Ratafooey: what’s in a name?
Tuesday, November 13, 2007
I’ll need a bit of convincing before I shell out for Pixar’s latest effort.
It’s not that I’m scarred by my mother’s habit of making ratatouille as a vehicle for
mouldering veg. And I’ve nothing against cartoons: Aladdin remains a revelation,
Stewie Griffin is my hero and one of Tenacious D’s music videos is responsible for
my second-most serious intercostal injury.
No, what irked me about Ratatouille was the poster. The moment I saw it – on the
District & Circle (eastbound), since you ask – the following thoughts flickered half-
heartedly across that Standby portion of my brain that I employ while doing battle
with London’s transport network:
a) What a bloody miracle that they’ve given the film that title: no 21st-century child
knows what ratatouille is, let alone eats the stuff. What a glowing reflection on
Pixar, and their faith in the intelligence of the movie-goer!
b) This is good: in reality it probably means the film’s actually aimed at adults, and
will make for an amusing lazy afternoon (just as soon as I can get back to Asia and
pick up a copy for a quid).
c) Oh, look, they’ve spelled it out for the dunces – ‘Rat-a-too-ee’. And now I’m kind
of wondering if that’s just for the benefit of the kids.
The phonetic rendering isn’t just so you get the ‘rat’ joke, either (the Portuguese
poster has ‘ra-ta-tui’); it’s flatly a matter of telling you how to pronounce the word.
My guess is that having come up with their Franco-culinary title (and then written
half the script, to suit), Pixar found themselves in a pickle, and thence got
themselves into a jam, and whereafter worked themselves into a stew, and – you
get the idea – couldn’t back out. So they appended the baby-talk, so that the
majority of the potential audience would still know what the film was about.
Naming a kids’ movie after a dish that few of them have eaten and fewer can
pronounce is a dumb idea. And while my learned colleague will argue that this film
wasn’t aimed at the McWorlders, it’s still being released into a tributary of that
stream, teeming with cultural non-swimmers who think all food stuffs are spelled
‘Mc-xn’.
McSpelt, for example, if you’re a country kind of rat.
A S H Smyth
Tuesday, November 13, 2007
I’ll need a bit of convincing before I shell out for Pixar’s latest effort.
It’s not that I’m scarred by my mother’s habit of making ratatouille as a vehicle for
mouldering veg. And I’ve nothing against cartoons: Aladdin remains a revelation,
Stewie Griffin is my hero and one of Tenacious D’s music videos is responsible for
my second-most serious intercostal injury.
No, what irked me about Ratatouille was the poster. The moment I saw it – on the
District & Circle (eastbound), since you ask – the following thoughts flickered half-
heartedly across that Standby portion of my brain that I employ while doing battle
with London’s transport network:
a) What a bloody miracle that they’ve given the film that title: no 21st-century child
knows what ratatouille is, let alone eats the stuff. What a glowing reflection on
Pixar, and their faith in the intelligence of the movie-goer!
b) This is good: in reality it probably means the film’s actually aimed at adults, and
will make for an amusing lazy afternoon (just as soon as I can get back to Asia and
pick up a copy for a quid).
c) Oh, look, they’ve spelled it out for the dunces – ‘Rat-a-too-ee’. And now I’m kind
of wondering if that’s just for the benefit of the kids.
The phonetic rendering isn’t just so you get the ‘rat’ joke, either (the Portuguese
poster has ‘ra-ta-tui’); it’s flatly a matter of telling you how to pronounce the word.
My guess is that having come up with their Franco-culinary title (and then written
half the script, to suit), Pixar found themselves in a pickle, and thence got
themselves into a jam, and whereafter worked themselves into a stew, and – you
get the idea – couldn’t back out. So they appended the baby-talk, so that the
majority of the potential audience would still know what the film was about.
Naming a kids’ movie after a dish that few of them have eaten and fewer can
pronounce is a dumb idea. And while my learned colleague will argue that this film
wasn’t aimed at the McWorlders, it’s still being released into a tributary of that
stream, teeming with cultural non-swimmers who think all food stuffs are spelled
‘Mc-xn’.
McSpelt, for example, if you’re a country kind of rat.
A S H Smyth
_________________________________________
November 2007
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Ten writers I’d like to punch
Wednesday, November 14, 2007
As my esteemed colleague has pointed out, clocking a famous literary type in the
mush might be a smart way to give yourself a wee boost; but there are, of course,
other reasons why you might want to give a well-known word-smith a smack in the
kisser.* So here are ten writers – on whichever side of the grave – The Lizard feels
deserve a swift one to the chops.
Charles DICKENS – For convincing generations of writers that being poor is noble.
There’s nothing noble about being able to play tunes on your ribs.
Oscar WILDE – Curiosity: how witty can you be with no front teeth?
John Paul II – For being subjected to posthumous Vaticanimation and for his feeble
impressions of Charlton Heston.
Martin AMIS – Yellow Dog.
Any FOOTBALLER – Because some of us write all day, and earn bugger all.
Mohandas K GANDHI – Just to see if he'd hit back.
Ernest HEMINGWAY – Because you KNOW he'd hit back, and Real Men down the
pub would be impressed by your brawling anecdote.
Arthur RIMBAUD – For retiring at 19.
Alistair CAMPBELL – For penning the most useless doorstop since Belgian Military
Strategies.
Germaine GREER – We’d let her off with an open-hand slap (contra HEMINGWAY) if
we didn’t think her supporters would say that was patronising the little woman.
* not to be confused with a kiss on the smacker, which is what you give the Pope
(the living one, not John Paul II, you sicko).
A S H Smyth
Wednesday, November 14, 2007
As my esteemed colleague has pointed out, clocking a famous literary type in the
mush might be a smart way to give yourself a wee boost; but there are, of course,
other reasons why you might want to give a well-known word-smith a smack in the
kisser.* So here are ten writers – on whichever side of the grave – The Lizard feels
deserve a swift one to the chops.
Charles DICKENS – For convincing generations of writers that being poor is noble.
There’s nothing noble about being able to play tunes on your ribs.
Oscar WILDE – Curiosity: how witty can you be with no front teeth?
John Paul II – For being subjected to posthumous Vaticanimation and for his feeble
impressions of Charlton Heston.
Martin AMIS – Yellow Dog.
Any FOOTBALLER – Because some of us write all day, and earn bugger all.
Mohandas K GANDHI – Just to see if he'd hit back.
Ernest HEMINGWAY – Because you KNOW he'd hit back, and Real Men down the
pub would be impressed by your brawling anecdote.
Arthur RIMBAUD – For retiring at 19.
Alistair CAMPBELL – For penning the most useless doorstop since Belgian Military
Strategies.
Germaine GREER – We’d let her off with an open-hand slap (contra HEMINGWAY) if
we didn’t think her supporters would say that was patronising the little woman.
* not to be confused with a kiss on the smacker, which is what you give the Pope
(the living one, not John Paul II, you sicko).
A S H Smyth
_________________________________________
I’ve read Robert Steers and I’m digging to Australia
Wednesday, November 14, 2007
They may force you to vote and make lager that tastes like someone already pissed
it out, but I want to live in a country that values drinking as a major life skill.
Yesterday, Britain’s paper of record ran an article reporting that ‘a group of doctors,
lawyers, philosophers and other experts’ wanted unprecedented ‘stewardship’ over
the lives of the ordinary adult, non-expert citizens who they appear to regard as
sweet but ill-disciplined children.
Nice word, ‘stewardship’. Sounds like a post at some old English sporting event.
Possibly it comes with a blazer. But if it does, the blazer is back.
These self-declared wiseheads want the right to ban you from smoking in your own
home. They think the government should guide our booze choices with punitive
taxes, creating an artificial poverty, since we can’t be trusted to be rich. That’s not
kind; it’s totalitarian.
I know what an Australian man would do if you tried to sell him that load of half-
cooked dingo’s kidneys – he’d call you a bounce and kick you in the donger.
Pass me a spade and a crowbar. I’m emigrating through the living room floor.
Marc Sidwell
Wednesday, November 14, 2007
They may force you to vote and make lager that tastes like someone already pissed
it out, but I want to live in a country that values drinking as a major life skill.
Yesterday, Britain’s paper of record ran an article reporting that ‘a group of doctors,
lawyers, philosophers and other experts’ wanted unprecedented ‘stewardship’ over
the lives of the ordinary adult, non-expert citizens who they appear to regard as
sweet but ill-disciplined children.
Nice word, ‘stewardship’. Sounds like a post at some old English sporting event.
Possibly it comes with a blazer. But if it does, the blazer is back.
These self-declared wiseheads want the right to ban you from smoking in your own
home. They think the government should guide our booze choices with punitive
taxes, creating an artificial poverty, since we can’t be trusted to be rich. That’s not
kind; it’s totalitarian.
I know what an Australian man would do if you tried to sell him that load of half-
cooked dingo’s kidneys – he’d call you a bounce and kick you in the donger.
Pass me a spade and a crowbar. I’m emigrating through the living room floor.
Marc Sidwell
How long does it take a government minister to change
his mind?
Thursday, November 15, 2007
his mind?
Thursday, November 15, 2007
Answer: 0.6 miles:
At 8am yesterday morning, Gordon Brown’s anti-terrorism minister, Admiral the
Lord West of Spithead, told Radio 4’s Today programme that he was not yet ‘fully
convinced’ of the need to extend the current 28-day limit on detaining terrorism
suspects without charge.
‘I want to have absolute evidence that we actually need longer than 28 days… I
want to be totally convinced because I am not going to go and push for something
that actually affects the liberty of the individual unless there is a real necessity for
it.’
Lord West went further, saying that he has seen nothing to persuade him even in
the classified intelligence documents to which he has access.
But just an hour later, the Admiral emerged from 10 Downing St, and resolutely
told the press, ‘I personally absolutely believe that within the next two to three
years, we will require more than that for one of these complex plots. So I am
convinced that’s the case…’
0.6 miles, it seems, is a long time in politics.
Marc Sidwell and A S H Smyth
Lord West of Spithead, told Radio 4’s Today programme that he was not yet ‘fully
convinced’ of the need to extend the current 28-day limit on detaining terrorism
suspects without charge.
‘I want to have absolute evidence that we actually need longer than 28 days… I
want to be totally convinced because I am not going to go and push for something
that actually affects the liberty of the individual unless there is a real necessity for
it.’
Lord West went further, saying that he has seen nothing to persuade him even in
the classified intelligence documents to which he has access.
But just an hour later, the Admiral emerged from 10 Downing St, and resolutely
told the press, ‘I personally absolutely believe that within the next two to three
years, we will require more than that for one of these complex plots. So I am
convinced that’s the case…’
0.6 miles, it seems, is a long time in politics.
Marc Sidwell and A S H Smyth
_________________________________________
Medical Research: Dr. Alan Statham’s Top 10 Favourite
Words
Friday, November 16, 2007
There’s been a lot of useless research carried out lately, in the name of science,
and we at The Lizard have quite frankly been getting sick of it. So, in the interest
of really furthering the sum of human knowledge, I went through two series of
Green Wing, plus one Christmas special, and compiled a list of the legendary Dr.
Alan Statham’s most commonly-used words and phrases:
Which I think you’ll find says it all, really.
Members of the GMC interested in finding out more about my research in Dr.
Statham’s vocab can contact me at ash@lizardmagazine.com.
A S H Smyth
Words
Friday, November 16, 2007
There’s been a lot of useless research carried out lately, in the name of science,
and we at The Lizard have quite frankly been getting sick of it. So, in the interest
of really furthering the sum of human knowledge, I went through two series of
Green Wing, plus one Christmas special, and compiled a list of the legendary Dr.
Alan Statham’s most commonly-used words and phrases:
- bloody bloody bloody bloody… bloody…
- bastard(s)
- Dr. Alan Statham, Consultant Rrradiologist
- my sexy darling
- Boyce!
- I-i-i-i-i-i-i-i-i-i-i-i-i-i-i-i
- heron/dwarf
- online caption competition
- Oh my fucksey!
- the
Which I think you’ll find says it all, really.
Members of the GMC interested in finding out more about my research in Dr.
Statham’s vocab can contact me at ash@lizardmagazine.com.
A S H Smyth
_________________________________________
Nuclear Submarines and My Computer
Friday, November 16, 2007
Not to lose my mind entirely, but my paranoia about computers planning to kill us
all has just reached a new, terrifying level.
Just take a butcher's at this recruitment ad for the Royal Navy:
Friday, November 16, 2007
Not to lose my mind entirely, but my paranoia about computers planning to kill us
all has just reached a new, terrifying level.
Just take a butcher's at this recruitment ad for the Royal Navy:
Now, correct me if I'm wrong, but that dude just flicked the switch on a nuclear
sub, didn't he? This is not good. If our Navy engineers are using the same "Oh,
screw it, I'll just turn it off at the wall" approach that gets us average home
computer operators through each hourly malfunction, it is surely only a matter of
time before the world is melted into oblivion by a giant nuclear explosion. After all,
I hate to point out the obvious, but the big difference between my computer and
the computers on that submarine is that my machine IS NOT HOOKED UP TO
NUCLEAR MISSILES!
At least, not that I know of...
Dominic Hilton
sub, didn't he? This is not good. If our Navy engineers are using the same "Oh,
screw it, I'll just turn it off at the wall" approach that gets us average home
computer operators through each hourly malfunction, it is surely only a matter of
time before the world is melted into oblivion by a giant nuclear explosion. After all,
I hate to point out the obvious, but the big difference between my computer and
the computers on that submarine is that my machine IS NOT HOOKED UP TO
NUCLEAR MISSILES!
At least, not that I know of...
Dominic Hilton
_________________________________________
_________________________________________
Those who know me will be aware I've been after my green card for a while, often
for reasons connected to pursuing pretty Texan girls.
But that was just love; this is passion: getting that green card has now become a
serious mission. Because the greatest invention ever is only available in America:
the Amazon Kindle.
Basically, they've taken three technologies: super-capacity electronic information
storage; super-duper cellphone connectivity; and super-mega-awesome-quality
electronic paper, and made a paperback-weight product that holds 200 books
(unexpanded), viewable (and markable) on a screen you can read without melting
your eyeballs and a handset that can access 90,000 books (and eventually the
entire Amazon range) at the click of a button from anywhere, no wifi hotspot
required. Plus [plus!] a Blackberry-like feature that automatically pushes your daily
newspaper and magazine subscriptions (The Lizard on kindle: coming soon!) plus
favourite blogs to the handset as soon as they are published. Paperboys will no
doubt shortly go on a destructive Luddite spree across the southern states; but
they'll just be fighting the inevitable.
Oh, some of the techies don't get it yet and say paying a monthly fee for blogs is
too much. They are idiots: it's not the content you're paying for, but the
convenience of having it pushed to your handset. Anyway, it is $2.
This is what convinces me it will work. Amazon have calculated that people will
enjoy the convenience of the device and that they can afford regular small fees
(especially since it's cheaper than the paperboy's Christmas box and you avoid the
monthly price plan confusion of cellphones) -- all they need to get over to succeed
is the reluctance to feel like you're paying out every time. So they just have to let
the payments happen in practice with the user barely noticing. That has been one
of Amazon's great strengths on their standard site (One-click ordering, anyone?)
and my bet is they'll succeed again here. They are talking up the kindle's quality
that when you read it for 5 minutes, the device "disappears" and you just focus
on what you're reading. I reckon these (very low, especially by comparison to
Sony's Reader) price plans will also disappear in practice. And 9 bucks for a new
bestseller is still bargainous.
BUT
(and it's a big but)
The bloody thing only works on an American cell-network: EVDO.
The fiends. They invent a thing almost perfectly designed for people living far from
the action and then limit it to those lucky enough to already live in the land of
freely available bacon salt. Think what this gizmo would mean to people worldwide
without easy access to hard copies of the New York Times or this hour's update
from gizmodo or the latest Tom Clancy doorstop. It would almost be like living in
America (admittedly without the pretty Texan girls).
Which makes me think it won't be too long before they find a way of rolling it out
over 3G or some other network in Europe -- and beyond. Cellphone networks are
booming in the third world like nowhere else. Forget the hundred dollar laptop;
imagine if every African school could have a library of two hundred books the size
of the Kindle.
Kindle: the iPod for books. I want one for Christmas. But as I say, right now I also
need a green card to go with it. Pretty/desperate expats looking to trade the best
years of their life for the chance to improve my reading experience should apply to
The Lizard.
Marc Sidwell
for reasons connected to pursuing pretty Texan girls.
But that was just love; this is passion: getting that green card has now become a
serious mission. Because the greatest invention ever is only available in America:
the Amazon Kindle.
Basically, they've taken three technologies: super-capacity electronic information
storage; super-duper cellphone connectivity; and super-mega-awesome-quality
electronic paper, and made a paperback-weight product that holds 200 books
(unexpanded), viewable (and markable) on a screen you can read without melting
your eyeballs and a handset that can access 90,000 books (and eventually the
entire Amazon range) at the click of a button from anywhere, no wifi hotspot
required. Plus [plus!] a Blackberry-like feature that automatically pushes your daily
newspaper and magazine subscriptions (The Lizard on kindle: coming soon!) plus
favourite blogs to the handset as soon as they are published. Paperboys will no
doubt shortly go on a destructive Luddite spree across the southern states; but
they'll just be fighting the inevitable.
Oh, some of the techies don't get it yet and say paying a monthly fee for blogs is
too much. They are idiots: it's not the content you're paying for, but the
convenience of having it pushed to your handset. Anyway, it is $2.
This is what convinces me it will work. Amazon have calculated that people will
enjoy the convenience of the device and that they can afford regular small fees
(especially since it's cheaper than the paperboy's Christmas box and you avoid the
monthly price plan confusion of cellphones) -- all they need to get over to succeed
is the reluctance to feel like you're paying out every time. So they just have to let
the payments happen in practice with the user barely noticing. That has been one
of Amazon's great strengths on their standard site (One-click ordering, anyone?)
and my bet is they'll succeed again here. They are talking up the kindle's quality
that when you read it for 5 minutes, the device "disappears" and you just focus
on what you're reading. I reckon these (very low, especially by comparison to
Sony's Reader) price plans will also disappear in practice. And 9 bucks for a new
bestseller is still bargainous.
BUT
(and it's a big but)
The bloody thing only works on an American cell-network: EVDO.
The fiends. They invent a thing almost perfectly designed for people living far from
the action and then limit it to those lucky enough to already live in the land of
freely available bacon salt. Think what this gizmo would mean to people worldwide
without easy access to hard copies of the New York Times or this hour's update
from gizmodo or the latest Tom Clancy doorstop. It would almost be like living in
America (admittedly without the pretty Texan girls).
Which makes me think it won't be too long before they find a way of rolling it out
over 3G or some other network in Europe -- and beyond. Cellphone networks are
booming in the third world like nowhere else. Forget the hundred dollar laptop;
imagine if every African school could have a library of two hundred books the size
of the Kindle.
Kindle: the iPod for books. I want one for Christmas. But as I say, right now I also
need a green card to go with it. Pretty/desperate expats looking to trade the best
years of their life for the chance to improve my reading experience should apply to
The Lizard.
Marc Sidwell
The Amazon Kindle: Why I need a Green Card
Tuesday, November 20, 2007
Tuesday, November 20, 2007
Folk You Want to Avoid on the Train
Thursday, November 29, 2007
People who think being able to hear the music from your headphones is annoying,
but don’t think the same applies to their phone calls.
Anyone whose bottom lip sticks out further than it ought.
Anyone in a kagoul. They rustle (the kagouls), but – more importantly – the sort
of people who wear them tend to be full of an irritating joie de vivre. Quite what
they have to be so joyeuse about on a suburban train in rush-hour is anyone’s
guess.
Lisping, boss-eyed types who keep things tucked under their arms, even when
seated.
People who read free papers. Apart from the disagreeable intellectual implications,
these people are encouraging one of the worst plagues to be visited on man since
The Plague of the Botty Grapes.
Anyone reading The Sun, but pretending not to look at the naughty pictures.
Blondes. They don’t share your views on staring.
Anyone who does share your views on staring. Who know what they might want?!
The ticket collector.
You lawyer. He will be telling all the other commuters exactly what he thinks of
you, while conference-calling on his ChuckBerry. It could be embarrassing for all
concerned, Chuck especially.
A S H Smyth
Thursday, November 29, 2007
People who think being able to hear the music from your headphones is annoying,
but don’t think the same applies to their phone calls.
Anyone whose bottom lip sticks out further than it ought.
Anyone in a kagoul. They rustle (the kagouls), but – more importantly – the sort
of people who wear them tend to be full of an irritating joie de vivre. Quite what
they have to be so joyeuse about on a suburban train in rush-hour is anyone’s
guess.
Lisping, boss-eyed types who keep things tucked under their arms, even when
seated.
People who read free papers. Apart from the disagreeable intellectual implications,
these people are encouraging one of the worst plagues to be visited on man since
The Plague of the Botty Grapes.
Anyone reading The Sun, but pretending not to look at the naughty pictures.
Blondes. They don’t share your views on staring.
Anyone who does share your views on staring. Who know what they might want?!
The ticket collector.
You lawyer. He will be telling all the other commuters exactly what he thinks of
you, while conference-calling on his ChuckBerry. It could be embarrassing for all
concerned, Chuck especially.
A S H Smyth
_________________________________________