Thursday, May 28, 2015

Beanie Babies: Class of '99 and Class of '00




Today is graduation day for the current senior class at my old alma mater, Evergreen Park Community High School. I myself was Class of 2005, and I remember the occasion as bittersweet, as all fond goodbyes are.

Still, I figured that now's as good a time as any to give a shout-out to the classes of 1999 and 2000 with these two Beanie Babies, which I picked up at our annual "Memories to Go Village Garage Sale."

This ugly-cute duo represents the last class of the old century and the first class of the new century. In that way, they're perfect bookends. Also, their coloring is noteworthy: Class of '99 is a funereal dark gray, as if closing out the century with a knowing, slightly grim smile. Class of '00, on the other hand, is a vibrant light brown, like a sunrise that's full of possibilities.

One final observation: Class of '99's mortarboard shows off its year in a stately Brush Script MT Bold, whereas Class of '00 gets stuck with...Comic Sans MS. Points off for a new millennium.

Wednesday, May 20, 2015

"Doctor Who and the Curse of Fatal Death"





Today is May 21st, 2015, and later on this evening, the UK charity Comic Relief will make its debut in America as NBC hosts the first "Red Nose Day."

Comic Relief began on Christmas Day in 1985, as a response to musician Bob Geldof's hugely successful Live Aid charity concerts, which raised at least £150million for famine relief in Ethiopia1 . Since then, Comic Relief has raised millions through its Red Nose Day and Sport Relief events.

Ever since that first telethon, Red Nose Day has displayed top talent year after year in sketches which lovingly poke fun at British TV shows, movies, and celebrity gossip. One of the better Red Nose Day sketches was 1999's entry, Doctor Who and the Curse of Fatal Death, which starred Jonathan Pryce as The Master; Julia Sawalha as Emma, the Doctor's companion; Roy Skelton as the voice of the Daleks; and (takes a deep breath) Rowan Atkinson; Richard E. Grant; Jim Broadbent; Hugh Grant; and Joanna Lumley as the Doctor.

Curse aired in March of 1999, which means that it's technically a Millennium thing, but somehow I think there's a better way to look at it. I list it on my blog not as history, but as a guide to the future.

Here, for your viewing pleasure, is The Curse of Fatal Death, hosted by Comic Relief's official YouTube channel:



ANALYSIS

CAUTION: HIGH-LEVEL GEEKINESS AHEAD--BE YE WARNED

It had been barely three years since the 1996 TV Movie premiered. Thousands of fans had pinned their hopes onto it...but it was a false start. Doctor Who was simply not ready to come back full-time as a TV series, and this Comic Relief sketch looked like the best we'd ever get to new Who on TV.

As I said, though, it's a window into the future: Curse has quite a few things to its name. First off, it's The Mill's first special-effects project, and this little charity sketch led to The Mill doing most if not all of the new Doctor Who's special effects work from 2005 to about 2010 or so.

Second, it's present-day showrunner Steven Moffat's first professional writing credit for Doctor Who. He and his predecessor, Russell T. Davies, made their bones in writing for, creating, and producing shows that had next to nothing to do with Doctor Who, and in this way they perfected their craft and learned what makes for good TV in general. They got a good handle on narrative flow, dialogue, character arcs, and sustaining a 45-minute episode, all of which served to bring Who back with a bang in 2005.

Going back to 1999 for a moment, The Curse of Fatal Death is unusual as far as Doctor Who spoofs are concerned. Earlier parodies, such as those seen on The Victoria Wood Show and The Lenny Henry Show, used cheap jokes about the show's low budget, poor effects, and ludicrous dialogue, and they were mostly predicated around "Oh, God, isn't this just the stupidest thing you've ever seen?!" As a result, those earlier attempts had a nasty, mean-spirited edge.

Curse's parody, on the other hand, is much more affectionate. It's constructed as a Doctor Who story first and foremost, but it's a story that happens to be full of jokes. The whole cast works together to give the story a weight that normal spoofs wouldn't have. (It's a little bit like Airplane! in that the actors are all absolutely serious, but everything around them is absurd.)

The same goes for the sketch's impressive production values. The sets, filmed on Pinewood Studios' 007 stage, are as solid as anything you'd see on the current run of Who. (Interesting side note: The TARDIS Console Room set and the Dalek props derive from a fan-film called Devious, notable for being Jon Pertwee's final filmed performance as the Third Doctor. BBC Video saw fit to include parts of Devious onto the DVD release of "The War Games" many years later.)

There's more here than just the story's affection to the classic series, though. In many ways, Curse eerily foreshadows things that would happen in the revived series. Right off the bat, we're faced with the Doctor wanting to settle down and get married. Within the context of the Classic Series, this would have been controversial to say the least, but the New Series has done it with the Tenth Doctor and Rose's love-story, which did not have a happy ending.

Next up is the "Spikes of Doom" sequence, which involves death-traps and multilayered time-travel gambits. While it's played for eye-rolling laughs here, complex time-based stories would later appear in the episode "Blink" and throughout River Song's story arc, which was a love story told out of sequence. (In her first story, she died, but not before leaving enough room for adventures that we would see in the future, but which had already happened from her perspective.)

Third, in the sketch's funniest set-piece, the Doctor burns through his remaining lives even faster than he normally would. Rowan (Mr. Bean) Atkinson plays the Ninth Doctor; Richard E. Grant, the Tenth; Jim Broadbent, the Eleventh; and Hugh Grant, the Twelfth. And then the Twelfth Doctor dies, but comes back as Joanna Lumley, who then falls for the Master!!

The first thing we're looking at is the idea of the Doctor breaking the "thirteen regenerations limit," which was introduced fairly late in the classic run, but became part of the accepted ruleset all the same. THIS HAS HAPPENED FOR REAL in the 2013 Christmas special, "The Time of the Doctor."
The second thing we're looking at is the idea of the Doctor coming back as a woman, which was reused as the Master coming back as "Missy" in Series 8 (short for "Mistress").
===============================================================
Forward-thinking aside, I have to put Curse back into its context. At the time, Doctor Who was all but dead and buried as a pop-culture institution. At best, it was a fondly-remembered piece of nostalgia from more innocent days; at worst, it was the prime example of just how much better TV is today, and how hokey it was back then.

That a Comic Relief sketch was seen as "the best we're ever going to get to new Doctor Who" demonstrates just how far a once-revered institution had fallen by 1999. Certainly, the BBC novels, Doctor Who Magazine, and several specials on Blue Peter kept it going, but it just wasn't enough. Those six years, from 1999 to 2005, were a long and lonely vigil...

I suppose I could say that, just as 1999 bridged the gap between one millennium to the next, this little sketch bridges the gap between two eras of a series that I have loved and held on to for nineteen years...twenty next May. It's slightly alarming how fast time can go by...




1. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Live_Aid#Raising_money

Sunday, May 17, 2015

The Life Millennium, part 5



Here we come to a milestone: the halfway point in the Life Millennium series!

Before we move ahead any further, I should pause and point out why I'm covering each development in detail rather than just doing a simple list.

The simplest way to put a ranking like this together would have been to organize them chronologically, but the biggest problem with chronological order is that it implies an endpoint (or, more cynically, that the world and its people are on a downward slide). Another problem with this method is that it's just too broad: many things could have happened in a given year or decade, but nothing in the next year or decade!

Ranking the top one hundred developments from minor-impact to major-impact forces a historian to use his or her imagination and state a more convincing case as to why they are listing one thing but not another. Also, it implies that a story is unfolding across several different cultures, which gets you out of the Western world of development and into a much broader perspective.

The idea of a story unfolding is something I will get to once I review that other Millennium book, which is much more in-depth than this volume and contains some very surprising things.

Anyway....

59. "The First Newspaper, 1609."

Ah, the newspaper: Once a staple of Sunday morning, it has largely gone the way of digital media.

Digital or otherwise, the newspaper's story begins in Strassburg, Germany, where the Relation was first published in 1609. Its first headline read, "Signor Gallileo [sic]...found a rule and visual measure, by which one can...look at places 30 miles away, as if they were close by." (The description sounds like a telescope.)

I say "headline," but the Relation, which was printed on the earliest presses (this will come up much later), didn't have them. In fact, it didn't have advertisements or illustrations, for that matter. Really, it didn't look anything like what we think of when we see the word "newspaper." That would develop in fits and starts throughout the 18th and 19th centuries, and wouldn't reach its final form until 1833, when the "penny press" could print massive amounts of papers. Still, everything had to have started somewhere.

58. "Rubber Baron, 1839."
In 1839, Charles Goodyear developed vulcanized rubber. Before his "vulcanization" process, natural rubber was a really unreliable material: It hardened in the winter and practically melted into a sticky goop in the summer. Anything made of rubber simply did not hold its shape!

You see the Goodyear name on tires everywhere, but the brand's namesake repeatedly drove himself into debt in his quest for a more stable form of rubber: "While in debtor's prison, he began combining raw rubber with everything from witch hazel to cream cheese...He accidentally spilled a drop of rubber mixed with sulfur on his hot stove."

From vulcanized rubber comes the boom of the car industry (rubber tires), and from that comes...well, most of modern life, really. What to do with all those old tires, though...?

57. "A Woman's Choice, 1914."
Margaret Sanger, the founder of Planned Parenthood, published in 1914 a pamphlet called The Woman Rebel, which marked the beginning of the birth-control movement. Obviously, it wasn't exactly greeted with open arms at the time: The pamphlet ended up hitting her with an obscenity charge--brought upon her by male judges--and she left America for Europe for two years, but came back more determined than ever to make a serious impact.

Sanger opened up a birth-control clinic in Brooklyn, but within nine days the police raided it.

Then, in 1923, she set up the Birth Control Clinical Research Bureau, "the first doctor-staffed birth control clinic in the United States, where diaphragms and advice were dispensed."

She died in 1966, but her work lives on: Dr. Gregory Pincus dedicated his research, which led to the contraceptive Pill, to Sanger's legacy.

56. "The First Restaurant, 1120."
Taking us out of the real world, just for context...You know how, in The Lord of the Rings and other fantasy works, the heroes stop at an inn to rest for a night and convene in secret, where their enemies weren't looking? Those places had some basis in real life, but they also offered a place to bed down for a night, and I would put those in the "lodging" category first. The first actual restaurant, without an inn attached, can be traced back to 12th-century China. "The journal of 12th century Chinese bureaucrat Meng Yuanlao--arguably the first restaurant reviewer--offers a meticulous account of an emerging restaurant culture in Kaifeng, the capital during the Northern Song dynasty (960-1126)."

Besides offering good food, the restaurant served as a place where people could gather in a setting that was on one hand much more formal than the "inn" setting I mentioned, and on the other still fairly casual.

55. "Childhood Found, 1633."
Three centuries before Dr. Benjamin Spock published Baby and Child Care, a Moravian bishop named Johan Amos Comenius published The School of Infancy.

For context: In 1633, much of Europe was in the middle of the Thirty Years' War. I won't go into too much detail about it, but it devastated most of the continent. Besides the casualties of battle, famine and disease made life a short, miserable affair. "...Children worked hard and died young. But Comenius was a utopian who believed the pathway to an earthly Eden was education. If children were not loved, [and] not educated early and well, their souls could be lost."

Most of Comenius' writings were lost and forgotten when he died, but he planted a seed all the same. Much later, Jean-Jacques Rousseau echoed Comenius' sentiments, as did "Swiss reformer Johann Heinrich Pestalozzi," who opened "the first infants' school."

I myself remember reading somewhere that the drive for compulsory education in England and in America came about when reformers saw children who worked in factories, and were unnerved at how they had already adopted all the bad traits of their adult counterparts...especially the jaded, "I-don't-care-anymore" attitude. Remember that, in the early days of the Industrial Revolution, factory employees worked long hours in conditions that would either 1) gruesomely injure them; 2) kill them fast; or 3) kill them long-term from breathing in soot and other chemicals. That's bad enough for an adult, but imagine a child of nine or ten working in this way. Worse yet, imagine that they've made a new friend or two at work...and then had to watch their new friend get pulled into the machine, never to come out.

If there's one thing a child should never have to experience, it's that kind of indifferent despair. There's plenty of time for that in adulthood.

54. "Tobacco Catches Fire, 1535."
From the diary of French Explorer Jacques Cartier, who traveled among the Iroquois Indians in the early parts of the 16th Century: "When we tried to use the smoke, we found it bit our tongues like pepper." I can only assume that they had offered him a peace-pipe, but, in any case, Cartier described his first encounter with tobacco, which he took back to Europe with him. Initially, it was sold as a "cure-all" for various ailments, but it really found a foothold when it became the Jamestown settlement's first major cash crop. And then, mass-produced, pre-rolled cigarettes were introduced in the 1800s, and tobacco became a major industry.

Now, on the other hand, we're starting to shy away from cigarettes. The risks of cancer and emphysema are so well-known that to even start smoking is all but pointless!

53. "The Coolest Invention, 1834."
A long, long, long time ago, the human race developed agriculture. In this way, the first farms came into being, and successful farms made their owners wealthy enough that they could hire people to work the land for them. Those first homesteaders now had enough spare time to say to themselves, "Remember how dreadful it was to work in that summer heat? Now that we've got it made, why don't we try keeping ourselves cool when it gets too hot?"

Rich people imported snow and ice, and packed it tightly between the walls of their homes. It worked well enough for centuries, but, when snow and ice melt, restoring them from a liquid back into a solid is next to impossible.

Or at least it was until 1834, when an inventor named Jacob Perkins built and patented an early refrigerator. His invention used compressed liquid ether, which produced a cooling effect when evaporated; the ether was then re-condensed back into a liquid. Seventeen years later, his invention saw its first commercial use at an Australian brewery, and shortly after that, major shipping companies began to refrigerate, especially if their cargo could easily spoil.

"In 1902, Willis Carrier installed the first air conditioner in a Brooklyn printing plant--it not only cooled but also controlled humidity--and before long his machines were showing up in department stores and movie theaters. The first safe and quiet kitchen refrigerators appeared in the early 1930s. Fewer than 1 percent of the homes in America are now without one, and most contain frozen foods--thanks to a process developed in 1925 by Clarence Birdseye--another marvel of the Cool Age."

"52. Tick, Tock, 1656."
In 1656, a Dutch astronomer named Christiaan Huygens invented the pendulum clock. Before Huygens, we relied first on sundials and water clocks, and then on mechanical deadweight-clocks. All of these were good enough for their time, but even the best mechanical clock regularly lost track of time.

Huygens' clock was the most precise timepiece of its day, and it saw widespread use in just about all quarters. Chemists and physicists could now keep better records for their experiment logs; shopkeepers could keep fixed hours; and workers could keep track of how long they worked.

"51. Liberty for All, 1865."
In 1865, the Civil War came to an end after four years of bloody combat. Millions of slaves found themselves liberated, and the South's plantation economy crumbled.

With that said, the end of the war was just the end of the fighting. The major turning point happened on New Year's Day, 1863, when Abraham Lincoln signed the Emancipation Proclamation. (I very nearly said "delivered the Emancipation Proclamation," but that would have been confusing it with the Gettysburg Address.)

...So, you may ask, how did the Proclamation ensure a Union victory at the end of the war?

I'll tell you: It changed the premise of the war from a political imperative (rebuild the union) to a moral imperative (end slavery as a legitimate economic practice). As far as morale goes, restoring the Union is good for the first few rousing speeches, but it's an abstract goal, and the realities of war--the carnage, the death, the disease--conspire to dull an already fairly-weak mission statement.

"End slavery," on the other hand, is a moral goal. "For the nation's 3.5 million slaves, for its abolitionists and for some of its politicians, the crucible of civil war would allow the U.S. to live up to its best traditions, expressed in the Declaration of Independence, as a land of liberty and equality for all."

"50. A University Education, 1088."
In 1088, a group of law students from Bologna, Italy, founded the first university. They collected and researched Roman law, and then drew their own conclusions about how to apply it to the present day. It might not seem like much now, but their work built the legal foundations of European society.

Not only that, but those same scholars established the university as protected ground: "When Bolognese landlords threatened to raise scholars' rents, student protests led Emperor Frederick Barbarossa to award them protection from exploitation in 1158."

"Students also made professors sign contracts to deliver lectures on particular subjects--and promise to remain at the school until the end of the term. Soon professors needed a license to teach (the earliest academic degree), and a real university took shape."

Not bad for the 11th Century, huh?