Now We Are One
Mar 23, 2024 · 1 minute readcaterpillars must die!
What we discovered over the weekend:
We’re working on the last one…
The great thing about the first hour of the BBC’s Election ‘97 coverage is the absolute glee that kicks in as soon as the exit poll drops. Peter Snow gets out his shiny new toys to show the landslide knocking Tories out all over the country, and then Paxman just butchers Michael Portillo for five minutes or so, gets interrupted by an OB with Paddy Ashdown, and then they come back so Paxman can go for another five at him. Also, at that stage, they didn’t think Portillo was going to lose his seat, so the night only goes downhill for him from there.
And then Frank Skinner interviews John Major and Tony Blair lookalikes, where he gets them to dance together while Skinner sings ‘Rock Around The Clock’. There’s nothing quite like a live General Election broadcast…
Weirdly, I also found myself down another nostalgia hole, one that has been somewhat time-locked due to the author. I finally broke down and read Planetary (it was essentially $4 for the entire series digitally on Amazon over Christmas and I thought ‘why not?'). It made me think, and even dream some thoughts on comics. One of Ellis’s problems (and somebody else a little more current) is that, in the end he’s too aloof and distant, too afraid of the cringe1 to really land a lot of his work, and doesn’t have Moore’s skills to back him in the tour of the 20th century that Planetary starts out as. Still, it was better than Ministry of Space at the very least.
I then got curious, and yes, Ellis is still blogging away. Like nothing happened. There’s vague allusions to comics work…but who would publish him these days?
Grant Morrison, on the other hand, is 100% cringe, but can sell the hell out of a line like “REALITY DIES AT DAWN!” that nobody else really can. ↩︎
This week, I basically implemented an entire RLAIF pipeline that can scale up to thousands of topics, generating scads of synthetic data, all with open-source software and models, and from start to finish of the first 7bn parameter model rolling off the assembly line was four days. And it would have been three if I had had the courage to kick off the training on Wednesday evening instead of Thursday morning. Oh, and it works, too.
It is nice to actually be building things again.
Anyway, we’re now officially into “it is X days until we travel so I will now start making noises about suitcases and packing like an absolute weirdo seeing as how we still have over two weeks until we fly home” season. It is a fun game that I’m sure Maeryn will be absolutely sick of by the time she’s 4. I also need enough space to bring back around 32kg of Cadbury Mini Eggs, so you can see my need for upfront planning. And also a reserve suitcase. We’ll be going to London as well, so maybe I need a Pelican case to cover the eventuality of visiting the booksellers at the South Bank?
By the way, if anybody wants me to bring something back overseas, now is your chance to speak out before the cases get filled with soap for my family back home…
Another week in the series of: “Did Maeryn get sick and pass it on to Daddy, or was it the other way around?” I personally have to blame the person who spends all her time playing with other small infection vectors (okay, I guess infants is a more ‘appropriate’ term) rather than the one who works from home. Just saying.
Anyway, will try to get up a longer post before the end of February, but March and the return to the UK awaits!
What happened was this: I was scrolling through my Instagram feed and past a Temu advert. I was distracted by what looked like a knock-off of the recent Lego Titanic, which additionally seemed to include an iceberg. Laughing at the tastelessness of including that, I tracked down the product page over at Amazon, AND BOY DID IT GET BETTER.
It’s not a knock-off of the Lego set at all, really; yes, it’s the Titanic, but it’s at a smaller scale (which does mean that instead of $680, its list price is $79, which makes it much more acceptable as something to actually buy). Here’s how my train of thought went as I went through the images:
Oh, it comes with a break-apart mode so you can display it…as it went down? That’s silly, but okay…
It has diorama bits inside…wait, is that the staircase? IT IS
What is that…OH MY GOD, IT’S THE HEART OF THE OCEAN IN THE GODDAMNED SAFE!
IT INCLUDES LEO & KATE MINIFIGURES????
Wait, is that…THERE’S A PRINT OF THE PORTRAIT???
Reader, I bought it. It was also reduced to $65 with a further 10% off at checkout, so I felt that if nothing else, ~2300 pieces of Lego for under $60 is not that bad. And damn, so here’s the thing. In proper Lego sets, even expensive ones, you’ll often end up with a sticker sheet which you have to apply to blank Lego tiles, because actually investing the money to print thousands of tiles with a print bonded onto them is a lot, compared to just using blanks and stickers. The company behind this set went to the expense of printing an entire run of naked Kate Winslet tiles, and for that we can only sit back in awe.
(Honestly, the only thing the set is missing is a door for the Kate minifigure. Yes, just the Kate one)
Apparently the build is terrible, and the instruction manual is printed about a third of the size that it should be to make all the steps clearly visible, but I think that’s a fair trade-off for the insanity that the set provides. One thing, though: because it isn’t minifigure scale, it doesn’t really fit into the plans for our Lego city. Which led me to a different set of thoughts. I could, maybe, get hold of a knock-off of the Parisian Restaurant modular building. And then? REBUILD IT AS RENÉ’S CAFE I have even given thought as to how to make the RAF airmen work in the attic, and how to hide the portrait in the kitchen. WE CAN MAKE THIS HAPPEN.
I probably need to be stopped before I do.
Oh, and I did computer-y stuff during the week. BUT NONE OF THAT MATTERS NOW. I HAVE A QUEST.
As part of my campaign to be a Proper Dad, I now have a 650 lumen light on my keyring. You know, just in case. It goes right next to the TARDIS (and the USB-A and USB-C keychain drives. It’s important to be prepared!).
Two different, but similar echoes this week. First: R.E.M. were on stage together for the first time this week since…2003? Although they didn’t perform. But it did lead to Tammy asking a question — are R.E.M. one of the biggest bands of the 90s to just seemingly disappear from the Culture? People who are younger than Gen-X or late-Millennial don’t seem to know almost any of their songs, which given the prevalence of Everybody Hurts back in 1993 just seems unthinkable. I’m guessing that back home, the only place you’d probably hear them on networked Radio these days is Radio 2, and even then only in a blue moon. There is not yet a 90s-based TV series willing to bring them back into the zeitgeist like Stranger Things did with Running Up That Hill or Saltburn has recently done with Sophie Ellis-Bextor.
This also ties in to other thoughts I’ve been having of late, of how Spotify has essentially created a context collapse in music culture. To take a big example — when I was growing up, The Beatles were this monolith that had to be investigated - sure you might hear one or two things on Radio 1, but to actually really hear them, you had to rifle through your parents’ record collection1 and they lived entirely separately in your head from what you were reading in Smash Hits or the NME. But now, it’s just what the recommendation algorithm suggests - an obscure Beatles album track can follow a 2024 new release and it’s just another AAC track to the algorithm - it doesn’t care one whit about the cultural impact of The Beatles at large; just that the neural network has decided that the salient features of Cry Baby Cry are what it thinks you need to hear next.
I’m not entirely sure this is a bad thing, either - I was so tickled when Life Without Buildings, of all people, suddenly became TikTok famous. It’s just different. But also, the experience of growing up in the UK with Top of The Pops and Radio 1, was a big difference from growing up in the USA with formatted radio stations and only a few nationwide music slots on late-night television. Imagine being in the 80s and not really hearing Fast Car or Back To Life on the radio. I do wonder what music Maeryn will end up listening to — I’m reminded of Mark Radcliffe once saying “if your parents like Belle & Sebastian, I’m sorry, it’s Norwegian Death Metal time.”
And now for something completely different2, oh wait, no.
We own everything we ever made in Python and I never dreamed that at this age the income streams would tail off so disastrously. But I guess if you put a Gilliam child in as your manager you should not be so surprised. One Gilliam is bad enough. Two can take out any company. https://t.co/J5tQauTH2D
— Eric Idle (@EricIdle) February 10, 2024
Now, putting aside that Eric Idle complaining about income streams brings into mind a goose chasing him shouting “What about Neil Innes, Eric? WHAT ABOUT NEIL’S MONEY?", the attack on Holly Gilliam seems wildly misplaced. After all, under her aegis, we finally got the most comprehensive remaster of the Monty Python series that we will likely ever see.3 Albums were re-issued, and the BFI did a series of screenings for the 50th anniversary. But…nobody cares. Streaming has caused physical sales to dive off a cliff, and even the BFI shows were sparsely attended. The once-majestic stride of the Pythons across British comedy is just now…a bunch of old 16mm and videotape sketches, some of which hit, and some of which miss.
(we’ll never see a complete Not The Nine O’Clock News release, but that’s another story4)
Obviously, I don’t know the full details, but the issue to me seems that there is only so much blood you can squeeze from four series, a few albums, and the films, the most recent of which is 41 years old. Unless somebody has the rushes of series 1 ready to give to Peter Jackson, there’s not much you can do except clean them up, sell physical copies, and bung them up on streaming services. All of which Holly Gilliam seems to have done. And honestly, when you compare Python availability to the works of Peter Cook, Joyce Grenfell, and Spike Milligan (and the rest of the Goons), the Pythons come out so well. Trying to even source a Pete and Dud album these days is a frustrating affair — it’s all gone, and the loss of Network means that you’re not likely going to find Q on any shelves in HMV any time soon either.
The problem in the Python case isn’t availability; it’s that the potential audience has dwindled down to sad cases like me that desperately hoard YouTube VHS uploads of a live Sunday comedy show5. And maybe that isn’t enough for a Hollywood lifestyle anymore…but Neil never got that, did he?
Well, okay, in my case, that was a little harder, as my parents wouldn’t have The Beatles or Bob Dylan in the house. So it’s a terrible example in my particular case, but I think in general it’s a good point. As for me, you can substitute Hounds of Love above. ↩︎
(I see what you did there — Ed.) ↩︎
Yes, Network is no longer with us. But the boxset came out in 2019, so not connected with their troubles. ↩︎
I know John Lloyd says that it’d take too much work to be worthwhile, and I can imagine clearing the library footage might be a mammoth task, but I can’t help feeling that the real problem is a combination of “oh my God, we made Pamela strip off that much?” and Atkinson still being pissed that she was there at all. I lost a lot of respect for him when I found out he didn’t rate her one bit… ↩︎
This Morning With Richard Not Judy was a programme that should not have existed, and yet somehow managed to last for two entire series and eighteen episodes. Aaaaah. ↩︎
I was underselling how sick we were last week, I think. This Tuesday morning, I woke up with the feeling that something bad was inside me (at 2:30am, mind you), and raced to the spare bedroom, not even taking my phone with me. Yes, I was without my phone for almost five hours, to give you an idea of how bad I was that I didn’t want to leave the bed to get it.
And then things are a bit of a blur until late Wednesday, if I’m honest. I’m on the mend now, and the tests swear it wasn’t Covid, but it was not fun. Or fun for Tammy, who isn’t well herself, and Maeryn either. Hopefully by the end of this coming week, though, we’ll all be somewhat better? Please?
As I do recover though, thoughts are turning towards the impending trip to London, and this weekend, we tested out what appears to be a marvel of 21st century baby technology: the gb Pockit+ All-Terrain buggy. It’s a buggy that transforms from a buggy to…well, a small block, but a small block that doesn’t look like it is a buggy, and small enough to be taken on a plane as a carry-on item. Maeryn’s only been in it inside the house so far, but she seemed to enjoy herself immensely - at daycare, her class goes in a massive buggy contraption across the building about once a fortnight, and she loves that too. I worry she’s going to love rollercoasters. I’m not prepared for having to try and stay composed for those. Anyway, the buggy seems to be a hit and will likely be put to good use on the streets of London towards the end of March.
Next week: let’s be well!
Apparently, we accidentally made an East-West mashup with our escape room two years ago - mixing the role-play aspects that Quinns sees here in the Jubensha games with more ‘traditional’ escape puzzles. And it worked pretty well, though our story was a little under-developed due a mad rush to get everything ready to the end. But! We had secret objectives, multiple endings for characters and whatnot, so I feel like we did have something there.1 We were ahead of the curve! Go us! And things.
Otherwise, we’ve all been sick this week. Check again later.
The sequel room, which was somewhat inspired by Meow Wolf, would have been (and still might be) something else. Imagine having a conversation along the lines of “how can we make time-travel work in the basement”, and “sure, I can use Pepper’s Ghost to make the group have a holomatter avatar guiding them”, with a side-helping of cutting-edge AI techniques and…look you’re just all lucky that Maeryn is too young for us to build her an escape room party, that’s all I’m saying. ↩︎
Another long week that I mostly can’t talk about yet, but two things that cropped up:
I have adapted to Midwestern life. Three inches of snow came down on Friday morning, and I needed to pick Maeryn up from daycare in Kentucky later that day. Even before the snow had stopped falling, I had grabbed my big snow shovel, cleared a large section of my driveway, put down salt, and dug my car out enough so that I could get on the road. I even managed to clear things before the neighbour across the road, who normally shames us all with his excellent snow-clearing skills, had even come outside. Victory! (this time, at least)
I was introduced to another British person this week. Here’s how that went:
Me: Where are you from?
Them: Manchester!
Me: Oh really? I went to university there!
Them: It’s odd - you know who you sound like? That Radio 1 DJ?
Me stares blankly as I haven’t interacted with Radio 1 for over ten years: Really? Who’s that?
Them: Hmm…Chris…Chris scrolls on their phone…
Me _thinking “please don’t say Chris Moyles, please don’t say Chris Moyles”
Them: Oh! Chris Evans!
Me: stares wider in a Southern accent
Other person: Chris Evans?
Both of us: Not that one.
Perhaps the first and only time I’ve been mistaken for a Northerner. I am sure my accent has drifted, but to Warrington???
Finally, I have settled on what might be the first tech blog post of the year…but that’s only if it works. If it doesn’t, then I delete everything from the hard drive and you’ll never even guess. Though a clue is that I spent part of last night downloading The Great Gatsby in a form I can easily vectorize (but also: I am known for terrible, terrible clues). So that may be upcoming! Or not! You see? I’m starting the year by kicking some excitement and drama back into the blog…