobacco. Can anyone provide an explanation for this strange cultural practice?
I await your thoughts (or gross tales – they’re always fun too). In the meantime I’m off into town - I’ll just get my brolly.
Wednesday, 23 July 2008
Vibrator Fails to Satisfy
…don’t you just hate it when that happens?...
I am, of course, referring to the ‘Vibrator of Death’, an sf story by “Harold J. Richards, PhD.” in 1928’s Amazing Stories Quarterly.
Immediately drawn to a story about a vibrator of death (who wouldn’t be) I was not at all disappointed to discover that it was a tale of a giant vibrating machine. This, I felt, was an essential addition to my old magazine collection.
To whet the excited reader’s appetite, the editor tells us:
“Vibration, our scientists tell us, is life. Where there is no vibration there can be no life. On the other hand, too much vibration, as we all know is likely to prove disastrous. Anyone who has been shaken back and forth rapidly for a length of time will testify to this simple statement. This fact is well brought out in the present story written by a well known scientist, and we know you’ll enjoy it.”
Well, with such a recommendation [the bit about being shaken rapidly amuses me greatly], and the promise of a tale of the rapid vibrations of the (and I quote) “swaying thriller” that provides the “vibration of a lifetime! Feel the new sensation!” how could I resist? If any scepticism remained it was soon quashed. The questioning Andrews looks on the vibrator and wonders “how can anyone enjoy…?” only to be interrupted by a friend who tells him “you have to use your imagination. It embodies motion, novelty and sudden change, which are the root of every successful amusement device”.
Wow, the root of every successful amusement device eh? Cool. The only problem is, as the story proves in its lengthy scientific passages, too much thrill will (literally) make your heart explode. That’s right, “the physiological effect of vibrating too rapidly” means that “as soon as the speed of the thriller reaches a certain limit the changes in direction…means that the heart [will be] bumped forcibly against the walls of the thoracic cavity, and finally the valves will burst” resulting in “spurts of blood”.
Oh dear – that doesn’t sound good.
It turns out though, that “any skilful scientist” could easily predict such a misadventure. Conveniently for us, the protagonist works out the “vibration of a rigid shaft as a function of its rigidity and distribution of weight [in] a mathematical study.” He finds that “in a mathematical investigation 3798 pounds of material must be removed from the upper part of vibrations per minute… the upper part of the shaft contained a hollow space of 45 cubic feet, and by simple division I ascertained that the material removed must have weighed 844 pounds to the cubic foot. In other words, its density with 13.5… Mercury has a density of 13.6 and I concluded that the hollow space had not been truly conical, as I had assumed in my calculations…“ …and on, and on, he goes, in a manner that’s really not very thrilling at all.
Actually, I don’t mind the fact that, as in this tale, so much old magazine sf was an excuse for mathematical or scientific discussions. The problem with this story, if I’m honest, is simply that it’s boring. It may be about a giant thrill machine, but it’s not a thrill to read.
So, it turns out that in every way, this vibrator really did, fail to satisfy.
Such a shame.
Tuesday, 8 April 2008
Digital Natives and Wellsian Thumbs
Further to my previous post (‘The Future’) on my responses to Phil Dick and Wellsian evolution I discovered this write up on ‘Digital Natives’. Aside form the definitions of the ‘digital native’ which are interesting in themselves there was this information about the digital native’s use of the thumb:
“Microsoft [brought up] the notion that kids of tomorrow would evolve differently from those of today, in the physical sense. They quoted the example of a person ringing a doorbell. You or I would walk up to the doorbell and push the button - but we would more than likely use our index finger to push the bell. A Digital Native on the other hand would more than likely use their thumb - because with all the thousands of hours of texting on mobile phones and playing nintendo they’ve been doing it’s logical to assume (according to Microsoft) that over time these kids will evolve larger and more flexible thumbs”.
It is strange to discover that my evolutionary predictions, said in jest, are being theorized in reality. I think the word it 'thumbidextrous'.
On another note, this paper on digital natives and digital immigrants is interesting.
“Microsoft [brought up] the notion that kids of tomorrow would evolve differently from those of today, in the physical sense. They quoted the example of a person ringing a doorbell. You or I would walk up to the doorbell and push the button - but we would more than likely use our index finger to push the bell. A Digital Native on the other hand would more than likely use their thumb - because with all the thousands of hours of texting on mobile phones and playing nintendo they’ve been doing it’s logical to assume (according to Microsoft) that over time these kids will evolve larger and more flexible thumbs”.
It is strange to discover that my evolutionary predictions, said in jest, are being theorized in reality. I think the word it 'thumbidextrous'.
On another note, this paper on digital natives and digital immigrants is interesting.
Thursday, 3 April 2008
The Future?
Recently I have been re-reading Explorations of the Marvellous – a series of lectures given at the institute of Contemporary Arts in London in 1975. In this collection is a paper by Philip K. Dick, called “Man, Android, Machine”. Dick unfortunately was too unwell to deliver his talk at the time, but his lecture is still included in the printed anthology, a real treat as Dick’s writings (fictional and non-fictional) are always thought provoking and interesting. In this printed lecture, one sentence particularly caught my eye. He states:
“The greatest change growing across our world these days is probably the momentum of the living towards reification, and at the same time a reciprocal entry into animation by the mechanical.”
Obviously, this statement arises as a result of Dick’s personal paranoia about the nature of the (blurring) boundaries between what is human and what is machine, and his distrust of machines that appear life-like (or at least simulate a manifestation of human emotions or actions). 33 years on, I wonder if this statement – based on an extrapolative vision of the future of technology – is as true as it once seemed. I think that nowadays technology is not necessarily about simulating life; the increase in mobile technology means that it has become more an extension of the self. What is being formed through the progression of technology is more cyborg than android.
Dick’s statement that: “We hold no pure categories of the living versus the non living” (my emphasis) is truer than he possibly thought. Whereas he is referring to the reification of the human and the animation of the machine, his statement is accurate today in a different way - in that human and machine function in conjunction with one another. At its least invasive level, technology (through increasing mobility and miniaturisation) functions as accessory, and at its most intrusive level it is deemed necessity.
For example: who in generation Y is without a mobile phone? With a camera on it? And a variety of other functions. How many people deem this technology necessary (cries of ‘I couldn’t live without my phone’ can be heard everywhere). I myself carry round a phone that is a camera, mp3 player, personal organiser, internet browser, radio, calculator, converter, stop watch, alarm clock, document reader, games machine and least of all phone. This technology, like the mobile pc on which I’m writing this, is not animated as such, it is more an extension – or vehicle for expression – of my own animation. Nevertheless, I have to wonder; does this type of combination of human and technology result in reification?
I fear it may.
I have often been heard joking that Wells’s vision of the future of humanity, posited in The Man of the Year Million, is no longer (metaphorically) accurate. Wells foresaw that the species would evolve into large heads (to accommodate great brains holding vast intelligence) and large hands (the teachers and agents of the brain) while the rest of the body would become simpler and less prominent. I would argue, however, that it is more likely that evolution will result in smaller heads housing enormous staring eyes; and large hands will be replaced by giant, hypertrophied thumbs able to type text messages and manipulate games controllers with great skill. Based on our current technology, this seems to be a more accurate Wellsian vision of the future.
Dick recognised, and feared, that humans and machines could potentially become indistinguishable, especially if machines imitate human behaviour. His discussion depends on the human and the machine being seen as separate entities. However, what if human evolution were to allow us to become more comfortably ‘one’ with the machine? We wouldn’t be able to tell the difference between the two, because we would be the machines.
Perhaps Dick wasn’t as paranoid as he should have been?
Now that’s not something you get to say every day.
NB: All of this assumes, of course, a continuing growth of technology and a hypothetical Wellsian model of evolution. This may not actually be the case at all. Not because of the metaphorical nature of some of the concepts discussed here, but because there is no guarantee that there will be any such progression of technology or evolution in the way we currently conceive it. Reflecting the contemporary apocalypticism that permeates our 21st Century culture (with global warming, terrorist threats, declining resources etc) I propose the idea that maybe technological ‘advancement’ as we know it will inevitably have to come to an end. Perhaps, as the earth’s resources are used up, only an elite will have access to technology, the rest of us will devolve into primitivism. That is, of course, if the race is to survive at all. Dick himself said, the universe is kind to us,” it must like and accept us or we would not be here”. He quotes Abraham Maslow, who concludes, ‘otherwise nature would have executed us long ago’.
The question now is, has nature gone off us?
Either way, what we have here are two extremes. As usual the future most likely lies, not somewhere in between, but somewhere completely unexpected.
“The greatest change growing across our world these days is probably the momentum of the living towards reification, and at the same time a reciprocal entry into animation by the mechanical.”
Obviously, this statement arises as a result of Dick’s personal paranoia about the nature of the (blurring) boundaries between what is human and what is machine, and his distrust of machines that appear life-like (or at least simulate a manifestation of human emotions or actions). 33 years on, I wonder if this statement – based on an extrapolative vision of the future of technology – is as true as it once seemed. I think that nowadays technology is not necessarily about simulating life; the increase in mobile technology means that it has become more an extension of the self. What is being formed through the progression of technology is more cyborg than android.
Dick’s statement that: “We hold no pure categories of the living versus the non living” (my emphasis) is truer than he possibly thought. Whereas he is referring to the reification of the human and the animation of the machine, his statement is accurate today in a different way - in that human and machine function in conjunction with one another. At its least invasive level, technology (through increasing mobility and miniaturisation) functions as accessory, and at its most intrusive level it is deemed necessity.
For example: who in generation Y is without a mobile phone? With a camera on it? And a variety of other functions. How many people deem this technology necessary (cries of ‘I couldn’t live without my phone’ can be heard everywhere). I myself carry round a phone that is a camera, mp3 player, personal organiser, internet browser, radio, calculator, converter, stop watch, alarm clock, document reader, games machine and least of all phone. This technology, like the mobile pc on which I’m writing this, is not animated as such, it is more an extension – or vehicle for expression – of my own animation. Nevertheless, I have to wonder; does this type of combination of human and technology result in reification?
I fear it may.
I have often been heard joking that Wells’s vision of the future of humanity, posited in The Man of the Year Million, is no longer (metaphorically) accurate. Wells foresaw that the species would evolve into large heads (to accommodate great brains holding vast intelligence) and large hands (the teachers and agents of the brain) while the rest of the body would become simpler and less prominent. I would argue, however, that it is more likely that evolution will result in smaller heads housing enormous staring eyes; and large hands will be replaced by giant, hypertrophied thumbs able to type text messages and manipulate games controllers with great skill. Based on our current technology, this seems to be a more accurate Wellsian vision of the future.
Dick recognised, and feared, that humans and machines could potentially become indistinguishable, especially if machines imitate human behaviour. His discussion depends on the human and the machine being seen as separate entities. However, what if human evolution were to allow us to become more comfortably ‘one’ with the machine? We wouldn’t be able to tell the difference between the two, because we would be the machines.
Perhaps Dick wasn’t as paranoid as he should have been?
Now that’s not something you get to say every day.
NB: All of this assumes, of course, a continuing growth of technology and a hypothetical Wellsian model of evolution. This may not actually be the case at all. Not because of the metaphorical nature of some of the concepts discussed here, but because there is no guarantee that there will be any such progression of technology or evolution in the way we currently conceive it. Reflecting the contemporary apocalypticism that permeates our 21st Century culture (with global warming, terrorist threats, declining resources etc) I propose the idea that maybe technological ‘advancement’ as we know it will inevitably have to come to an end. Perhaps, as the earth’s resources are used up, only an elite will have access to technology, the rest of us will devolve into primitivism. That is, of course, if the race is to survive at all. Dick himself said, the universe is kind to us,” it must like and accept us or we would not be here”. He quotes Abraham Maslow, who concludes, ‘otherwise nature would have executed us long ago’.
The question now is, has nature gone off us?
Either way, what we have here are two extremes. As usual the future most likely lies, not somewhere in between, but somewhere completely unexpected.
Wednesday, 2 April 2008
The Horror! The Horror!
Check out Peter's new blog - I finally convinced him that he should have one (with some additional prodding from friends).
Tuesday, 25 March 2008
Orbital 2008
Orbital: Eastercon 2008
We have just spent 5 brilliant days at Orbital – the annual science fiction convention. This year it was hosted at the Radisson Edwardian Hotel at Heathrow. Over 1200 sf fans got together over the Easter weekend to meet up, discuss and share their enjoyment of sf.
One of the strangest things about being at a con is the fact that you enter a self-contained world. Once inside the hotel we went for the Star Trek type womb fantasy of 'this hotel is our self contained, all providing universe for the next 5 days'. It's amazing how quickly it is possible to adapt to being in a place - so that the outside world seems unreal. The surrounding areas seemed so divorced from the convention that when we got another glimpse of them from the car park as we were leaving, 'normality' had taken on an unfamiliar, alien quality. Semi-detached houses and urban decay - the norm when we arrived at the hotel, seemed strangely out of place after spending all that time amongst marble and wood and crisp sheets and thick white towels. Now, back home our house too feels like an alien space - devoid of fans, real ale and booksellers. It has been a strange day today, reacclimatizing and getting over a strange sense of grief that the con is over for another year (to try to overcome our post con depression, we have, like Mr Roy and Procrastinatrix booked for the next 2 years).
In terms of the con itself here are the highlights:
The hotel. This was the first time I’ve ever stayed in a 5 star hotel. It seems to me that, aesthetically at least, what distinguishes the 5 star hotel from the other varieties, is the fact that it is made primarily of marble and wood. So, as you can imagine, it was beautiful, if a little strange in its décor. On the one hand there was marble floors, wood panelling, enormous chandeliers and on the other there were areas that were modern, including illuminated bridges (like something out of a 1920s musical) over glass areas with glass fish, but surrounded by old fashioned statues and antiques from around the world. Anyway, it was delightfully posh – so posh there was a phone in the en suite and in the public loos were individual towels to dry your hands – yes – real towels (must admit though these disappeared as 1200 guests arrived!).
The discussion panels. Except for one where one of the panellists was clearly rather drunk, the panels were great. I particularly enjoyed the one on our future survival on this changing planet and the one on surveillance societies – these 2 will get separate blog posts about their discussions at a later date. I even enjoyed being mocked about going to a panel which had on it a certain author whose book I reviewed rather negatively recently. The reason I was mocked (apart from the fact this author is now one of my editors) was because the panel’s subject matter was ‘should authors respond to reviews?’. I got all kinds of threats that I would be named and shamed. My only consolation was that Christopher Priest, who was also on the panel, had also written a negative review of this author’s work in the past too. So at least I wasn’t alone.
The guest of honour talks:
China Mieville, as well as turning out to be a really nice guy and friend of someone we work with (weird in itself – small world) gave a great talk. Again the subject matter will be a blog post for a later date. But his speech sparked a fantastic debate about the death of the author that night in the real ale bar (discussions at length over a beer are officially one of my hobbies and since cons are just like a 5 day version of that it’s no wonder I had a good time).
Niel Gaiman read some fantastic pieces of writing to us and spoke very entertainingly. Although not as intellectual as China Mievill’s talk, Gaiman’s was interesting, amusing, and when he read his fiction, captivating.
Charles Stross. Went to this one a bit late. Met Geoff Ryman and had a little chat with him and we decided to sneak into Stross’s talk. Geoff is so tall I manged to use him to hide behind. Stross’s speech was more technology based that the other two talks. Interesting in a different way I suppose.
The dealer’s room. Got some great stuff this year. A couple of books on Lovecraft I’m very pleased with and there will probably be another blog post on those at some point. Best of all though I managed to get some fantastic 1920s sf magazines with some great story titles – ‘Vibrator of Death’ definitely warrants another blog post – expect that one immanently!
Meeting up with some great people – got to see some old friends and make some new ones.
The general mix that you get at cons of fans, authors, academics etc all chat in to one another in one great melting pot.
The real ale bar.
The food. This was the best convention food I’ve had, especially considering the amount of people being catered for. The only problem is that all that good food has had waistline implications. All I’m going to say is that P. has put on 4lb since we went away. And since he is officially the thinnest man ever there’s no hope for the rest of us! I blame pastries at breakfast…
I’m going to finish by saying that the con organisers deserve a massive thank you – this was the best Eastercon we’ve been to.
I shall blog again (when I get time) about some of the points mentioned in this post – particularly ‘Vibrator of Death’. I’ll also post the photos on my facebook as soon as poss…
P.S. Arthur C. Clarke - RIP
We have just spent 5 brilliant days at Orbital – the annual science fiction convention. This year it was hosted at the Radisson Edwardian Hotel at Heathrow. Over 1200 sf fans got together over the Easter weekend to meet up, discuss and share their enjoyment of sf.
One of the strangest things about being at a con is the fact that you enter a self-contained world. Once inside the hotel we went for the Star Trek type womb fantasy of 'this hotel is our self contained, all providing universe for the next 5 days'. It's amazing how quickly it is possible to adapt to being in a place - so that the outside world seems unreal. The surrounding areas seemed so divorced from the convention that when we got another glimpse of them from the car park as we were leaving, 'normality' had taken on an unfamiliar, alien quality. Semi-detached houses and urban decay - the norm when we arrived at the hotel, seemed strangely out of place after spending all that time amongst marble and wood and crisp sheets and thick white towels. Now, back home our house too feels like an alien space - devoid of fans, real ale and booksellers. It has been a strange day today, reacclimatizing and getting over a strange sense of grief that the con is over for another year (to try to overcome our post con depression, we have, like Mr Roy and Procrastinatrix booked for the next 2 years).
In terms of the con itself here are the highlights:
The hotel. This was the first time I’ve ever stayed in a 5 star hotel. It seems to me that, aesthetically at least, what distinguishes the 5 star hotel from the other varieties, is the fact that it is made primarily of marble and wood. So, as you can imagine, it was beautiful, if a little strange in its décor. On the one hand there was marble floors, wood panelling, enormous chandeliers and on the other there were areas that were modern, including illuminated bridges (like something out of a 1920s musical) over glass areas with glass fish, but surrounded by old fashioned statues and antiques from around the world. Anyway, it was delightfully posh – so posh there was a phone in the en suite and in the public loos were individual towels to dry your hands – yes – real towels (must admit though these disappeared as 1200 guests arrived!).
The discussion panels. Except for one where one of the panellists was clearly rather drunk, the panels were great. I particularly enjoyed the one on our future survival on this changing planet and the one on surveillance societies – these 2 will get separate blog posts about their discussions at a later date. I even enjoyed being mocked about going to a panel which had on it a certain author whose book I reviewed rather negatively recently. The reason I was mocked (apart from the fact this author is now one of my editors) was because the panel’s subject matter was ‘should authors respond to reviews?’. I got all kinds of threats that I would be named and shamed. My only consolation was that Christopher Priest, who was also on the panel, had also written a negative review of this author’s work in the past too. So at least I wasn’t alone.
The guest of honour talks:
China Mieville, as well as turning out to be a really nice guy and friend of someone we work with (weird in itself – small world) gave a great talk. Again the subject matter will be a blog post for a later date. But his speech sparked a fantastic debate about the death of the author that night in the real ale bar (discussions at length over a beer are officially one of my hobbies and since cons are just like a 5 day version of that it’s no wonder I had a good time).
Niel Gaiman read some fantastic pieces of writing to us and spoke very entertainingly. Although not as intellectual as China Mievill’s talk, Gaiman’s was interesting, amusing, and when he read his fiction, captivating.
Charles Stross. Went to this one a bit late. Met Geoff Ryman and had a little chat with him and we decided to sneak into Stross’s talk. Geoff is so tall I manged to use him to hide behind. Stross’s speech was more technology based that the other two talks. Interesting in a different way I suppose.
The dealer’s room. Got some great stuff this year. A couple of books on Lovecraft I’m very pleased with and there will probably be another blog post on those at some point. Best of all though I managed to get some fantastic 1920s sf magazines with some great story titles – ‘Vibrator of Death’ definitely warrants another blog post – expect that one immanently!
Meeting up with some great people – got to see some old friends and make some new ones.
The general mix that you get at cons of fans, authors, academics etc all chat in to one another in one great melting pot.
The real ale bar.
The food. This was the best convention food I’ve had, especially considering the amount of people being catered for. The only problem is that all that good food has had waistline implications. All I’m going to say is that P. has put on 4lb since we went away. And since he is officially the thinnest man ever there’s no hope for the rest of us! I blame pastries at breakfast…
I’m going to finish by saying that the con organisers deserve a massive thank you – this was the best Eastercon we’ve been to.
I shall blog again (when I get time) about some of the points mentioned in this post – particularly ‘Vibrator of Death’. I’ll also post the photos on my facebook as soon as poss…
P.S. Arthur C. Clarke - RIP
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