Graffiti: A Short Sci Fi Love Story (Code Book 1)

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Read PDF Graffiti: A Short Sci Fi Love Story (Code Book 1)

Description Colour in your very own graffiti masterpieces, sourced from the original artists. From best-selling colouring book author Aye Jay Morano, this action-packed graffiti colouring book features 30 images from some of the hottest street artists and taggers working today.

Including pages illustrated by Dondi, Lady Pink, Dalek, and Shepard Fairey-this book offers hours of entertainment for artists, hipsters, and graffiti art fans of all ages. Super cool! It's also decidely dodgy in its depiction of women.

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It's entirely reliant on its ability to dazzle us with special effects, entirely repudiating overt theatricality despite being set in and filmed in a theatre, and purporting to depict the life of a great playwright. It actually starts trying to think about theatricality, via the relationship between reality and language. In fact, the relationship between reality and language is at the very heart of the story. And yet, language is actually devalued by the haphazard and garbled way the plot ends up depicting its putative power.

This is a serious set of problems. The last is all the more ironic, given that the story centres upon the person of Shakespeare, who used language to create and tear apart alternate 'realities' on stage. You see, numbers are words. Both numbers and words are the same thing: audible and textural symbols, pictures of reality. Sadly, it lasts for a couple of lines and then evaporates.

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Even if we grant that words and numbers are, on some fundamental level, different Are they really meant to represent transcendental, dimension-puncturing, alien supertechnology? If their culture really is based on language this banal, then we must hope they never return and stumble into Clinton Cards.

God only knows what they could do with Alanis Morrisette lyrics. The Doctor comes out with something about the words of a play promoting emotions in an audience nothing to do with actors, musicians or anybody else involved in staging theatre then and supposedly this show us how words can alter reality.

This is very much in keeping with the mawkish tendencies of modern Who and it is a sentiment that Shakespeare, for all his populism, would probably have rejected. But, to return to the point, how do we get from feeling sad because Cordelia is dead to ripping open inter-dimensional portals?

After all the stuff about words rather than numbers being capable of summoning Carrionites, the speech that will supposedly enable the Carrionites to manifest themselves contains a whole string of numbers! Apparently, the emotional impact of words is enough to punch holes in reality. But it works with numbers too.

Read PDF Graffiti: A Short Sci Fi Love Story (Code Book 1)

It works when actors speak emotionless words without understanding them. It even half-works when the actors are rehearsing to an empty theatre… so is it not about emotions but just about words and polygons?


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In which case, why bother having the spell performed in front of an audience? What else is there? Zigma energy is bollocks too but nobody minds.


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The Carrionites do seem to need Shakespeare… But why? Ah yes There is no sense of him having to struggle for his words or work at his writing. Shakespeare himself is seen to endorse this idea. The story makes his words the result of magical inspiration, not talent or toil… something which implies a massive lack of respect for his work. By making him into a superman, they make him less than human.

And this is the fundamental problem with the whole notion of the "celebrity historical", going right back to its half-hearted birth in 'The Mark of the Rani' which itself stupidly and inaccurately reduces the industrial revolution to the work of a few GENIUSES : the 'celebrity' is gawped at and worshipped by the story as though the programme makers are paparazzi stalking them for Heat Magazine.

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The personality of the real, human Shakespeare can only guessed at. He seems to have been ambitious, well educated, romantic, fond of his children There's a whole publishing industry devoted to worthless speculation about his personality. More pertinently, he may have been a secret Catholic sympathiser. He also seems to have been liked by his colleagues and contemporaries. But none of that tells us what he was like. We also get, in outline, a caricature of a figure very much of our times: the celeb artiste.

The episode obviously thinks its being irreverent by showing Shakespeare as a star who joshingly insults his audiences but, while this might jar with some popular preconceptions about the man, the behaviour itself is so familiar from our own time that it still fails to surprise. He was both an artist and a commercially minded theatrical entrepreneur he probably wouldn't have comprehended the opposition that we are inclined to see here. He spent most of his time away from home and family, living alone in London.

This last is referred to, but only in a throwaway joke. At least some of his poems, brilliantly wrought works of high beauty and intensely dark emotion, were nevertheless written for rich patrons who could cough up the cash. They were not improvised as chat-up lines. More bardolatry, more elitism, more confusion of the concepts. There is, for example, his possible association with the Catholic underground and his friendship with Kit Marlowe rival playwright and part-time government spy.

I suppose it could have been worse. We might have had scenes where Anne Hathaway got into a cat-fight with Martha. They just need him to take dictation while going cross-eyed under the influence of a voodoo puppet… well, you could get Jeffrey Archer to do that! Or even Dan Brown. They really might just as well have had the whole story set in the present day with the Carrionites manipulating Rowling into putting their code into the next Harry Potter book and summoning their race onto the film set when Daniel Ratcliffe says the line.

Maybe that makes Catherine Cookson a candidate for artistic demi-godhood too. Along with Liberace, James Last and Hitler. Some of those Nuremburg speeches really ought to be required reading in schools. Okay, they may be incoherent, bombastic, specious, fatuous, banal and filled with ideas of incomparable evil… but they sure made the audience quiver!

Well, I'm sorry, but Deepak Chopra sells lots of books. Do we really want to go there? Which would be pretty fucking dumb, frankly. In view of all this, it almost seems redundant to mention factual howlers.

Not only is there no mystery to us, there would have been no mystery to people at the time. And Love's Labours Lost almost certainly wouldn't have played at the Globe when it was new, earning thunderous applause from the groundlings; it appears to have been written as a bit of showoffish look-at-how-erudite-I-am material for an elite audience. It was used at the Globe, much later, but shows no signs of having been a hit.

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Even today it is considered a difficult, slippery, highly-cerebral, verbally inaccessible play. What a fascinating setting he thumbs his nose at!

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A place full of bubbling religious and ideological conflict, a proto-police state swarming with informers and spies and torturers, an outwardly pious Babylon, the centre of the English renaissance, a hub of artists and thinkers, a pit of squalor lorded over by the rich. None of this gets a look in. Roberts is too busy telling us how the world of the Elizabethans was exactly like ours only in funny clothes.

The darkly comic world of I, Claudius has more to do with the manner and morals of bourgeois 20th century England than the real ancient Rome, but we accept it because the world presented to us seems to have depth, to have nooks and crannies, to have side streets and byways, to have things going on around the corners. Even Martha devolves into a sort of companion-shaped gap in the picture, asking dumb questions and fixating upon the Doctor at the expense of all else.

Even the Krillitanes had more motivation than the Carrionites.

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