I have seen a bunch of films recently, the urge to write about them hit, so here we are. Mild spoilers to follow.
The Hitman’s Bodyguard The sort of film that Ryan Reynolds and Samuel L Jackson can do in their sleep. Surprising amounts of fun regardless.
The Hitman’s Wife’s Bodyguard More of the same in fancier locations, with the welcome addition of Salma Hayek and a glorious turn from Morgan Freeman.
The Expend4bles It’s not surprising that they’ve gotten worse the more films they’ve made. The first was a solid action film that coasted more on goodwill and the idea of a bunch of old farts kicking ass than anything, but it’s been a steady downhill since then. For a franchise that based itself around ageing action stars, it shed a lot of them between 3 and 4. This one’s half team film, half Jason Statham solo film, with Megan Fox’s uncannily smooth face, always salon perfect hair and S&M style tactical gear a lowlight. As for the ‘acting’, and I use that term loosely, she’s at least better than 50 Cent, who seems to have spent about that much on an acting coach. I’m not expecting a fifth in the series, but if they can make 5 Scorpion King films…
Thunderbolts* Just as the 1993 Three Musketeers is a scenery chewing contest between Tim Curry and Oliver Platt, this is a ‘who’s having more fun’ contest between David Harbour and Julia Louis-Dreyfus. I’m aware I’ve missed story beats from projects I’ve not seen, but there wasn’t any great moments of “WTF did I miss?” The story it’s trying to tell kind of works, but the bouncing between broad and bleak comedy wasn’t quite working for me, the sacrificial lamb character being bumped off very early and OH GODS I CAN’T KEEP UP WITH THIS SHIT ANYMORE. I maintain my belief that the MCU should have wound up after Avengers: Endgame, or at least taken a solid couple of years minimum break. It’s not that I’m against it, I’m just so very tired of it. Given recent creative decisions (All of Secret Invasion, the first female led film being after the character was dead, that they still can’t get a Blade script to screen, bringing back RDJ to play Doctor Doom, etc), it feels like the magic has gone, you know? At the very least, it was only about 2 hours long so it didn’t take up an excessive amount of my time.
Mission Impossible: The Final Reckoning It’s been long enough between drinks that I really should have re-watched Part 1 again beforehand. I’m somewhat glad it’s the final, as I’m not sure the stakes could be raised any higher. Intrigue, double crossing and whacky spy shenanigans abound, though some sequences did feel more than a bit padded. A couple of unexpected call backs had me bouncing with joy, whereas another development had me wondering where it was pulled from. Again, should have re-watched Part 1. But let’s face it, that isn’t why you go to see these films anymore, you go to see Tom Cruise doing absurdly dangerous stunts and more running in one film than a Doctor Who companion does in a lifetime. How no-one has put together a ‘My First Reader’ version of one of these films I’ll never know. “See Tom Run. Run Tom Run. Jump Tom Jump.” It practically writes itself.
Yes, it could be said that the stunts also a testament to his ego, so he could say “I did that!” or how an awful lot of situations end up as ‘Everyone looks to Cruise to solve the problem’, and that is an issue. Yes, there’s things he can’t do in universe (though not very many), and that has been an issue. Furthermore, despite the near 3 hour run time, there’s characters and revelations that deserved more focus, and there’s a fair whack of opening exposition to catch everyone up.. Really, I just want incredibly competent agents being made to frantically improvise when plans go wrong, and there was more ‘people in suits arguing in rooms’ for my taste in this one. It doesn’t hit the heights of 3 and Fallout, but it’s far above 2 in the scheme of things.
Yes, there have been other things in my life going on, but you’ll have to wait for me to write about them. Be seeing you…
Yes, yes, it’s been a while. Let’s face it, you aren’t reading this for regular updates. So, what’s the reason been this time? I’ll explain.
I have moved house, and into one I actually own! Before I go any further, I need to issue Herculean level thanks to all who’ve helped. No matter how little you think you’ve done, we have seen it and appreciate it. It has meant the world to us, and made an incredibly stressful time a lot less “Oh fuck, let’s just burn the house down and flee.” It’s a sign of the quality of the people in our lives the number of folks who’ve offered help, and our thanks and pizza (or indeed, the joy an almost teenager took throwing things in a skip) seems vastly inadequate for the help you’ve given us. We love you all.
The move itself was like an age of the Earth, or the credits to a Marvel film when you really need to pee but don’t want to miss the after credits part. I knew we had a lot of stuff, and there’s 2 flights of stairs to get to the new place, but I didn’t think it would take as long as it did. Let alone the stuff that went upstairs that should have gone to the garage. *sighs* The two days following were painful, to say the least. Every day is leg day. There hasn’t been any noise issues so far, outside of the shopping centre across the street’s fire alarm going off around 1am recently and while a nearby church’s singing was oddly soothing Sunday morning, the screaming and yelling style of worship they shifted to was disconcerting to say the least. As issues go, that ain’t bad though. Still, a large amount of stuff is on shelves, though that’s brought it’s own chaos. You see, we madly got stuff out of boxes, but with the deadline, there was no organisation. Well, outside of me getting precious and putting all my Robert E Howard on the one shelf. So, that’s the next task for me – and not getting distracted won’t be easy.
All that work though has meant we aren’t, for the most part, living out of boxes and that’s done wonders for me. Being able to see my stuff, even if the hell of moving has me more inclined to try to sell more of it, has made it feel more like ours. Funny what moving does to a book collection. We’re still talking through decoration, though my wife and I have planned to take one side of a corridor each and decorate according to our whims. She’s looking at theatre posters and pictures of her friends. I’m looking at a poster for the 1973 Three Musketeers, some Frank Frazetta art and concert posters. We match beautifully don’t we? If we really go all out, we might even colour code the walls before we hang art up…
In other news, I’m going back to the Ravenswood Institute LARP this year, but not as a student! I’d been kicking around an idea since last event and it seemed workable. I got in touch with the orgs to run it past them and see if I was on the right track and before I knew it, I’m an NPC crew member! IC details are still being sorted, so this is strictly an out of character announcement, but I’m really looking forward to it. Also means I get to fuss over new costume and props! There will be some hard work though, mostly vocal practice, as one of the ideas was having an enchanted whistle/blowing horn, the effect being “Shut up and pay attention to me!” Now, I own a blowing horn (Leaving me with money at medieval events is dangerous), but can’t exactly make much of a sound and as I live in an apartment building, I’d rather not torment my neighbours. So, the working plan is to find the nearest national park, walk a decent distance in away from people, put my lips together, and blow…
Lastly, I have survived another year, and we had people over to celebrate that! It was lovely to see people, get their feedback on the new place and feel loved that they responded to the dress code request, that being to please wear a cape/cloak. I probably should have expected the one cheeky sod who dressed as Edna Mode… We didn’t wind up playing many games or watching a movie, but I did get to show the classic Doctor Who serial The Time Warrior, and a HAI! time was had by all. I did just realise I didn’t put on the playlist I’d made, though given the number of people in the room that’s probably for the best. So, for those curious, here it is:
That’s it for now, I need to clean up and head to work. I hope you’re all having a wonderful day, for a Monday that is. Be seeing you…
As frequently, it’s been a while since I’ve written here. Working in retail during the Christmas season doesn’t leave much time and combine that with exhaustion from the heat (Stupid burning hell pit of a country) and a self diagnosed seasonal depression spike have meant I haven’t exactly been in a good frame of mind. I’ll spare you further ruminations and instead apologise to anyone who had the misfortune to interact with me when I’ve not been having a good day.
So, instead the good stuff! My wife and I bought an apartment, more on that later. I bought another LARP sword, though that was mostly to distract from the constant mind shattering terror of the orange one’s return. It’s felt really fucking weird the couple of times I’ve talked to customers in the store about Fair and Balanced, having to really labour the point that it was run in October 2016, when that shit was still funny. I was really looking forward to being able to look at the news without that creeping feeling of dread, that constant background noise of “Oh what the fuck has he done now?” I keep telling myself all I can do is be a good person, help where I can and not snitch. To worry about the things I can change, keep looking to hope and not doom scroll. Election day local time was particularly bad, as it was deathly quiet in the store, which left me time to, you guessed it, doom scroll. sigh
I got to see Hammerfall with my wife, and it was as ridiculous and glorious as I’d hoped for. For starters, neither of us had any hope we’d ever get the chance, but getting to see them was a real bucket list kind of night. For a band who’ve played massive Euro festivals, to see them at the Manning Bar may have seemed like a comedown, but the show was just as over the top, albeit with less pyro. Gods, I adore when bands do the co-ordinated headbanging, it’s so stupid I can’t help but love it. I can’t explain why, but it just makes me so happy. Outside of Hammerfall, I’ve been listening to a lot of versions of The Ecstasy of Gold. That’s mostly as A: it’s fucking brilliant and B: my wife mentioned putting a will together, and my brain (After mostly recovering from running screaming at the merest contemplation of my mortality) set to wanting to make a funeral playlist. I know there’ll be some John Williams and Iron Maiden, but I can’t decide if Brillig’s The Old Captain is the start or end song.
And yes, I am now a home owner. Since that, instances of friends calling me bourgeois scum and/or calling for my execution via madame guillotine have shot up alarmingly. This has meant, since we’re moving to a smaller space, that I’m having to pack and cull things. It’s been, emotional. One shelf has a pile of notebooks* (THEY STAY!) next to a pile of gaming books that I’ll be letting go. So, if there’s something of mine you’ve coveted, this could be your lucky day! The idea is to have some sort of giveaway or set up an “Give me a few bucks if you want, otherwise take it from my house!” event. RPG books, some bits of LARP kit and DVD’s will likely be the first up for the chop.
i got a free month of Amazon Prime and have been binging Vox Machina, which has been a joy. In news that will surprise no-one who knows me, Grog and Scanlan continue to be my favourites, and the character development they’ve gone through has been emotional and hilarious. Grog’s cry of “I GOT A BEARD!” brings joy, as does damn near every time Scanlan sings. Also, I get to continue my game of “I recognise that voice!” When that’s done, the plan is to shift over to the final season of Lower Decks. I’m really gonna miss that show.
Speaking of LARP, I was attempting to distract myself from the heat on Tuesday and had thoughts about a pirate based game again. Mostly pillaging from Hoist the Colours plot wise, the last survivors of a mighty pirate horde wash up on a lost island and have to figure out what to do next. That or, several ships wash up on the same island, but different locations. Each crew has something the other wants (Powder, map fragments, water, etc) and have to decide how to proceed. Shenanigans ensue. Yes, I started listening to Larps and Tarps coverage of Hoist again, but they bring joy and I need that right now.
It’s past 1am and I have plans to people tomorrow. Bedtime now. Take care of each other. Night all.
* I don’t have a notebook problem. There are notebooks I don’t own, so I’m fine.
Iron Maiden’s gonna get you, no matter how far! See the blood flow, watching it shed, from up above my head! Iron Maiden wants you, for dead!
Between the announcement of the Run For Your Lives 50th Anniversary tour and the recent death of former vocalist Paul Di’Anno, early Iron Maiden has been on the brain. Shocking, I know. it’s had me listening to those first two albums, and reminded me of just how different they are to the rest of Maiden’s catalogue. Combine that with speculation regarding the setlist for the upcoming tour, with the setlist ranging from their self titled debut to 1992’s Fear of the Dark. Maiden bassist Steve Harris hinted in the press release that there will be ‘songs they haven’t played in years and many we will likely never play again’, which isn’t shocking as the band is 5 years older than I am. This started giving me ideas, such as a ‘Worst of’ setlist*, or ‘Movies Steve Harris has watched recently’ or even a ‘1 song from every album’ set. 17 studio albums, 17 songs? So, that’s what I’m going to do!
Iron Maiden. (1980) The self titled debut, where it all began. The sound is rough, but the energy is there, from the short and sharp Prowler, to the glam rock stomp of Running Free or the epic Phantom of the Opera. However, it wouldn’t be a Maiden set without the song of the same name, right?
Killers. (1981) The difficult second album, this saw the arrival of guitarist Adrian Smith and producer Martin Birch, both key figures in the bands rise to glory. As for what track I’d play, it’s Wrathchild. That’s no disrespect to the likes of opening instrumental The Ides of March or the thundering title track, but that opening drum and bass of Wrathchild just fires my soul. It’s on my Maiden live bucket list, so I couldn’t not vote for it.
The Number of the Beast (1982) And here we see the departure of Di’Anno, the arrival of Bruce Dickinson and what is thought of as the band’s glory years. True, Invaders and Gangland are a bit naff, and Total Eclipse (No, not of the heart) would have worked far better, while 22 Acacia Avenue (A sequel to Charlotte the Harlot from their debut) hasn’t aged well. But how to choose one song? Hallowed be thy Name, a tale of a condemned man on his way to the gallows, that has been in my head every work performance review I’ve ever had. The Prisoner, based off the classic series? The title track, responsible for my love of the band in the first place? Sorry, no. It’s got to be Run to the Hills. The joy it brings me, and the way I immediately bounce around and air guitar to it, it’s the winner.
Piece of Mind. The revolving door continues, with the departure of drummer Clive Burr and the arrival of Nicko McBrain and at long last, the classic line up is complete. While it contains one of Maiden’s all time stinkers in Quest for Fire, that’s balanced by the likes of Die with your Boots On, The Trooper and the thunder of Where Eagles Dare, in which McBrain doesn’t just stake his claim to the drum seat, he seems to hit everything on the kit at once. The legend goes that he learnt the song a half second at a time, and while I’m not a drummer I can believe that. However, my choice is the albums second single, Flight Of Icarus. I’ve joked in the past that my wife hopes someday I’ll feel about her the way I do the solo in that song and I continue to be gutted that Covid got in the way of my seeing them perform it live on the Legacy of the Beast tour. Bruce had a flamethrower under each arm during parts of it. *cries*
Powerslave (1984) Finally, an album with no change in band members! That doesn’t mean it’s perfect though, as between the instrumental Losfer Words (Big ‘Orra) and the odd choice of two songs about fencing (The Duellists and Flash of the Blade) show. But what is left is an embarrassment of riches, with the rousing boy’s own WW2 adventure of Aces High, the anti war ferocity of 2 Minutes to Midnight, the epic title track, who’s guitar solos should be studied in schools and Back in the Village, another excursion to one of Dickinson’s favourite TV shows. But my choice is avian inspired, that being The Rime of the Ancient Mariner, a song introduced when played live as ‘what not to do when your bird shits on you.’
Somewhere in Time (1986) After an unprecedented 6 month break following the seemingly never ending World Slavery tour, and chronicled in 1985’s Live After Death, they returned to the studio determined to experiment and the result polarises to this day. Guitar synths? The purists weren’t happy, not one bit. There’s no songs from Dickinson on this one for varying reasons, it’s a product of it’s time and could be seen as a twin to Judas Priest’s Turbo, released the same year and a similar sound. As for a song choice, there’s the the epic Alexander the Great (Rhyming Aegean Sea and 334 BC is *chef kiss*), the rousing sing along of Heaven Can Wait, or the enjoy life while you can of Wasted Years, but for me it’s Stranger in a Strange Land.
Seventh Son of a Seventh Son (1988) As with most concept albums, the theme doesn’t quite hang on, but Can I Play with Madness is a cracker, and still regularly played live to this day. The Evil that Men Do and the title track have the traditional Maiden gallop and epic in equal measure, but I have to choose the album opener, Moonchild. From the delicate intro, acoustic guitar mixing with Dickinson’s voice, to the way it builds and builds, finally launching with enough force to break orbit.
No Prayer For The Dying (1990) Line up changes are back! It’s goodbye Adrian Smith and hello Janick Gers, a fine guitarist (who played on Dickinson’s solo album Tattooed Millionaire) and a back to basics approach, ie ditching the spandex for denim and leather. (It didbring us all together after all) As for a song choice, do I have to? Amidst the WW2 songs Tailgunner and Run Silent Run Deep, the televangelist satirising (Or at least trying to) Holy Smoke, and the forgettable likes of Hooks in You or The Assassin, it’s not an album I’ve gone back to in a long time. But if I have to choose, it’s the guilty pleasure shock horror schlock of Bring Your Daughter… To The Slaughter, a song that to it’s credit knocked Cliff Richard off the Christmas Number 1 in the UK that year and may it long be by applauded for doing so.
Fear of the Dark (1992) It’s an improvement, but not by much. There’s a fair whack of Maiden by numbers (See Chains of Misery, Judas be my Guide and Fear is the Key), and I’d put money on From Here to Eternity being Steve Harris trying to write an AC/DC song, but the ferocious burst of Be Quick or Be Dead and the sombre Afraid to Shoot Strangers stand out amidst the rest. The true classic though, is that iconic title track, a regular part of the live set since then. Hearing the crowd singing along with the guitar line never fails to raise my spirits.
The X Factor (1995) It was a long gap between albums, but not every band can immediately replace their singer. An increasingly frustrated Dickinson had jumped ship to start a solo career and was replaced by Blaze Bayley, formerly of Wolfsbane. I have a lot of sympathy for Bayley, as he was both replacing an iconic front man and had a very different voice. The denim was now dyed black, and combined with the horrific album cover of Eddie having his body torn apart, it’s all gone a bit grim. As for a song choice, it’s between Sign of the Cross, Lord of the Flies and Man on the Edge, and I plump for the gothic epic Sign.
Virtual XI (1998) Generally considered the least of Maiden’s back catalogue, I feel it could have been improved have several tracks been shortened. By a lot. Don’t Look to the Eyes of a Stranger is a prime example of this, and while I quite enjoy The Angel and the Gambler in it’s 70’s hard rock pomp, the 4:05 music video version (Compared to the 9: 52 length original) is by far my preferred version. In that spirit, my favourite track is also the shortest, and that’s Futureal. A right banger it is, and a highlight of the era.
Brave New World (2000) By this point things weren’t looking good. Maiden were playing smaller venues and while Dickinson’s solo career was thriving creatively, having been joined by former cohort Adrian Smith, it wasn’t exactly setting the charts on fire. While Blaze Bayley has spoken highly of the plans for a third album in recent years, it wasn’t to be. As if in answer to many prayers news filtered though that Bayley was gone, and that both Bruce Dickinson and Adrian Smith were to return. Anticipation was high, could a new album restore the bands fortunes? Oh hell yes! From opener The Wicker Man, through epics Blood Brothers and The Nomad, to the storming Out of the Silent Planet it said one thing loud and clear: Iron Maiden are back. This was to be no ‘Greatest Hits’ revival, but a whole new era. Indeed, it’s the opener that’s my choice. It’s a banger, and I’d love to hear it played live.
Dance of Death (2003) Yes, the cover art is awful, we all agree. But the albums a cracker, so I’ll forgive it this time. Yes, opener Wildest Dreams is fairly standard, but I adore the riff in Rainmaker and the thunder of No More Lies. Paschendale is a grim tale of the horrors of the First World War, matched in emotion by Montsegur, and the album ends with the bands, at the time of writing, only completely acoustic number, Journeyman. But my track of choice is the title track, in all it’s hammy ridiculous glory. It could go fully Spinal Tap, but somehow makes it work.
A Matter of Life and Death (2006) Further tales of war and death, the band infuriated a section of fandom by playing the entire album from start to finish on a chunk of the tour. I say fuck em’, there’s only so many times you can play the old stuff. These Colours Don’t Run is a defiant cry, perhaps in response to the Ozzfest incident, The Longest Day takes us through the D-Day landings (I’m guessing Adrian Smith had recently watched the film), but it’s the opening single, The Reincarnation of Benjamin Breeg, that’s my choice.
The Final Frontier (2010) The band kept themselves busy during the break between albums, recording a documentary (Flight 666) and finally returning to Australia! Nice work lads, you’d only been saying you’d be down under again since 199fucking5. It was a special night for me, and the memories I still cherish. As for the album, opener Satellite 15 is an odd one, but all becomes clear when the second half of the track, named for the album, kicks in. El Dorado gallops along at speed, while closer When the Wild Wind Blows is a nightmarish epic of fear of nuclear war. My pick? Coming Home, an emotional track about finally, well coming home. It hits me where I live, you know?
The Book of Souls (2015) Yes, the wait between albums are getting longer, but it’s not as if the band are getting younger. This is the point when the tendency towards epics got pushed past any logical extreme, with it being the bands first studio double album, and longest ever song, Empire of the Clouds, an 18 minute long piano based number about the R101 airship disaster. (Fun Fact: One of the Eighth Doctor’s companions was meant to have died on it) I should not listen to Tears of a Clown when I’m having a bad mental health day, as Death or Glory is far more cheerful. The woah-oh’s in The Red and the Black are as addictive as Warhammer 40,000, and Speed of Light rumbles along, but it’s disc 1 opener If Eternity Should Fail that’s my choice. Originally written by Dickinson for a solo album, a reworked version appeared on his most recent disc, The Mandrake Project. While it’s not bad, it doesn’t quite have the soaring bombast of the original, and Maiden’s career long commitment to ‘too much bombast is barely enough’ is one of the reasons I love them so.
Senjutsu (2021) Another double album? Recorded in secret and hidden away for when the then current tour, cut short by that bastard Covid 19, ended? The epics continue, though there’s a few odd notes for me. The Writing on the Wall is a cracking tune, but given Bruce Dickinson’s support of Brexit, some of the lyrics have me wanting the band to leave politics out of things. It’s the same with Darkest Hour, which despite a soaring chorus speaks a little too highly of Winston Churchill, something Doctor Who has done in recent years as well. Therefore, I’m plumping for Death of the Celts, even with the extended middle section that could have been cut in half.
*whew* 17 albums, 17 tracks. This spiralled out of control pretty quickly. In any case, if you’ve made it this far I salute you. Thoughts, feedback, abuse at my choices? I’m curious to hear.
To be aware, this entry will contain minor spoilers for the Fast and the Furious films. You have been warned.
For Feng Shui related reasons, the Fast and the Furious binge watch has continued. I still haven’t watched Tokyo Drift, and for some reason Netflix here doesn’t have F9, but does have Fast X and the Hobbs and Shaw spin off. Crom spare me, I may have to buy the damn things at some point*, if only for the DVD commentaries which hopefully hint at the rumoured feud between several of the leading men about them not being less macho on screen than the others. Rumour has it there’s agreements where one person can’t take as many punches as the other – testosterone poisoning is a funny thing, isn’t it?
I continue to be amused that it’s gone from a series about illegal street racers, some of whom seem to be allergic to sleeves, and that runs almost entirely on the male gaze. (Yes, there’s plenty of buff dudes in tight clothing for those who like that sort of thing, but they’re vastly outnumbered by the scantily clad ladies. I’m reminded of the series Chuck, which I remember enjoying back in the day (And by that I mean the late 2000’s/early 2010’s), but that’s been retrospectively poisoned for me by stars Adam Baldwin and Zachary Levi’s embrace of the far right. I’m more likely to re-watch Burn Notice (Which has it’s own male gaze issues, but also features Bruce Campbell) or Leverage in any case. *sighs* Not everyone is as wonderful as Mark Hamill readers, remember that.
But I digress. So, the films go from a barely plausible series about street racers, to one where two loosely defined ‘agents’ have to team up to stop a cybernetically enhanced madman who has what is functionally a robot motorbike. I get it, the sequel has to go bigger, but surely there’s a point at which you stop, right? NOPE. I feel confident in saying these films throw that, like physics and reality, out the nearest high window at a great speed. There’s the 2 cars dragging a 10 ton safe while being pursued through the streets of Rio in one film, which is in turn topped in a later entry by the driving of a car out the window off a stupidly giant building in Dubai, into and through another building and then into a third stupidly giant building at which point the heroes finally leap out of the car. And I haven’t mentioned the incident with the Predator drone…
There’s no synopsis I can give that will match Grant ‘Honey Heist’ Howitt’s spectacular write up of the first 7 films, but I’m seriously considering adding a mechanic that gives players a bonus to driving checks when they mime changing gears, ala the shot gun rule.
Feng Shui 2nd Ed’s weapon damage table.
I do have a massive bone to pick with them though. Seeing Helen Mirren appear was a joy, even if was an extended cameo but that pales in comparison to Fast 8, in which Charlize Theron plays some sort of cyber terrorist, but who spends more time at a keyboard than with a weapon in hand and that is not what I watch a Charlize Theron film for. Yes, I believe she reappears later in the series, but still. It just seems a phenomenal waste. Maybe that’s why I’m not in charge of the franchise, which is probably a good thing.
So. I’ve begun writing the pitch, have been making character notes and ensuring the game starts with a fight scene. I should start learning the system as well, but I’m borrowing one of my gaming groups to run the back of the book adventure in December, which should help with that. Gonna log off here and start making more notes for that.
Be seeing you…
*As well as the Expendables films, but fortunately 3 out of the 4 are on Netflix at the moment. Based on their trajectory, I’m expecting the 4th, which I haven’t seen yet, to be the worst. Though it can’t possibly be as as bad as XXX: The Return of Xander Cage, which was so damned awful I couldn’t stomach any more after about half an hour. Copies of Hard Boiled and The Killer (I have much to thank the late 90’s SBS Saturday night cult movie slot for, but introducing me to the work of Chow Yun-Fat is in the top 5) have been ordered and will hopefully wash the bad taste of that out of my mouth. Gunpowder Milkshake is next on the watch list till they arrive, and I should probably re-watch Shoot ‘Em Up while I’m at it. Might add The A-Team and The Losers to the list as well.
So, my last two weekends have been at gaming based conventions – the first, playing at Phenomenon, the second, working a booth at PAX Australia. Therefore, it’s recap time!
Pheno continues to be a delight, both in terms of the people there and the quality of games. They went the gamut from an alien beauty contest, at which I was a very stressed intern, to a new Persephone (Damn intense game, but I expect nothing less from the GM team) to an Orcish drummer. There was an inter species relationship (I was a werewolf, he was a vampire), mostly to spite her father. Also, it was a fake, to disguise the actual relationship I’d entered into late game. It made sense at the time. I even managed to come away with two player awards, which was lovely for my ego. (Though to be fair, I think I only managed that cause Niece couldn’t make it this year. Both her and my wife are tremendously skilled lumberjacks*) It’s always nice to have the recognition, to feel as if I was doing something right in the eyes of the GM, even if in both awards this year it was a team effort. For one game, a lot of political arguments, and my confusion at most of the table not realising I was referencing Raiders of the Lost Ark at one point, but we used our ultimate power to create the Scales of Equality, a magic item to even the odds, so to speak. The rich get poorer, and the poor get richer. Idealistic, I know, but it made sense in the game. The second was less a team effort, and more a 3/4’s of the team effort. I’ll explain.
The game was based around a group of Bards in a D&D setting, and the GM is well known for his love of the pun. So, when the music puns started to sing (About, oh, 2 and a half seconds into the game), we turned up the amps in response. Except for my wife, who spent most of the session head in her hands, horrified at what was unleashed. I have no defence, other than we felt entitled to return fire. There’s a reason her prize certificate said ‘For courage under fire’ after all. It’s not that I’m a regular user of the pun, but it’s possible I’ve listened to a few too many pun runs from The Bugle and something has infected me. At least, that’s my excuse and I’m sticking to it. Another highlight for me was speaking in Orcish for the first time IC – the character spoke broken Common, but intellectual Orcish, so going from “Me think you no say good” to “I say good fellow, might we settle this without any unnecessary violence?” in a proper RP accent, was delightful.
Only flaw in the con was my coming sick on the Sunday night, which marred my Monday with a lot of irritating coughing and concern about my health. Took the shine off the after party as well – between the coughs and the way my back was hurting from said coughing, it wasn’t as fun as they usually are. There was good news though, amidst the regular banter and debriefing. The good news being, I have an idea for next year, and it’s positively rational! But more about that later.
Turning to PAX, I got back from Pheno, slept the rest of the day, then the day after was on a flight to Melbourne that evening.. Setup, as always, is painful, but getting to talk to people about games can be wonderfully soothing. my abiding memory of the con being people’s faces experiencing the back cover blurb for Eat the Reich, which ranged from slack-jawed confusion at what the hell did I just read, to full blown “SHUT UP AND TAKE MY MONEY!” Also, near every time I got to talk about it, I’d get the theme to The A-Team in my head. My only regrets, outside of not having more spending money (There was a LARP arming sword that was taunting me the entire con), was not seeing the Owlbear that I’d heard was at the Drachenfest booth. The dragons they had were lovely, but OWLBEAR! I did buy a very cute small plush one, my wife feels we’re on the way to a large collection. Overall, loud and exhausting, with rather overpriced food, but a lot of fun. Looking forward to next year.
Returning to the game idea. Some of my favourite moments as a GM have been when players added to the event, contributing ideas, noodle incidents or bits of canon. It’s a wonderful feeling when players add stuff, even if it’s a better idea than what I had, makes me feel like they’re getting into the spirit of things. I’ve had no small amount of them, ranging from “Was it the Mole-men?” to “We need to drive faster. Somebody give the engine a sandwich.” So, what about a game based on that premise and built on action movie logic? A game that uses a system I’ve not run before, like Feng Shui? *drum roll* Oh yes, that’s exactly the plan.
The idea is simple: it’s the third film in an action movie trilogy, an Expendables-esque** combination of explosions, quips and 10 thousand rounds per 10 round magazine. There’s existing PC relationships, old comrades, grudging team mates and a romance or two, if they have the guts to admit they care about each other. Good drama. At least, I hope. The twist is, the events of the previous 2 films, any Disney+ spin offs or ill advised prequels etc, are determined during play each session. How they met the villain, how much property damage was done in his capture and the full horror of his dastardly world conquering scheme, it’s player driven. I like the idea of getting their input, of making every session really different. Haven’t gotten much further, but there’s a lot of thoughts. Do I set a guideline for what style of event people want at the start? For example, we have three settings: 1: Relatively gritty. 2: 80’s Arnie. 3: Utterly bat-shit insane.
That seems like a good idea, but I know how tired I get near the end of a con, and things get extra whacky no matter what. I’ve had a couple of people say they’d like to request my last session, to see what sort of insanity they can cook up when I’m near exhaustion. That also goes for the setting – did you encounter the villain when he murdered your brother in an underground fighting tournament, or when you fell through a dimensional portal and found yourselves punching Mordred in King Arthur’s court? It’ll certainly test my GM improv skills and not confusing relationships in each session to session could be a nightmare, but I’m liking the idea. Character ideas are coming, and the research… I really should have watched The Old Guard sooner, but that’s led me down a “I need more Charlize Theron kicking ass in my life” path, which has meant I’m finally watching the Fast and the Furious films. I’d be lying if I thought they started well, but I’m up to Furious 6, having skipped Tokyo Drift, and the more over the top they’ve gotten, the more I’m enjoying them. Still early stage enthusiasm, but I’m hoping to hang onto that for as long as I can, so I’m ready to pitch next year. Feels good to have an idea again. Feels real good.
Lastly, Ravenswood have announced another event for neat year, which means I should probably do some more work on the NPC sports teacher idea I had after the last event. *commences idle googling for props and costume*
Be seeing you…
* A piece of slang from the old times, when convention trophies were blocks of wood. ** Let’s be fair here: it may start as The Expendables, but we all know within about 30 seconds it’ll become Hot Shots Part Deux and I’m OK with that.
And lo, twice last week did your humble scribe arose from his sick bed, cleansed his impure body and dressed, before donning the sacred vestments of his faith, the holy band shirt and the consecrated battle vest, then heading forth to worship at the altar of Heavy Metal…
Iron Maiden / Killswitch Engage Qudos Bank Arena, 12&13/09/24
So, I’ve been down sick with a cold for the last week or so, but it’s been 8 long years since the mighty Iron Maiden last graced our shores, and there was no way in hell I was going to miss it. Not the least of which cause I was seeing both shows – the first show I had a floor ticket for (It’s the closest I’ve ever been!), the second show up in the stands with my Glorious and Beloved Wife. I cant say I’m a fan of support act Killswitch Engage, so I spend their set outside eating, though the version of Dio’s Holy Diver that ends their set seems to be received well. It’s been some time since I attended a large scale concert, so seeing what appeared to be phone torch semaphore going on between sections of the crowd was new. Not as cute as the young child who was on a parent’s shoulders down on the floor on the Thursday show though, that was parenting done right.
And then, it is time. The familiar strains of UFO’s Doctor Doctor ring out, the crowd begins to jump and sing, knowing the time is near. The strains of the Vangelis score to Blade Runner fill the air, the lights dim and Caught Somewhere in Time begins, the band hitting stage as the gallop launches in. What can I say about them? There’s Dave Murray, eyes closed in concentration, effortlessly blazing away on his guitar, Adrian Smith’s relaxed and nonchalant manner in complete contrast to Janick Ger’s wild flailing, both of his fingers up and down the fretboard and of his guitar. How he hadn’t lost several into the crowd I’ll never know. Steve Harris, one foot up on the monitors, machine gunning the crowd with his bass. Iconic. For someone who had a stroke about 18 months ago, Nicko McBrain’s drumming has barely missed a beat. Lastly, and certainly not least, is front man Bruce Dickinson. The crowd’s in the palm of his hand as soon as he hits stage, that effortless charisma on full blast. True, the between song dialogue is sometimes a little hokey and there’s a pun that’s positively Zaltzman-esque, but there are few who can match him for keeping a crowd engaged. And that soaring voice of his is still jaw dropping, more so given a bout of throat cancer a few years back.
The setlist is mostly taken from the Somewhere in Time and Senjutsu albums, an unexpected choice between ‘guitar synth led experimental album’ and ‘latest epic double album’. but the sci-fi and historical themes match up surprisingly well. A giant cyborg Eddie pays a brief visit during Stranger in a Strange Land then retreats again backstage, emerging once again in Heaven Can Wait to engage Bruce in a laser gun battle, the first pyro we’ve seen all show. It’s not my favourite song, but the rousing “Woah-oh!” section is irresistible. The thud of the bass drum during The Writing on the Wall threatens to scramble my innards like a Dalek death ray and I’m still amused that I first heard a Maiden tribute act perform Alexander the Great before the real thing. As cheesy as it is, rhyming ‘Aegean Sea’ and ‘334 BC’ is *chef kiss* to me. My face lights up hearing “We want, information. Information. Information” that intros The Prisoner and the level in anticipation that builds in the brief seconds between seeing the banner change and the intro to Fear of the Dark is spectacular, to say nothing of the sing along to it that is as mandatory as death and taxes. Death of the Celts gets a spoken intro from Bruce about how genocidal fuckwits always fail that’s well meaning but drags, and as good as the song sounds live, I still maintain you could strip a couple of minutes of melodic instrumental from the middle and affect it not one bit, Mind you, I’m not brave enough to tell Steve Harris that, and I suspect you aren’t either.
The main set ends with a triumphant blast through Iron Maiden, with a giant samurai Eddie stalking the stage (as well as Janick Gers), and a blast of pyro, not to mention the giant inflatable Eddie head that arose from behind the drum riser. All are thanked, sweatbands and drumsticks are thrown to the crowd and the band are away. We wait patiently, knowing there’s more, our devotion soon rewarded with Hell on Earth (The song, not the return of Scott Morrison as PM), and the raised stage erupting in bursts of flame, which is clearly where most of the gig’s pyro budget has gone to. The banner changes once again and I have to restrain myself from screaming with joy? Why? It’s The Trooper. We all go somewhat apeshit, both screaming along and air guitaring in my case. How can you not? The show ends with a triumphant run through Wasted Years, which is equal parts sadness and joy for me*, as the joy of the song is mixed with the show ending. More items are thrown at the crowd, Bruce promises they’ll be back (I’m fucking holding you to that!) and true to form, Nicko is the last to leave the stage. We shamble out into the night to the traditional show closer, Always Look on the Bright Side of Life, and embrace the chill night air.
It was a Maiden show. Part rock concert, part gathering of the tribes. it was genuinely heart warming to see both the love in the room, and the diversity. All ages, races and genders, all of us were there to have a good time and by Crom, we did. My body aches, my throat is shot from screaming and I’m brutally reminded of how out of shape I am, as 6 guys with more than 20 years on me have just kicked my ass. It was a damn good night, both of them. Long live Maiden, and all who sail with them. Amen.
SET LIST: Caught Somewhere in Time Stranger in a Strange Land The Writing on the Wall Days of Future Past The Time Machine The Prisoner Death of the Celts Can I Play with Madness? Heaven Can Wait Alexander the Great Fear of the Dark Iron Maiden
ENCORE: Hell on Earth The Trooper Wasted Years
*Many years ago in the depths of a crush on someone I still regret, I spent 2 hours wandering Melbourne looking for a landmark that would lead me to where I was staying while listening to that song on repeat, completely missing the point of it. I was young and stupid, what can I say?
So, a friend posted this recently in a group chat we’re both in:
I have rarely felt so called out (in a good way) and so relieved there’s a name for what I do. Sending things to people I think they’ll like brings me joy – I’ve been at it so long that large chunks of my online time now consists of little more than “Ooh, this person needs to know about this show”, or “I know someone who’ll get a giggle out of this.” Seeing the appreciative reactions makes me happy, it’s how I show people I care about them. Or cursing them, depending on what I’ve just sent. it’s the little things that bring me the most joy, much like getting my comment read out on A Wheezing Groaning Sound*, as I found to my joy last week. (It’s in Part 3 of their look at The Green Death, for those curious enough to partake)
There was a short trip to Adelaide last week for a relative’s funeral and while I could say fuck cancer, I’m all but certain the deceased in question wouldn’t want me using such harsh language. My family tend towards the conservative side of things, bless them, and while I’m fairly straight laced compared to most, I’m by far the odd one out in the family compared to them. I have embraced the role. I don’t like funerals at the best of times, as I tend to react to confronting my mortality by screaming and running in the opposite direction. Case in point: I was recently pondering whether to use an image of Cohen the Barbarian as the main image for my next birthday party invite, or to save it for my 50th, at which point my wife said “Well, it’s not that far away!” Ah, love. I did spend some afterwards pondering a funerary playlist, and at the time of writing Brillig’s The Old Captain, (AKA the theme tune for the Pirate History Podcast) is still what I’d like to leave to. It seems fitting compared to my current earworm, which is bardcore versions of Klingon songs. Some days I out nerd even me.
The second funeral, of sorts, was scattering my wife’s Godfather’s ashes at their favourite camping spot. I endure camping at the best of times, and I’m hoping the leech bite I got on Sunday calms down soon, as I’ve never had a reaction like it. The rash is healing, but there’s been moments when I’ve all but wanted to carve the offending skin away. At the very least, some superpowers would be nice – it would compensate for the itch. I’m sure the deceased would have fallen about laughing watching us struggling to open the container of his ashes, and the levity was much needed. The story telling afterwards was how I’d hope to be remembered, and I’m not sure how, but discussion of memories, and when we’re forgotten led to me introducing one of the assembled to the story of Ea Nasir later that night. It seemed rational at the time. In any case, the deceased will be be sorely missed, but now his watch has ended.
I was hoping to catch up up with some of the LARP folks I know while I was in Adelaide, but only managed to meet one. On the bright side, it was my LARP fiancé, which means my spouses (Real and fictional) have now met. Can’t lie, I wasn’t sure how it was going to go, but things went very well and based on how well the game of Pandemic: Reign of Cthulhu we played over dinner went, IRL wife considers LARP fiancé something of a good luck charm. The Lost Dice is a lovely venue who do a very nice burger and I’ll make sure to go back when I return. It’s a bit optimistic to have a copy of Twilight Imperium when you’re open less than 24/7, but the staff member who served us said they’d talked about an overnight lock in to play it. That’s a glorious idea that I in no way at all have the attention span for. Surprisingly, there wasn’t much LARP talk, but I continue to hope there’ll be another Path of the Warden event so our characters story can continue. Please?
Lastly, in the news I’m sure you’ve all been hoping for, I’m all but adjusted to the haircut, except for during high winds. I do find myself running my hands through it a lot, which means I have a new nervous tic I guess? That and I need a bandana before sword comes back (The hall we train in is being used for democracy the next couple of weeks), as 9 times out of 10 I’ll put my mask on only to have a strand come down over my eyes. *sighs*
Good night all. Be seeing you.
*Warning: Listening to Wheezing Groaning Sound can result in fits of uncontrollable giggling, an unhealthy curiosity as to what courses the Open University was showing, and the urge to solve problems using the Pertwee Method, namely by yelling “HAI!” and karate chopping people on the shoulder blades. You have been warned.
Last week I typed “I am not good at selfies” into my phone.
Auto correct changed that to “I am not good at self-esteem.”
I have not felt that personally attacked in a long, long time.
What prompted that particular exchange was something I’ve also not done in a long, long time. Brace yourselves people, but a bit over a week ago, I got a haircut.
Newer readers may be unaware of how long my I’ve had my hair that way, but it’s been near 30 years. I grew it as part of my nascent heavy metal fandom, and kept it. It was a signature, part of my style and identity, a silent declaration of ‘this is who I am and what I’m into’. Yeah, there was the odd cry of “Get a haircut!” and the like, but once it grew past the Beatle’s mop top length, it became my style. I’m certain the only people I’m in regular contact with these days who’ve seen me with short hair are family, and they were quite surprised when word got out. It was very much the ‘make sure you’re sitting down when you read this’ type of message. Why I did this was simple. Between some gentle nudges from my wife about it’s condition, and seeing far too much of the back of my head in the photos from Ravenswood, I bit the bullet. I’m proud of not bolting for the door at the salon and I certainly understand why she goes there, as the atmosphere was lovely. They even asked if I wanted to keep some of it, and while I was tempted to take a photo of the pile of hair on the floor, I felt no need for a keepsake lock or two.
As for how it looks now, well, it’s a lot shorter. There hasn’t been as much of the “Who the fuck are you?” when I look in the mirror, though given it’s now unrestrained I do find myself sweeping it back from my eyes a lot more. The reactions have been a mix of shock and appreciation, which has been much appreciated, though one acquaintance said it was a Samson-esque moment, and my brain went straight to Hercules Returns…
Turning to gaming, thanks to the generosity of a dear friend, I now have a physical copy of Feng Shui 2nd edition. For those who know not of it’s glory, it’s inspired by Hong Kong action cinema. If you’ve seen any of the work of John Woo, Tsui Hark, Jackie Chan or Jet Li, you’ll have a good idea of what to expect. The first edition was something of a revelation to me, for while I never did quite grapple with the metaplot, the idea of a game who’s combat was more than “I swing at him” *rolls dice* “And I miss”, where action movie wackiness was positively encouraged (To quote the GM advice book Blowing Up The Movies, “Any place you can have a rickety shelf packed with propane tanks, there will be a rickety shelf packed with propane tanks.”), it was a thing of beauty. Now owning a physical copy of the book has made reading it a lot easier (As opposed to the PDF), as well as learning the system (in as much I ever learn a system) and soaking all the detail in, one part of the book stood out to me. Short version: In the setting there’s a form of time travel, by accessing junctures in the Netherworld, the 4 main areas being 69AD, 1850AD, the modern day and the blasted post apocalyptic wasteland of 2074. Now, there’s a number of other junctures in the book involving alternate histories, cyborg apes and the like, all regular run of the mill stuff, but the one that stuck out the most tome shouldn’t be a surprise, at least not to anyone who’s played one of my convention games…
HOW IN THE EVER LOVING FUCK HAVE I NOT DONE THIS BEFORE? I’ve owned a PDF of the game since the Kickstarter ended near 10 years back, and somehow never noticed this. I can only assume I was rolling those particular Notice checks. It’s not that my events don’t have that particular style of wacky, but they tend to be more low budget BBC than Chow Yun-Fat diving through the air both guns blazing. This might have sparked a few ideas for bringing the Chi War to France, or reskinning the system to buckle some swash. Hell, maybe setting it in space. Firearms can pierce the hull, but swords don’t after all.. Well, unless we’re talking laser swords and that is damn tempting. Anyhow, I’m dead keen to run it, though more as the occasional one-off rather than a campaign.
Outside that, I’m still battered and sore from a sword class yesterday. A lot of time in it was spent blocking other people’s blades with my body, even if that wasn’t the intention. As a great man once said, it’s all in the reflexes. Walking today hasn’t been fun, though the shoulder that took most of the blows isn’t as sore as I was expecting. Which was nice. I need to warm up more and work on my reflexes. I adore fencing, but there’s days it really hurts.
As for the future, who knows? I’m still eyeing off going to the next Concord event to crew, hoping to hear about upcoming events (I have been very good and not been bombarding the Path of the Warden crew with questions) and am looking forward to new Lower Decks and Transformers One. Do I like Chris Hemsworth’s Optimus Prime voice? Not really. I’m also not a fan of the tone of it, at least based on the trailer, let alone the celebrity rather than voice actor casting. Peter Cullen’s voice casts a long shadow and Hemsworth based on the trailer doesn’t have it. Still, it’s not to have a reminder that at heart it’s a production for people who were my age when I first watched the show. I’m reminded of the age of the cinema audience when I went to see Muppets from Space.
That’s it, time for bed. Night all. Be seeing you.
PS: No, you don’t get a photo of my hair, you’ll have to wait till you see me in the flesh. My wife’s orders.
Radio Birman / The Hard On’s. Manning Bar Sydney, 07/06/2024
After 50 years, it’s come to this – what is likely to be Radio Birdman’s final gig. A momentous occasion, and one more than worthy of comment. I’ve spoken long in the past about the effect they had on me, and if you ever want to kill a lot of time, ask me about them in person. If you’d rather not, and I can’t blame you, you could check out the new biography of them freshly released (Yes, I own it), a recent warts and all documentary and look up any number of stories of their volatility, both musical and personal. Their myth casts a long shadow to this day over the Sydney rock scene. Hell, even their logo is reminiscent of some sort of cult sigil, and they were once accused of Nazism by Red Symons. No, I’m not joking. But the songs are where it’s at. Aloha Steve and Danno changed my life and I’d wager I’ve spent more time air guitaring to that song than some people have spent hugging their loved ones.
The Manning Bar is packed, I think for the first time I’ve been their when that’s happened. To be fair, the whole tour was pretty much sold out, but it’s nice to see. The crowd is mostly comprised of various shades of grey and/or balding, as I am, but there’s patches of youth among them. I couldn’t help but notice the two guys in-front of me, who barely seemed to move. I get that you may not air guitar as openly or enthusiastically as I do, but how can you not be moved by this?
Opening were the Hard On’s, now fronted by Tim ‘You Am I’ Rogers, in full Iggy Pop/Bon Scott tribute mode. We get a set of what I presume to be new, or at least modern, material, with Rogers commenting on that after queries from the crowd. At one point I looked away for a few seconds, and when I looked back at the stage the entire band were now shirtless. Some band members managed it better than others is all I’ll say. I’m not exactly a fan, but they do their thing and do it well, with some of the banter being a highlight for me. They seem genuinely happy to be there, and in awe of the headliners, with the story that New Race being the first song they tried to play back in the day going over well.
I try to be supportive towards support bands, as it’s frequently a thankless task, but they aren’t doing it for me. Still, they go down well, and that’s a good thing. But I’m here for the headliners, them and them alone. Seeing them walk out onstage for likely the final time, singer Rob Younger bowing as he gets to the mic, it was emotional for me. Lead guitarist Deniz Tek is playing the Epiphone Crestwood guitar that used to belong to Fred ‘Sonic’ Smith of the MC5, which makes that guitar into a rock and roll equivalent of a piece of the True Cross. For those keeping track, Tek’s also an emergency surgeon and former US Navy aviator, who’s callsign was Iceman. Legend has it the Top Gun production crew visited the squadron he served with, which led Birdman associate Mark Sisto to later write to Rolling Stone magazine to say “You see, I know the real Iceman and Val Kilmer, you are no Deniz Tek.” Keyboardist Pip Hoyle’s all in black, which combined with the red tie he’s wearing makes him look like a pulp hero. I’ve no idea if the Spirit or Shadow ever moonlighted in rock bands, but he sure looks the part. I can’t not mention the rest of the band though, with Jim Dickson (bass), Nik Reith (drums) and Dave Kettley (guitar) firing on all cylinders. But it’s hard to take the eyes from Younger and Tek – Younger’s stage moves are as chaotic as always, while Tek’s intense façade breaks and he cracks a smile a couple of times during the show. It’s genuinely unsettling.
They open with Smith and Wesson Blues, and we’re off and racing. It’s functionally a greatest hits set, mixing material from the ‘classic’ albums (Radios Appear and Living Eyes) and a few from 2006’s Zeno Beach, with covers of Route 66 and the Velvet Underground’s Rock and Roll in the encore. It’s impossible to build a setlist that will please everyone, but this one bounces well between the faster and slower tracks – Alone in the Endzone, then Do the Pop or later on, a thundering version of Descent into the Maelstrom is followed by Man with Golden Helmet, at which point a slightly intoxicated seeming woman yells at me how it’s her favourite song. Also, it took a lot of restraint during Descent not to throw myself into the crowd. We’re packed in pretty tightly, so my air guitar reflex is restrained. My calves and hips over the other hand, ached for several days afterwards from toe tapping and beat keeping. I’d be curious to see what my brain activity is like during that song, but I couldn’t be lying down during the test.
Might be about the time I started to smell something in the crowd – could have been fresh paint from the graffiti tunnel I’d walked through, a curious ‘substance’ I’m unaware of or someone near me badly misjudged a fart. Mostly I was glad it didn’t appear to be me. The intro’s to Hand of Law and Monday Morning Gunk are extended, and both work beautifully – that bass rumble that begins Hand sounds all the more ominous being on repeat, and the way Gunk begins, with delicate picking that slowly ramps up speed, it’s just *chef kiss* Finally New Race kicks in, and a roar of cries of “Yeah Hup!” signify the end of the set. Mercifully, we get a few more songs after they come back. Murder City Nights goes down a treat, after which Tek says “We’re gonna do one more then we’re gonna get outta here”, and proceeds to thank management, crew and venue staff. At that point my hopes and prayers are answered as that drum pattern kicks in and we get Aloha Steve and Danno. I may have shed a tear or two as I cheered them goodbye, and I regret nothing.
I collect my thoughts, make sure the shirt I bought is still hanging in my belt and commence my journey home. It was a night for the ages. We will never see their likes again, and my nights are dark and empty when they’re not on TV. Book em Danno, Murder One!
PS: Apparently Albo, aka Prime Minister Anthony Albanese, was seen backstage.
shoutybeardything 