August 12th, 2001


Six Thousand Strands of Hair

I felt I had to go and see Final Fantasy, simply because if I am going to write this damn sf movie book, there can be no copping out of looking at rubbish at least once. And everyone was absolutely right - it is good-looking in its way, but a peculiarly pointless film. The heroine's hair seems to have cost a significant part of the budget and yet, for all that each hair is individually computer-generated, it still looks wrong every time she tosses her non-racially-specific head. The wastelands are pretty standard fractally stuff and the monsters - except for the flying serpent thingy - a rather tiresome amalgamation of every monster we have seen in recent years. Interesting that both this and the equally awful Evolution share the cliche of the final form of the alien life being terribly big and terribly simple and very very hungry. Obviously there is some deep-seated fear of the violent techno-fix of which we will see a lot more.

Baby Boomer Die Die Die

Every so often, I am forced to remember how much my generation, or as I ought to say ma-my ge-generation, is hated, in the abstract, by my younger friends.

I can see the point - after all, I despise yuppies and libertoonians and patronizing liberals too; but so do a lot of my actual friends my own age. We were a very radical generation and a lot of us never sold out to any significant extent. It is just a shame that so many people I know did.

Still, we were a generation with pretty good music, a generation that acted as foot-soldiers for feminism and gay liberation, a generation that knew how to party.

We deserve a bit better than to be damned without appeal...