Eating Muffins in an Agitated Manner

What I did today

Posted by Sari

Jukka has managed to get some variant of carpal tunnel syndrome on his hands which has made writing a bit difficult, but he is on the mend. One would think I would suffer worse as I have done little else except played Civ all night long. Scheherazade is kicking Hammurabi's ass.

Actually I have done lots of other things. I have refurbished my bike. It has new lock, new saddle bag, new bell, new saddle and a funky computerthingy which measures everything from speed to burned calories. I even managed to do all maitenance myself - well amost myself, Jukka helped with the brakes. Now I don't need to call Underlife BC to rescue...

Also, Uimastadikka is open again. It is so much nicer to swim under open sky than it is in an indoor swimming pool. It has been so chilly that there has been plenty of room so far, though I expect it will be more crowded soonish.

I have also been in liaisoning with all sorts of people about the work-place move. Our current building is going to be remodelled inside out so we are moving to the next block. It has been a pretty hectick few days and I expet it will be for days to come. The new digs are nice, tho.

Kymmenen vuotta groupiena

Posted by Sari

Kyllä se aika rientää ja muita vastaavia kliseitä. Lauantaina oli PK:n satavuotisjuhlakonsertti Espoon kulttuurikeskuksessa. Entiset ja nykyiset kuorolaiset frakeissaan, heidän daaminsa iltapuvuissa ja me tavallinen kansa tunsimme itsemme todella alipukeutuneiksi jakkupuvuissamme. Tosin sopii miettiä mitä insinöörinalkujen matikantaidosta sanoo se että kuoro juhlii 100-vuotista taivaltaan 104 vuotta perustamisen jälkeen.. (kyllä kyllä, minä tiedän, perustamisvuosi löytyi arkistojen kätköistä niin myöhään että bileet oli ennätetty jo suunnitella).

Minulle ja muutamille ystävilleni juhlat merkitsivät myös henkilökohtaista virstanpylvästä: kymmenen vuotta olemme olleet kuorogroupieita, vaikka kuorolaisystäviemme helpotukseksi emme koskaan toteuttaneet uhkaustamme otaa konsertiin mukaan "we love Jaakko and Jussi" bannereita tai kirkuen pyörtyä "Maa on niin kaunis" -laulun jälkeen Johanneksen kirkon keskikäytävälle. PK on tavalla tai toisella rytmittänyt elämäämme: Joululahjat vaihdettiin joulukonsertissa, syntymäpäivään kuului serenaadi kvartetilta Ullanlinnanmäellä jos sinne vaan jaksoi vappuilemaan raahautua ja kesä ei alkanut ennen kevätkaronkkaa. Kummitytärtäni tuskin olisi olemassa ilman PK:ta, kvartettilaulu olisi jäänyt puuttumaan muutamistakin häistä ja kihlajaisista, sukulaiset olisivat jääneet vaille lukemattomia levylahjoja ja maailma olisi säästynyt epävireisen alttoni esittämiltä mieskuorolaulun klassikoilta (Käy Meetsolan Haallki).

Suurella mielenkiinnolla ja sanotaanko nyt jopa ylpeydellä olemme seuranneet PK:n kansainvälistä uraa, hämmennyksellä sen puolisotilaallista kuria ja päätämme pudistellen olemme kuunnelleet juttuja halkojen kuljettamisesta Kanarian saarille ja katselleet laskuhumalaisen teekkarilauman harhailuja New Yorkilaisen hotellin aulassa.

Taiteellisesti PK on näiden kymmenen vuoden aikana vain vahvistunut. Ensimmäisinä kertoina kun kuoroa kuulin, he hapuilivat vielä hiukan, mutta nykyään se on ansainnut paikkansa yhtenä maamme johtavista mieskuoroista. PK on nuorten miesten kuoro ja tästä syystä se ei koskaan pysty bassolaulannassa luomaan yhtä syvää äänimaailmaa kuin ikähaitariltaan laajemmat kuorot, mutta tämän PK on aina korvannut kauniilla,  kehtaisiko sanoa lyyrisellä äänenvärillä, palavalla tulkinnalla ja vuosien varrella yhä vain parantuneella pianissimoiden hallinnalla.  Länsiön johdolla PK on kantaesittänyt paljon modernia musiikkia ja tasapainottanut ne ohjelmistossaan hyvin klassisemman mieskuoro-ohjelmiston kanssa. Konsertit ovat aina olleet niin viihdyttäviä kuin taiteellisesti kunnianhimoisiakin. Ja Joulu ei ole joulu ellei CD:ltä soiteta PK:n tiernapoikia.

Joten onnea (yli) satavuotisesta taipaleesta ja Espoon Seudun kulttuurirahaston palkinnosta niin kuorolle kuin sen tehtävästään vetäytyvälle taiteelliselle johtajallekin. Joulukonsertissa tavataan.

Salman Khan Saturday

Posted by Sari

Without meaning to, Tarja and I ended up with three Salman Khan movies for our latest Bollywood treat: Hum Dil de Chuke Sanam, Chori chori Chupke Chupke and Tere Naam. The first was a vintage Sanjay Leela Bansali fare: Breathtaking sets, colours and setting up of the scenes but crap story and dialogue. See, Aish loves Salman but they do not tell Aish's dad early enough. Daddy gets angry, orders Salman never to see Aish again and marries her off to Ajay Devgan. Ajay realises his new wife is in love with someone else and decideds to unite the star-crossed lovers even though it breaks his heart. After wandering around Budapest (substituting for Italy) and looking for Salman Aish realises it really is Ajay she loves. The end. To accuse Aish's and Salman's characters of acting like teenagers would be insult to teenagers. They act like they are eight years old. And chemistry between Aish and Salman? Please, it is Ajay that burns up the screen.

Chori Chori Chupke Chupke was a desi take on some elements of Pretty Woman. Rani and Salman are happily married but after a miscarriage she cannot have children. To please the jolly grandfather Amish Puri who wants to be a great-grandfather they decide to get secretly a surrogate mother for the baby. Salman's choice ends up being prostitute Preity Zinta who moves in with the couple who relocate to - you guessed it - Switzerland. After many convoluted twists, baby is delivered, Preity has learned her own value and is ready to start a new lifev while Rani and Salman can start playing happy families. This was not bad but not especially memorable either. And if Preity's dance when he first meets Salman is supposed to be a lap-dance, indians have a very strange idea of seductive.

Tere Naam was the most serious of the three. It is a hindi version of a story which has already been done three times and tells of a jobless bully of the neighbourhood (Salman) who falls for the nice girl on the block (Bhoomika Chawla - is she related to Juhi?). It begins lightly enough but turns soon into much darker when Salman can't control his temper and ends up in mental asylum. Bhoomika's role should have been played by Manisha Koirala and Salman should have for once kept his shirt on, then this might have worked. Now he tries but the shirtless-Salman stereotype just gets in the way and Bhoomika is a bit too innocent and goody to project anything that Salman might be interested in. The title track is nice, tho.

Master Guilter

Posted by Sari

Yes, I know it is not a word but so what.

I went to hairdresser's few days back. I had not been since early autumn, it felt somehow wrong to go and get a new do when Jukka was loosing all his hair - irrational but that is how I felt. So my hair was overgrown and also greasy as there was no point in washing my hair just before hairdresser would wash it. This time I got a very  good hairdresser who knew his stuff  managed to make my hair look really good, but while doing that he managed to make me feel irrationally guilty about not going to hairdresser more often. He obviously thought my hair was a disaster and probably would be the death of me if I did not start taking care of it better.  So there I was paying through the nose to be lectured on hair care. By a balding hairdresser. Look, I don't like to blow-dry my hair, I don't like to stuff mousse or hair gel or any other expensive goos in my hair, I don't like to wash my hair every day. This is not a crime. And still, in the classic female way I could not but feel guilty about neglecting my hair so terribly. Darn.

Pelitaloudesta

Posted by Sari

Oletteko kukaan lukenut tästä? Minusta toisten pelaajien/hahmojen kanssa kommunikoiminen on ylivoimaisesti tylsintä ja typerintä tietokonepeleissä - syy miksi pidän Mystistä niin paljon - mutta täytyy myöntää että on jotain sekä kiehtovaa että luotaantyöntävää ajatuksessa että virtuaalimaailma linkittyy tosimaailman talouteen.

Them Fixed It!

Posted by Sari

Mr. Sanders feels better,  much better. Marko and Kummari fixed him. Yay. Even though my nerd credentials took a dive when I wasn't really sure how to change the thingummy where computer gets its power from. Maybe the fact that I have no idea what it is called in English is indicative of something.  On the other hand, thingummy is such a nice word I rather use it anyway.

In other news: Darn them Canucks! On the other hand, with that line-up Sweden should have been able to beat them.  Not that Canada had a bad team, it didn't. Even so, a little bit of mind over matter there. And quite a lot when we talk about USA. Their yogiberraish attitude took them to bronze medals. Then again, they had something to prove after the disasterous last tournament. And Finland. What can I say. Except KIMMO KUHTA. Hindsight is twenty-twenty, but I am so going to indulge for a bit. Kimmo Rintanen my...

Also, books, Obivously I have been on a reading binge this year. In addition to all the work stuff, and review stuff and evaluation stuff I have managed again to read just for fun. Firstly, Steph Swainston's weird, weird fantasy The Year of Our War. That book was acid. Which should not come as such a surprise as the main character is a winged immortal drug-addict who battles against giant insects. Acid, I tell you.  If you like Miéville and  William Barton get this book. There should be some left at Akateeminen. What are you waiting for?

I also finished Mary Gentle's 1610 which I loved. It is nowhere as weird as Swainston's novel, but it is a lovely Dorthydunnetlike alternative history novel. A samurai, a young swordsman and a middle-aged swordmaster cum spy swash and buckle their way through France, England and Japan trying to change the future. Shakespeare, James I, Rocicrucians and Armand Jean du Plessis are all involved somehow, and if that sounds too much like just another plotty Dumas-clone, let me add a modern twist by telling (spoiler!) that the young swordsman is actually a swordswoman with a sadistic bent and the swordsmaster is a bisexual closet masochist. Fun.

As was Diane Johnson's Le Divorce. A pleasant fluff with some insights to differences between French and American mentalities and some universal musings about families and in-laws. Russo's Empire Falls was a more serious effort to depict the life in a has-been factory town in New England. Beautiful writing and well rounded characters but I could care less about the subject matter.

That I guess is it. Unless I have again forgotten a book something. Which is quite possible. I was supposed to go to this party on Friday and I just plain forgot. My mind is defenitely going. Last night I even dreamed of how to foil the dastardly attempt by Russians to attack Hyderabad. (In this latest game I am Kajol, empress of the India and I have named all cities I have conquered from other civilizations after Bollywood stars. Shahrukh is building a factory while Mukherjee concentrates on irrigating nearby areas...)

Read

Posted by jukkahoo

Our computer has had some problems with the outside world. It's been less troublesome for Sari since she has her work-connection, but I have been a bit "out" of it recently. And then there was that article I wrote and for the past few days I've been flu'ish. Which isn't really very nice considering it's summer outside and warm and I'm feeling bit feverish. And apparently some allergy inducing plant is polluting too. Damn you modern medicine and the lowered resistance levels of modern men! Ooops... I meant to say, Damn you Nature and your evil ways of reproducing and Hooray! for Modern Medicine!!!

I've read books. David Gemmell's Swords of Night and Day was as good as I expected, fast-paced, fun, exiting and sooo-o Gemmell-by-numbers that it almost ought to be made illegal. It's still all good and if you like his cup of broth, you'll like this one too. Personally I'm happy the way Big Dave is writing nowadays. He keeps producing solid, good heroic entertainment. He may have never been on the forefront of literature (*guffaw*), nor has he written anything that would transcend fantastic literature, but as a purveyor of fine, exciting fantasy he has and stays as a brand you can trust. It's a guilty pleasure I'm happy to keep on indulging.

Midori Snyder's The Flight of Michael McBride was almost as good as the beginning of it had me believing. It's not a classic, nor a minor masterpiece (I may have been expecting) but nevertheless it was a good effort. I liked especially the way she kept introducing details and fantasy elements to the story, without making a great deal out of them or using a hammer with the expositions. The timeperiod sounded right and the combination of Western (as in "Go West, young man!"), coming of age and Celtic fantasy were done more than admirably. It is a good little (short in lenght, that is) fantasy, that is hearthily recommended.

I finished recently a rather long article for Tähtivaeltaja magazine about modern phantasy. I tried to convey my personal - and thus, rather subjective - opinion about the state of Good fantasy (as I see it). I talk about Next Wave or Next Waves, cross genre and interstitial, New Weird (Uuskumma would be my suggestion for the translation, but I'm thinking Toni used Uusi Outo?) and so on. I've been reading quite a few new books recently, not all of them shown here in "Jukka is Reading" -section and thus I'm not really going to talk about most of them. Lets just say that there are LOTS of good fantasy books out there, many by small publishing houses and using both tropes from traditional fantasy as well as tropes from all kinds of different literary genres and inventing new ones (if possible). I've talked maybe too much about China Miéville already in various places, but he is not the only writer who ought to be mentioned here.

Want to read good, new fantasy? Try Jeffrey Ford, Ian R. McLeod or K. J. Bishop. How about some Argentinian fantasy? Like Angélica Gorodischer. Look for Steph Swainston, she promises to be the Next Big Thang. Andy Duncan, Kelly Link, Ray Vukcevich...

Sari doesn't like short stories, that we know. I'm not that much against them, even though I can readily admit that I don't read them all that much, but I do enjoy a good story - whatever the lenght. Often one hears that fantasy cannot be written as short stories. That's bull, what cannot be written as short are the meandering phat phantasy tales that rely on character developments (*hah!*) and complicated plots. Short story fantasies have as good a chance of succeeding as any other kind. Like is well demostrated with the wonderful (if flawed) collection by Peter Straub. Conjuctions 39: The New Wave Fabulists is a great collection of short stories by some very fine writers of fantastic fiction (Neil Gaiman, Gene Wolfe, John Crowley, Nalo Hopkinson, M. John Harrison, Karen Joy Fowler, Kelly Link, Jonathan Carroll et al). The stories explore the idea of fantastic pretty broadly, some of the stories have little (or actually no) fantastical elements in them, and somehow this left me a bit sad. Was this really the picture we, as fantasy aficionados want the more established literary folks to see? Fantasy is good literature, but only if it loses the basic secondary world premiss, gets rid of swords and dragons and barbarians? As much as I love some of these stories, my joy is lessened by the fact that to me this collection did seem to as a tad too "high-brow". Then again, I did say and think that your basic Tolkclone-stories aren't material for short stories. At least usually.

I still haven't quite finished with John Baxter's a pound of paper, but I'm still going to call it the best factual book I've read in years. It's intelligent, funny and speaks to me of things I love (fandom, book collecting) and cherish. It's available as a paperback, so go and buy it. And when reading it, think about it as something Boris Hurtta could have written about the subject. It's that good.

In short:

Howard Waldrop's Them Bones (in Finnish: Vain vanhat luut). Better than I even remembered, if a bit dated (there is a World War Three in 2002), but still a very inspired time travel story. And here I'm going to exclaim: a minor masterpiece!

Barrington J. Bayley's Zen Gun (Zenase). Pretty much as good as I remember, even if it felt a little old-fashined at some points. Could be something to with the translation too, I suppose.

Pulpografia by Juri Nummelin. Anything you ever really wanted to know about pulp authors translated into Finnish. Good short, interesting introductions and reviews of dozens of writers and hundreds of novels and stories.