Frequently Asked Questions About Time Travel

a film by Gareth Carrivick

Who could have thought that visiting a loo in your local could be that dangerous?

Frequently Asked Questions About Time Travel (shown here as Aikamatkustus FAQ) is a proof that you don’t need a Hollywood-size budget to make a good sci-fi movie. It has a clever script; a bunch of familiar and semi-familiar faces: Chris O’Dowd (Simon “I believe the technical term is a fuckload of boats” from The Boat That Rocked), Anna Faris (Friends), Marc Wootton and Meredith MacNeill (both Confetti — I think I saw it) and Dean Lennox Kelly (I think I saw something with him, but don’t quote me on that); and it is funny. Needless to say, I won’t be able to hear the most popular song to sing in the shower with the same ears ever again.

East City Blues Band In Session

by East City Blues Band

I thought Zel Quartet was obscure. I could find even less info on ECBB. I only learned about them thanks, once again, to the Porvoo city library, and only because the album’s beautiful cardboard sleeve caught my attention in the “uutuus” (“new”) section. I don’t even know where one can buy this album, physical or MP3. I guess you can enquire via their Facebook page.

So why do I write here about them? Because they are great and really deserve a bit of publicity.

East City Blues Band In Session Pride and Joy (Stevie Ray Vaughan) I Ain’t Superstitious (Willie Dixon) Sittin’ on Top of the World (traditional) Mary Had a Little Lamb (Buddy Guy / S.R. Vaughan) Black Magic Woman (Peter Green) Out of Reach (Peter Green) Red House (Jimi Hendrix) Death Don’t Have No Mercy (Reverend Gary Davis / Tina E. Andrus) Sweet Home Chicago (Robert Johnson) Sweet Home Alabama (Ed King / Gary Rossington / Ronnie Van Zant) Worried About my Baby (Howlin’ Wolf) Malted Milk (Robert Johnson) Tapsa Suonperä, guitars Hemppa Lehtimäki, vocals Eero Martin, bass Tuomo Saloheimo, keyboards Sauli Lahtinen, drums & percussion Vexi Kirsimaa, harmonica Recorded at Mooseblues, Helsinki and Ksar Musique, Porvoo Mixed and Produced at Ksar Musique Ksar Musique & East City Blues Society 2013

Hickory Dickory Dock

a film by Andrew Grieve

I first saw this episode of Agatha Christie’s Poirot back in mid-1990s. Until I watched it again a few days ago, I couldn’t remember anything at all apart from its glorious finale. The rest of the movie, as I discover now, is not bad either, although the mouse (that ran up the clock) is really annoying.

Hercule Poirot. It is most kind of you to invite me here, Chief Inspector.
Chief Inspector Japp. After staying with you for a whole week, Poirot, the least I could do is offer you a spot of lunch, wean you away from that... well, let you taste some proper English cooking.
Poirot. And the good Madam Japp, it is today that she returns?
Japp. Yes, about three o’clock. There. Now that is what I call food. That’s your mashed potato. This is your peas.
Poirot. Oui.
Japp. Mushy peas, we call ’em. You’ll love ’em. And this, the pièce de résistance... faggots.
Poirot. Faggots?
Japp. Faggots. And there’s spotted dick for afters.
Poirot. Dick?
Japp. Yes, it’s called that because...
Poirot. This is tragic, Chief Inspector.
Japp. No, no, it’s fine.
Poirot. I can eat none of this wonderful food.
Japp. What? Why?
Poirot. Because... I have an allergy of the faggot.
Japp. An allergy?
Poirot. Oui. I do not know how you say it in English but in Belgian it is known as... le phobie de faggot.
Japp. I’ve never heard of that.
Poirot. I am so sorry, Chief Inspector, I should have warned you.
Japp. Well, this is a blessed upset, I must say. Still, you can have some spotted dick. You don’t have a phobie de dick, have you?
Poirot. Non... Some cheese?
Japp. I’ll have a look.
Poirot. Some brie perhaps? Bon.
Japp. Nothing like a nice bit of mouse trap.

Waving at the Gardener

edited by Kate Pullinger

This book presents the twelve stories shortlisted for the Asham Short-Story Award 2009, plus four stories (all excellent) by Margaret Atwood, Esther Freud, Yiyun Li and Alison MacLeod. All different, each touching a different nerve. My favourites are Because it is Running By by Jo Lloyd, a beautifully understated love story (deservedly, first prize); Rape Fantasies by Margaret Atwood; and The Stripper and the Dead Man by Janna Connerton.

❀ ❀ ❀

She would slice some bread and cut some cheese and wash some lettuce in the tiny kitchen that was next to the couch that was also the bed that was next to the shower. She liked the smallness of the caravan, the few steps it took to go from beginning to end, the little space there was to accumulate things. Just what you needed and no more. Every morning she turned the bed into a couch, made it ready for the day, and every evening she turned it back into a bed. In the night she could hear creatures moving around outside, as if she wasn’t there.

Jo Lloyd, Because it is Running By

❁ ❁ ❁

The old woman returns to the flat, walking faster than she should, and finds Electra at her husband’s side reading to him from the paper. They have solved that day’s crossword, working out the clues together. The old woman is sad that they have performed this most intimate of acts together, more intimate than that for which Electra’s services were obtained.

Janna Connerton, The Stripper and the Dead Man

✾ ✾ ✾

She and I are the ones that’ve been here the longest and she never will forget the time I got drunk at the office party and insisted I was going to dance under the table instead of on top of it, I did a sort of Cossack number but then I hit my head on the bottom of the table — actually it was a desk — when I went to get up, and I knocked myself out cold. She’s decided that’s the mark of an original mind and she tells everyone new about it and I’m not sure that’s fair. Though I did do it.

Margaret Atwood, Rape Fantasies

Contents Alison MacLeod: The Thaw Alexandra Fox: Whalebone Stays Nora Morrison: All for the Best Jo Lloyd: Because it is Running By Janna Connerton: The Stripper and the Dead Man Esther Freud: The Crossroads Erica Rocca: Something Small and Understood Hilary Plews: Lily’s Army Cherise Saywell: The Candle Garden Vicky Grut: Visitors Alison Dunn: Omi’s Ghosts Yiyun Li: Number 3, Garden Road Juno McKittrick: Bella Liz Day: Waving at the Gardener Margaret Atwood: Rape Fantasies Catherine Chanter: A Summary of Findings

Erik XI

by Zel Quartet

By the end of my stay here, I start to discover some bands from Porvoo. At least I think they are from Porvoo. Zel Quartet is one. The other day I saw an old (two or three year old?) poster of them on the wall close to the town centre. (Which made me think that either nobody dared to paste anything over or the glue used for the latter posters was of inferior quality.)

The title of the album sounds like a name of an Old Norse king but I think it simply reflects the fact that the bandleader, Erik Lindroth, wrote eleven compositions (if you count Spacetip — Introduction and Spacetip as one). In any case, Viking metal it ain’t. The music is more like “old-school” jazz-rock, which is surprising as that the band members appear in their late 20s or early 30s. All in all, a very impressive debut album, recorded in just three days. I have been listening to it for about a week now and I am still not bored.

Any reservations? Well, somebody should have proofread the liner notes. Given that you are highly unlikely to buy the real CD, this should be the least of your worries.

Erik XI

Spacetip — Introduction Spacetip (Beck’s Slide) — inspired by Jeff Beck Octa B (GB Octaves) — inspired by George Benson Jimmy Zep — inspired by Jimmy Page sCo — inspired by John Scofield Mindflick Too Slow To Part M Drop — inspired by John McLaughlin Wes — inspired by Wes Montgomery Thoughts Of You — inspired by Al DiMeola Six Through Eight Shifting Zel Quartet is: Erik “Zerick” Lindroth: guitar Lasse Rantanen: bass Mikko Seppä: keys Wille Granö: drums All songs written by Erik Lindroth Arrangement: Lindroth, Rantanen, Seppä, Granö Recorded live between 6 and 9.8.2012 Recording engineer: Jonas “Blomman” Blomqvist Producer: Erik Lindroth Custom Music Records © & ℗ 2013

Revival

by Timur Kulikov

An absolutely fantastic work. This is what Timur says:

Another idea for a movie. Haven’t thought of a name yet but I’ve thought of the story. After an evil alchemist killed half the people in the kingdom, five people were sent to bring him to justice. The currently dead guy and the four guys with their backs turned. From left to right: a human alchemist, a gargoyle, a mercenary of a race that have one eye on the front and another on the back, a mushroom man who mainly carries stuff and fights when the group is endangered. Currently the four-armed one has had his soul expelled and they’re using a spell triggered by music to get him back.

Of course, there is more to it. Who are the guys who face us? (I like the guitarist.) What is this place? Who are the dark figures on the top? You think about it.

Revival

Right Ho, Jeeves

by P. G. Wodehouse

It’s funny that, though being a fan of the old J. & W. show, I never read anything by P. G. Wodehouse himself, until now that is. But — listen. Last Christmas two young feline creatures named Jeeves and Wooster made their first short appearance around here. Since then, I completely forgot about them. And then I went away for a month and learned that they were visiting again and made themselves at home, to the extent that they viewed the living room rightly theirs and regarded anyone else as visitors. Right ho, I said to myself, what a wonderful world, or something on those lines. So I downloaded this book onto Kindle and read most of it in the air, somewhere between Las Palmas and Helsinki. Marvellous. And did it have anything on cats? What cats? It never was about cats.

I remember when I was a kid at school having to learn a poem of sorts about a fellow named Pig-something — a sculptor he would have been, no doubt — who made a statue of a girl, and what should happen one morning but that the bally thing suddenly came to life. A pretty nasty shock for the chap, of course, but the point I’m working round to is that there were a couple of lines that went, if I remember correctly:

She starts. She moves. She seems to feel
The stir of life along her keel.

♥ ♥ ♥

The discovery of a toy duck in the soap dish, presumably the property of some former juvenile visitor, contributed not a little to this new and happier frame of mind. What with one thing and another, I hadn’t played with toy ducks in my bath for years, and I found the novel experience most invigorating. For the benefit of those interested, I may mention that if you shove the thing under the surface with the sponge and then let it go, it shoots out of the water in a manner calculated to divert the most careworn.

♥ ♥ ♥

His hair was full of twigs, and there was a beetle hanging to the side of his head which would have interested Gussie Fink-Nottle. To this, however, I paid scant attention. There is a time for studying beetles and a time for not studying beetles.

♥ ♥ ♥

I consulted Jeeves once more in the language of the eyebrow. He raised one of his. I raised one of mine. He raised his other. I raised my other. Then we both raised both.

♥ ♥ ♥

“Curse all dancing chauffeurs! What on earth does a chauffeur want to dance for? I mistrusted that man from the start. Something told me he was a dancer.”

♥ ♥ ♥

“Bertie, I have something to say to you.”
“What?”
“I have something to say to you.”
“I know. I said ‘What?’”
“Oh, I thought you didn’t hear what I said.”
“Yes, I heard what you said, all right, but not what you were going to say.”
“Oh, I see.”
“Right-ho.”