1515: Bring On the Weekend

I’m having a fairly shitty week. Not only have I not been feeling particularly 100% for a lot of it (though since I took that day off to rest and recuperate a bit, the rest of the week seems to have flown by) but a lot of things have been going frustratingly wrong, too. Nothing major or anything; just a mountain of tiny annoyances that, when added all together, just make me want to throw things.

For one thing, our coffee machine broke. It’s been working perfectly for ages — about 13 months, if our receipt is to be believed — but the other day it just decided that no, it was no longer going to pour coffee out of its spout; instead, it thought it would be a much better idea to pour the coffee inside itself instead. (I don’t even know how or why that is happening; there’s nothing blocking the spout or anything, so I can only assume one of the bits that goes voonkarankachank when you turn it on has stopped moving to where it goes clunk.) Hopefully we should be able to return it to where we got it and get it replaced, though. If not, it’s taking a trip back to Nespresso.

Then my laptop’s battery buggered up again. I only had this fixed back in January, and now it’s stopped charging again. Well, no, that’s not quite true — Windows says it’s charging and it works absolutely fine when plugged into the mains, but the battery percentage never gets off 0%. The Internet says I should try freezing it, but I’m not doing that. Fortunately, given that the machine was repaired not all that long ago, Novatech, bless ’em, are going to take a look and repair it for free. Their customer service has been consistently excellent any time I’ve needed it — which is mercifully infrequently with both my desktop and laptop systems I got from them — and I wouldn’t hesitate to recommend them to others.

Then some documentation I sent off in order to cash in some investment I don’t really understand that my parents had been holding for me didn’t arrive at its destination, which has delayed me coming into possession of a pleasingly large amount of money which I could do with to do things like pay off my credit card and, you know, pay for things with the new house.

None of this issues are “game-breaking” as they can all be resolved pretty easily; it’s just frustrating when all this shit happens at the same time — the same day, in the case of the latter two. Hopefully it shouldn’t take too long to get them all sorted out and I can get back to being pissy at people who won’t talk about anything but Titanfall.

For now, I’m off to bed with Hatsune Miku. On the Vita. Yes.

1513: Take a Moment

As you probably gathered from yesterday’s entry, I haven’t exactly been feeling on top of my game, so I had today as a quiet day of rest to try and recuperate a bit. I’m not quite sure exactly what has been getting me down — some combination of stress, exhaustion and achey muscles from overdoing it a bit in the gym, I think — but whatever it was, it pretty much knocked me out of action for most of this morning and I spent most of the day sitting on the sofa not doing very much.

Actually, that’s not quite true; a quiet day was the perfect opportunity to get stuck into The Witch and the Hundred Knight, which I’m reviewing later in the month and as such won’t be talking about on here just yet other than to say I’m enjoying it so far.

A quiet day is something we all need now and then, regardless of whether or not we’re actually feeling ill, run-down or some combination of the above. Weekends aren’t quite the same thing, because weekends often turn into “let’s do all the things we couldn’t do in the week”. You have to make a specific effort to have a relaxing weekend, otherwise you’ll magically find yourself at the shop, walking around town, digging the garden or something equally both banal and tiring.

The trouble with modern life is that it’s all too easy to fall into “the guilt trap” — feeling that doing “nothing” (i.e. taking the time to relax and recharge a bit) is somehow a waste of time. Different people feel this to varying degrees — I have one friend who feels guilty when he sits down to play computer games, for example, while I tend to feel it when I take a day off from work, as I did today. In my case, the guilt from taking a day off work stems from my time working as a teacher — there, if you took a day off, there was absolutely no doubt: you were negatively affecting someone else’s day, because they would have to cover your lesson. Not only that, but you’d still end up having to do some work even if you were on your deathbed; most schools expect you to provide some sort of cover work for you while you’re off. A more organised teacher than myself would have a bank of cover work already available but… yeah, no.

Anyway, suffice to say, despite feeling seriously grotty for pretty much the whole day, a restful day has done me the world of good. And while I’m not exactly feeling quite 100% again just yet, I at least feel a little more ready to face the world than I did this morning, which was, frankly, not at all — not helped by the fact that my coffee machine is presently broken. Boo, hiss and so on.

Anyway, that’s that. Off to bed for me, and back to the daily grind tomorrow.

1512: Fatigue

I joined the gym again yesterday, and got up early to go this morning. Now I feel like shit. I feel the two things are not coincidental, though the “feeling like shit” part, to be fair, was lingering in the background before the “going to the gym” part, so going to the gym probably did not help matters.

I am in a frustrating situation in that I clearly need to do some exercise — I’ve been feeling super-crappy recently, getting out of breath far too easily, and something I’ve done somewhere along the line feels like it’s knackered my left knee — but actually getting back into a good routine looks like it is going to be difficult. It will, of course, get easier over time assuming I keep it up, but it’s getting that initial burst of motivation going that is going to prove challenging, I feel.

My most positive experience with fitness was back when I worked at the Apple Store in WestQuay here in Southampton, and the gym and pool complex was both practically next door to where I worked, and on the way home. Consequently, it was pretty easy to just drop in, do some exercise either in the gym or the pool, then head home and have my whole evening ahead of me. It got me into good habits and made me feel reasonably good about the effort I was putting in — I’m not sure whether or not it actually helped me lose any weight, but part of it was just the mental wellbeing it brought about. I still wouldn’t have described myself as particularly “fit” but I was certainly a whole lot better than I am now.

The difficulty with being unfit is that it makes the process of actually getting fit infinitely more difficult to get started with. When it’s uncomfortable and painful to engage in exercise, the idea of voluntarily putting myself through that is not at the forefront of my mind. But I need to; hopefully it will be something that gets easier relatively quickly and helps me improve my motivation. Because right now there’s not a lot of it there — though some of that may be due to the fact that I don’t think I’m very well.

Going to get some good rest and then hopefully kick this thing off in earnest at some point in the next few days. I’m looking forward to having a swim, actually; it’s been quite a while since I had a good swim, and while I’m not very good at it — I’m painfully slow, even when doing “fast” strokes — I do find it to be quite a relaxing experience, so that could be the ideal thing to ease myself back into things.

Anyway, for now I’m off to bed. Apologies for the self-pitying nature of today’s post but, eh, you’re probably all used to it by now. G’night.

1511: Read This Post and I’ll Give You £1,000

No I won’t. Because… come on, fucking seriously? Do you really need me to explain why that is never, ever going to happen?

Apparently so, because last night’s #AskHannaForCash travesty on Twitter proved beyond the shadow of a doubt that social media is turning people into dribbling idiots.

For those not on Twitter, or who somehow missed this debacle while it was unfolding, here’s the gist.

Twitter user @princessthot posted that she was, for some reason, pissed off with her father, and promptly posted a screenshot that she claimed was his his PayPal account, which supposedly contained in excess of $23 million. She then offered to send money to anyone who retweeted her message or helped spread the word — an offer which would appear to be backed up by a number of people (who, it later transpired, were her followers) who offered messages of varying amounts of exuberance claiming that yes, she “really was” sending out money to anyone who asked for it.

The moment I saw this, I knew it stank. For one of just so many things wrong with this whole situation, who the hell keeps $23 million in a PayPal account — an unverified one, no less?

And yet, very few people — including, I was disappointed to see, some people I follow — seemed to think this was worth questioning, instead engaging with the situation on the grounds that it “couldn’t do any harm” or that it was “worth a try”. One person I follow said that they were “pretending it was real but staying out of it, because [they] want to think humans are awesome instead of terrible.”

Via the Daily Dot, here’s just how easy it is to fake a PayPal balance, incidentally:

Uh-huh. Okay. Still believe it? Still want to believe humans are awesome?

Humans are awesome, is the thing — just this week, two separate crowdfunding efforts paid for a little girl’s headstone and an indie game critic’s cancer treatment. But humans are also terrible, and social media is, regrettably, the natural habitat for some of the worst examples of everyday (i.e. not psychotic dictators or outright psychopaths) scumbags on the planet.

Anyone who’s used Facebook at all in the last few years will know that there’s an epidemic of blindly resharing things without checking to see whether they stand up to scrutiny. If something uses enough exclamation marks and capital letters, many more gullible users are convinced of its urgency and authenticity, and go on to spread it to their social network — and from there, the more gullible users from among their group of friends then spread it further and further and further.

#AskHannaForCash wasn’t as obviously harmful as claiming that Red Bull gives you brain tumours or that a non-existent breed of snake is going to freeze your blood (and, aside: please direct anyone who shares shit like that on your Facebook news feed to those two links and indeed the rest of Snopes at every opportunity). But it’s still harmful in its own way; the person behind the Twitter account, whoever he or she is, was purely seeking attention and validation through retweets and favourites — attach a number to anything and it is seen as social currency by some people, particularly those in their teens — and now, unsurprisingly, having revealed that the whole thing was a hoax (sorry, “social experiment” — the usual getout clause) they have come in for a torrent of abuse. That can’t be good for their mental wellbeing — something which I’d assume is already in something of a fragile state if they felt the need to pull such an elaborate ruse on the less discerning members of the social media sphere.

You my call it cynicism, but the attitude that “if it looks too good to be true, it probably is” will serve you well in the long term. Would you respond to an anonymous email claiming that you could come into possession of a huge amount of money just by providing some simple details? No — at least I hope not. Would you respond to a suspicious-looking Craigslist ad offering you a vast amount of cash for something simple? I imagine not. Would you let a random stranger into your house just because they promised to give you something amazing? I really hope you wouldn’t. So don’t do it on social media.

And come on. Do you really think an obviously bitter and twisted teenager “getting back” at their father by doling out their cash to random strangers is an example of humanity at its finest? Would you really trust that cash? Would you really trust that the details you’d have to hand over to obtain that cash wouldn’t find themselves into inappropriate hands?

If you would, then your Internet license is hereby revoked. Go and read a fucking book instead; it’ll be safer for everyone involved, including yourself.

1509: Love Trouble

Having finished Clannad a while ago, I needed my next anime fix. So the logical thing to do seemed to be to ignore all the things I’ve bookmarked and queued on Crunchyroll, and the DVDs I’ve bought but haven’t watched yet, and instead check out something that I’ve often seen mentioned (largely by J-List, which tends to be my main source of “have you heard of…?” content when it comes to anime) but didn’t know a whole lot about: To Love-Ru, alternatively known as Toraburu (which actually makes a little more sense, as it’s supposed to be a pun on the word “trouble” — hence the title of this post — and “toraburu” is how you would pronounce the English word “trouble” using Japanese syllables).

As I say, I didn’t know much about To Love-Ru before I watched it other than it involved a cute pink-haired girl with a tail and was a tad fanservicey. Frankly, I stopped being ashamed of enjoying fanservicey content a long time ago — why deny that you like something? — and so, unlike many other people when confronted with the prospect of fanservice, didn’t see the latter aspect as a negative thing at all. Beyond that, I knew nothing. It looked and sounded like enjoyably lightweight fluff, though, and after the emotional turmoil that Clannad put me through, that’s exactly what I wanted.

Shh. Don't tell anyone Pete admitted to liking fanservice. — Shh. Don’t tell anyone Pete admitted to liking fanservice.

I’ve learned one thing in the few episodes I’ve watched so far, then: the “alien girl visits Earth” trope I was introduced to with the excellent if ridiculous Haiyore! Nyaruko-san is apparently widespread enough to be a genre in its own right. To Love-Ru has a lot in common with the aforementioned Nyaruko, as it happens, primarily in terms of the dynamic between the hapless protagonist Rito and Lala, the pink-haired, tail-sporting cute girl.

Rito, much like Nyaruko’s protagonist Mahiro, is a boy in his mid-teens who is clearly at the age where he’s just starting to get interested in girls. He’s had his eye on his classmate Haruna for some time, it seems, but just as he thinks he might build up the courage to talk to her, Lala bursts into his life in explosive fashion, and subsequently begins a chain of increasingly ridiculous events.

Lala is from the planet Deviluke, and through an unfortunate series of coincidences — her running away from home to avoid an arranged marriage, her ship being shot down over Earth, her teleporting herself free of the wreckage and ending up in Rito’s bathtub — ends up engaged to Rito. (Deviluke custom dictates that grabbing a woman’s breasts is a proposal; something that Rito did completely accidentally while his bathtub appeared to be exploding around him as Lala made her entrance.) What then follows is an increasingly farcical comedy as Rito attempts to come to terms with being engaged to a perpetually energetic alien princess with a habit of getting herself and everyone around her into trouble, and whether or not he has finally had his last chance to confess to Haruna.

Somewhat like Nyaruko again, there’s a fair amount of sexual tension between Rito and Lala, though this is largely due to the fact that Lala is completely unashamed of her body and appears to be completely lacking in the ability to feel embarrassed, even when, for various reasons, all her clothes fall off. Rito, meanwhile, seems to constantly find himself in compromising positions with Lala just as Haruna is walking around the corner, leading to plenty of comic misunderstandings (and embarrassment on Rito’s part) along the way.

Like many shows of this type, incidental characters often get some of the most memorable moments, and Lala’s personal bodyguard Zastin, an imposing figure clad in spiky armour, speaking in that stereotypical “badass” anime voice, is a particular highlight. After an initial misunderstanding when he first meets Rito, he subsequently has a habit of dropping in at unexpected moments; it’s always amusing when Rito shows up home from school and Zastin is there in full armour happily drinking tea with Rito’s younger sister.

The main draw to keep coming back, though, is Rito’s relationships with the various women in his life. It becomes clear very quickly that despite his protestations and his constant reassurances that he is in love with Haruna, he cares for Lala very deeply, even though she is a constant pain in the backside for him whenever she’s around. Likewise, Lala treats Rito with genuine affection — though being from a literally alien culture, she sometimes doesn’t treat him with the same degree of consideration that we humans typically expect from one another. And then on top of all that, it gradually becomes obvious that Haruna has feelings for Rito, too, but that Lala is constantly getting in the way between these two apparently star-crossed lovers.

Will they ever get together, or is Rito doomed to an admittedly fun-looking life with the overly energetic Lala? I have no idea as yet, since I’m only a short way into the series as a whole, but I’m looking forward to finding out.

1507: Why I Went Back, and The Fear

I was going to write about something else today, but after Mr Russ Pitts kindly linked to a piece I wrote this time last year in an excellent article regarding online abuse and trolling, I felt I should probably elaborate on some things that have happened since then.

Firstly, despite what I said in that piece, it transpires that I did eventually go back to Twitter. Why? Because, to be frank, I was lonely; I have a lot of friends on that social network, and it was difficult to stay in touch with them via other means. It’s also a particularly convenient means of reaching out to people for my current profession.

So I went back. However, I did so under a new username and a new email address — and being much more mindful of what I shared in my 140-character bio.

This is in itself kind of silly, really; I have to effectively “silence” an aspect of my personality based on my previous experience, and cannot be fully open about the things I enjoy or love, because it might attract organised bile and vitriol not just towards me, but towards people close to me, too. Thankfully, on the few occasions I have happened to mention ponies recently, things have passed without incident — I suspect the charmers at the “GNAA” have moved on to new victims by now.

Thinking of all this brings up an important consideration that I don’t believe a lot of Internet commenters stop to think about before spraying vitriol over an article they disagree with: the fact that the words you read on the Internet are, for the most part, written by an actual person with a brain, a heart, a soul and, you know, feelings. People disagreeing over various things is a fact of life — the world would be a boring place if everyone felt the same way about everything, as The Lego Movie suggested in a somewhat hamfisted way — but it’s the way you go about those disagreements that is important to consider, because arguing your case in the wrong way — or wilfully misreading or misunderstanding something someone has said — can have a severe impact on their mental health.

I’ve been fairly open on this blog about my own self-esteem issues and occasional feelings of “imposter syndrome” — the feeling that one day, you might be “found out” and have everything taken away from you. I consider myself hugely lucky to have the job I have, working alongside people I have respected enormously for many years — since childhood in at least one case. There are days when I feel like I’m even quite good at what I do — but there are also days when I seriously consider throwing in the towel and going to do something “invisible” with the rest of the drones in the daily workforce.

The difference between those two types of day can often be just a single comment. Just one, regardless of how many otherwise positive or supportive comments you might have that day — one single, unpleasant, negative or abusive comment can completely ruin the day of someone like me.

I’m not saying all games journalists are like me — though from some conversation during the establishment of TakeThis.org, which Russ mentioned in his post, mental health issues of various descriptions are alarmingly widespread in our profession — but it’s surely just basic human decency to not, in effect, walk up to someone and start hurling abuse at them. And yet it happens. And not just from inconsiderate gamers angry about the score you gave Titanfall, either; sometimes even people who claim to be fighting for worthy causes can be needlessly aggressive, confrontational or even abusive, too. It’s a plague across the whole Internet.

This leads to what I call The Fear, which in turn leads to what Russ talks about in his post: the assumption that “do not engage” is the only way to deal with bullying, abuse or even just plain unreasonable comments. There are days when I write things and I’m genuinely afraid to look at the comment section — it’s an irrational fear, I know, but it’s what this age of anonymous abuse has wrought.

And what a ridiculous situation that is, when you think about it. People who write for a living — many of whom are considerably more talented than I am — are subject to The Fear on a daily basis. You never can tell what it is that’s going to attract the next batch of abuse, or death threats, or defamation, or simple spitefulness. It’s a horrible feeling.

And yet we still stick around, for the most part. Why? Because even amid all this, we love what we do, and we love engaging with those people who like to have a reasonable discussion about things without necessarily agreeing on everything — those people who, if we’re honest, make up the majority of our feedback. Sometimes we even become friends with those people.

But as I say, it only takes one nasty comment to undo all the good those people do for us. Just one.

Wouldn’t it be nice if we could live in a world where we could just love what we do without having to worry about The Fear ever again?

One day, perhaps. But there’s a long road ahead before we get there.

1506: A Girl Who Lives in a World That Has Ended

Did I say that I finally finished watching Clannad all the way through? I’m not sure I did. Anyway, yeah; I finally finished watching Clannad all the way through. And what a fantastic series it was.

Its reputation as “the crying anime” is well-earned, particularly during the second “After Story” season. After Story is just made up of moving scene after moving scene, delivering frequent emotional gutpunches without a moment’s remorse, though the first season certainly wasn’t averse to all this.

I particularly enjoyed it because it didn’t feel the need to spell absolutely everything out. It was mostly realistic and down-to-earth, but there were occasional subtle suggestions that there was something peculiar or possibly supernatural going on. It never took over the story — and, in fact, it was never truly explained conclusively — but it was there. It gave the whole thing a very strange atmosphere throughout; as I’ve mentioned before, even during fairly happy, joyful scenes there was a strange undercurrent of melancholy about the whole thing.

It helps that the show is held up by a strong, interesting cast, each of whom have their own stories to tell. Stars of the show are, naturally, protagonist Tomoya and heroine Nagisa — Tomoya is relatable and empathetic without being bland, while Nagisa has a few moe appeal elements without taking things too far — but the supporting cast are worthwhile additions, too.

Tomoya’s friend Sunohara provides some often-needed comic relief while dealing with his own personal struggles. Twin sisters Kyou and Ryou make up the tsundere and “sweet, shy girl” part of the cast nicely, with the twist that both of them may or may not have their own interest in Tomoya. Tomoyo, who is disappointingly absent from the series after it moves on from the cast’s school life and into adulthood, is an ass-kicking student council president-type who doesn’t take any shit from anyone. Kotomi is a wonderfully flawed genius with an airheaded personality (and a total inability to play the violin) but a keen mind.

Even the characters who are seen even less frequently are well-defined and memorable. Particular highlights are Nagisa’s parents Akio and Sanae, who are polar opposites in almost every way, and Sunohara’s sister Mei, who is simply adorable, but who also cares for her brother without getting into the incestuous territory that many shows stray into.

In a way, the manner in which various characters drift in and out of the “main” cast of the show is reflective of real life. After all, how many people you knew at high school are you still in touch with? Relatively few, I’d guess, but you’d still have a good catch up with them if you happened to be in the same place, I imagine. The same is true of Clannad’s cast and unfolding story — it’s Tomoya and Nagisa’s tale primarily, but people come and go as their respective lives grow and change.

Interestingly, one of the most interesting things the series does is outside of the main story arc, and it betrays the show’s roots as a visual novel. At the end of both the first and second series, there’s a “bonus” episode in which we get to see a “what if?” scenario where Tomoya gets together with someone else — Tomoyo in the first series, and Kyou in the second. Kyou’s was a particularly good episode, and it actually made me want to see more of her; she was one of my favourite characters throughout the show, and should I ever get the opportunity to play the original visual novel in English — I’m not entirely sure if the fansub project was ever completed — I have a sneaking suspicion she’d be the route I went for first of all.

Anyway. It was a sometimes painful, emotional struggle to make it through the complete series, but it was excellent. Memorable characters, touching moments, beautiful artwork and a satisfying conclusion; it’s an anime well deserving of its “classic” status, and if you think you can deal with All the Feels, I’d recommend you check it out when you get a chance.

1505: Farewell to Lucy Rat

We had to say goodbye to the late Lara rat’s former cagemate Lucy today.

She’d always suffered to a certain degree with respiratory issues — she was a very sneezy, snuffly rat — but she had never let things get on top of her, and had always been full of energy and life. Even well after she was out of her “childhood”, I continued to think of her as “the childish one”; “the silly one” while Lara was “the mature one”.

This is silly of course, since they were both rats and both consequently prone to acting like little furry psychopaths at a moment’s provocation, but still I couldn’t escape the personalities that I’d ascribed to them.

We first got Lucy shortly after Lara’s first cagemate Willow died very young. We didn’t know much about keeping rats at that time — still don’t, probably — but it was abundantly clear very quickly why people said that rats were sociable creatures, and that you should keep them at the very least as a pair. Lara was very lonely after Willow died, losing nearly all of her energy and spending most of her time just sitting in the plastic “house” we hung from the cage’s ceiling, staring out at us. It was heartbreaking, so it wasn’t that long before Andie came home with another little box from the pet store, and Lara had herself a new cagemate.

Lucy was incredibly shy when we first got her. She spent her first few days in the cage attempting to hide in the corner, burying her head in the bedding on the floor. This didn’t stop Lara fussing around her, though; we were worried that the two might not get along, since they weren’t from the same group, family or whatever, but it turned out it was the opposite that was the case — Lara cared for her a little too much if anything. Eventually, we put Lucy in a carrying box but still inside the cage so she could have a little peace from her doting cagemate — Lara, meanwhile, became adorably frantic with worry, trying desperately to get into the box and to her new friend.

Over time, Lucy came out of her shell — though not before she gave us a scare one day by playing dead very convincingly — and started to take on the cheeky personality we came to know her as. She’d harass Lara, occasionally giving her a playful nip on the ear or getting in her way when she was trundling around the floor, but it was clear the two of them cared for each other very much. When Lara hurt her leg and was limping for a day or two, Lucy laid off her a bit and instead stayed with her, huddling around her for warmth and looking to all intents and purposes like a little furry nursemaid. As soon as Lara was back on her feet, however, it was business as usual once again.

When Lara died, we saw Lucy start to behave in much the same way as Lara did when Willow died. She became uncharacteristically lethargic, retreating into the hiding places in the cage and not coming out unless we specifically poked her. We tried to give her as much love as we could, but it was clear that while she appreciated our attention, it was the companionship of her own kind that she was looking for.

So it was that we came into ownership of Socks and Clover, two much younger rats. Again, we were a little worried that Lucy might not take to them, but they became friends very quickly. Socks in particular took to following Lucy around and copying her; it was very cute indeed.

A few times in the last couple of months, Lucy had become very wheezy and was obviously having trouble breathing. It worried us each time we saw it, but it usually passed in an hour or two and was normally a sign that she’d simply been overexerting herself — she wasn’t as young as she used to be. Last night, she had an episode that worried me; with good reason, since she was still puffing and wheezing today, and clearly didn’t have a lot of energy at all. We took her to the vets — tell them your pet is having breathing problems and they tend to magically have a same-day appointment available, it seems — and sadly we came to the conclusion that Lucy was in pain, miserable and unlikely to get better, even with treatment.

And so we said our goodbyes and put her to sleep. It is very sad, as always — both Andie and I have had several good cries over our dear departed little furry friend — but it’s better that she’s released from her suffering rather than being forced to live on in obvious pain and discomfort. Besides, now wherever she is, she can catch up with Lara and get back to biting her ears for all eternity. Won’t that be nice, Lara?

Lucy now joins Lara buried in the small patch of garden behind our building. In a way, I’m glad they got the chance to be together, but it’s still sad we had to say goodbye to her the way we did. As cute and friendly and curious as rats are — they’re wonderful pets; I would have never considered them before we got Lara and Willow, but now I’m a total “convert” as it were — their time on this Earth is tragically short, and so before long you find yourself having to say goodbye to them.

Goodbye, Lucy. Andie and I will treasure the happy memories you gave us, and we hope you’re in a happy place now. Say hello to Lara for us, and we hope we brought you as much joy as you brought us.

1502: The Only Shortcut That Matters

Looking for something to watch over breakfast the other day, I decided I’d check out Ricky Gervais’ latest work Derek. I was expecting Gervais’ usual brand of “cringe comedy” exemplified by The Office and Extras — perhaps with additional cringe factor thanks to the character he was portraying — and not anything special. Over the course of the show’s few episodes, though, I was very pleasantly surprised to find what is, without a doubt, Gervais’ finest work to date — and not just from a comedic perspective.

Derek, lest you’re unfamiliar, centres around Gervais’ titular character, a middle-aged guy who may or may not be autistic and who works in a nursing home. Joining him in the main cast are his friends Dougie the caretaker (Karl Pilkington essentially playing himself) and Kevin the unemployed, along with Hannah — the manager of the nursing home — and the various old folks who they take care of together.

It’s one of those shows in which not a whole lot happens, yet what does happen always feels meaningful. In keeping with Gervais’ previous shows, it’s presented in “docudrama” format, with candid footage interspersed with talking head shots from Derek and the gang reflecting on what’s been happening. Over the course of the series, we get to know Derek and his friends extremely well, seeing them through both happy times and sad ones.

Derek is unsurprisingly the highlight of the show, initially appearing to be a bumbling, gurning simpleton but occasionally showing flickers of sharp wit — such as the sequence where he makes Kevin explain a dirty joke to him until it’s not funny any more, then explains to the camera afterwards that he did get it really, he just pretends not to because he knows it annoys Kevin.

More than wit, though, Derek is in possession of an incredibly compassionate soul — and he’s not the only one. Hannah is described by several characters as only caring about the happiness of others, even at the expense of her own, and she constantly wrestles with the path her life has taken, wondering if she might have done things differently if she hadn’t dropped out of school early. There’s a particularly awkward scene where one of her former peers at school shows up to bring her mother in to the home, but Hannah comes off best out of the whole exchange by the simple virtue of not having alienated everyone around her.

It’s an incredibly touching, moving show throughout — and not just at the times when one of the elderly residents of the nursing home passes on. There’s at least one moment in every episode where something very simple but utterly profound happens, and it moved me to tears on more than one occasion. The last episode in particular, in which a long-term resident of the home finally passes on and causes all of the cast to reflect on their respective life situations, is both heartbreaking and beautiful at the same time — particularly when we see the normally gruff, “laddish” Kevin break down in tears as he comes to the realisation that Derek “took the only shortcut that matters: kindness.”

Critics of the show have called it transparently emotionally manipulative, and perhaps it is — the liberal use of Coldplay on the soundtrack is testament to that — but personally I’m not sure there’s anything all that wrong with that. In Derek, Gervais has written an unusual but admirable character whom we could all do to observe the positive traits of; he’s also crafted a show that is enjoyable, eye-opening and which encapsulates the philosophy of “don’t judge a book by its cover” very neatly. It’s well worth a watch — just have the tissues handy.

1486: Funny Ha-Ha

As I type this, a Dave broadcast, repeat, whatever (probably repeat) of a Frank Skinner stand-up show has just finished. It made me laugh rather a lot. I haven’t watched a Frank Skinner show for quite some time and I was pleased to see he doesn’t appear to have changed all that much — he still primarily tells imagery-heavy stories about sexual encounters, and in doing so paints quite the vivid picture with his words.

Catching this show got me thinking a bit. I haven’t watched a whole lot in the way of stand-up comedy for a long time, whereas it used to be something I really enjoyed doing. I think part of this is due to the fact that I don’t really know who’s good these days — and the little modern stand-up I have seen doesn’t really appeal all that much. This may partly be due to the fact that you tend to catch stuff like this on Dave or BBC3, the latter of which in particular is aimed at young and stupid people.

Comedy goes in cycles and phases, and the comedians who are popular at any given moment give a good snapshot of culture at the time. A few years back when Eddie Izzard was popular, for example, that kind of fast-paced, clever humour was fashionable — everything tying together. Today, it seems that one fashionable style of comedy is the string of unrelated one-liners, one after another — funny, sure, but it doesn’t quite “click” with me as much as the intertwining threads of something like Izzard’s comedy.

I haven’t seen a lot of musical comedy of the the kind best exemplified by Bill Bailey and Tim Minchin recently, either. This is a real shame, because both of these performers are clearly very skilled musicians as well as witty comedians. Both still occasionally show up on comedy panel shows — a good means of catching favourite comedians long after their standup isn’t seen quite so often on the television — but, you know, I’d pay good money for a new Bill Bailey show.

I saw Bill Bailey live when I went to the Edinburgh Festival from university, and it was a magical experience. I, and many of my companions who were also in attendance, immediately fell in love. Many of us were familiar with Bailey’s work on TV shows, but perhaps not his stand-up; after that, meanwhile, it wasn’t long before all of us went and picked up all his DVDs.

I don’t really have a point to all this. Perhaps I’m asking in a roundabout way whether there are any good comedians out there who are worth seeking out. For reference, I enjoy stuff like Bill Bailey, Eddie Izzard, Dara O’Briain and that sort of thing. (I’ve even been known to enjoy Michael McIntyre, though as I recall you’re not supposed to admit that sort of thing. But ah, fuck it.) Any must-see comedians out there that I’m missing out on?