gominokouhai: (Default)
2013-04-11 04:23

In which motion is captured

What are you doing with your free time, pajh? you say. Well, since you asked so nicely, I'll skip the otherwise obligatory free time, what's that joke, and go straight to the incontrovertibly true answer: these days I spend my free time dressing up in skintight Lycra® and wrestling with men I barely know.

I may have mentioned in a previous post that Hollywood-grade motion capture systems create the potential for new narrative paradigms for the 21st century. Well, mostly I mentioned that they allow a specific actor, that actor being me, to hear the single most beautiful phrase ever expressed to an actor. We'll get to new narrative paradigms later. Meantime, there have been a number of very rapid learning experiences while working with thew new tech, not least of which is that I actually don't look totally terrible in skintight Lycra.

Mocap suit

Middle-class beer gut tastefully cropped out of photograph. EVERY PINT WAS WORTH IT I TELL YOU

Unsurprisingly, most of the research in gyroscopic technologies these days is being done by the ballistics division of the US military and their contractors. Many of my readers may not have a particular interest in the increasingly accurate science of the transformation of alleged insurgents into chargrilled jerky from a distance of many kilometres, but fret not! for those of us so callously disinterested in how to blame friendly fire on technology, there are subsequent benefits for all of us (except for the families of the alleged insurgents, presumably): benefits like the upcoming Wolverine movie, and Skrillex' latest tour. I am, as ever, all about the trickle-down.

Yay us!

Another benefit of the fact that this is all repurposed military technology is that it's all incredibly robust. The suit comes in a case that is waterproof to 500 metres, and also conveniently scaled to comply with most airlines' regulations regarding carry-on luggage. In the event of a terrorist attack on a plane in which such a case was stored, it's more likely to survive than the black box. I dread to speculate on the newspaper headlines once the crash recovery team have spent a week attempting to recover data from it. Apparently the Captain spent twenty minutes trying to have an elaborate fistfight with the first officer, followed by an extended period of merengue dancing, with occasional periods of jazz hands. This presumably contributed to the crash, but exactly how is a question we hope maybe to have answered by next week.

Oh yes, the mocap. The suits are surprisingly accurate and expressive, to a level that I didn't think was possible. And you can play the mocap live in realtime into any 3D world you care to devise. In the following examples, we're going to be using Minecraft, because Minecraft. Also, because Minecraft is incredibly pretty, and it shows you just what you can do with a blocky Steve guy with no facial expressions.

Ye First Video: Meet the Creeper

In this short film I play the Creeper, which while it's not exactly a speaking role, does have the benefit of being in the title.

Took us about five minutes to shoot. About an hour of getting the suits configured first, but that's just teething. On a regular film shoot I spend much more time hanging around waiting, and there are usually fewer copies of Transmetropolitan lying about with which for me to occupy my time. These suits are awesome.

Ye Video the Second: in which pajh does acting

I know I'm a middle-class New Town bastard these days, but I do still pay attention to my acting when I get the chance. I have the most popular text-to-speech voice in the known world, and physical acting is no less an important discipline. I have done courses. I've done the Alexander Technique. I do stretches properly before I perform mocap (judiciously excluding the stretches that are likely to tear the €500 lycra suit, natch). I'm not by any means attempting to put myself up there in Patrick Stewart territory, but I think my research has paid off. In this second video I have more of a starring role.

I showed this to [personal profile] stormsearch and she got about twenty seconds in before she had to pause it and proclaim, oh god. It's you. Something about the way I hold my head slightly to one side, it would seem. And then there are little things, like the fact that apparently I pick my right foot up when I'm considering something. I didn't know that about me until I watched it expressed by a blocky Minecraft Steve.

The level of expressiveness and the subtlety you can get from the tech is quite incredible. I'm quite excited to see where this goes next.

In my Copious Free Time, obviously.

gominokouhai: (Inspector Fuckup)
2013-04-10 02:08

On whiskyieseses

My preferred serve at the moment is—no really, trust me on this—whisky and cream soda. Get yourself a nice smoky Islay blend (Black Bottle is good, plus the purchase of it pisses off Donald Trump; Islay Mist is far superior if you can find it), pack an old-fashioned glass with plenty of ice, and add cream soda. Since I am a posh New Town bastard these days, none of the supermarkets round here sell cream soda. I have to walk for twenty minutes before I can get to the grotty kind of store that has a proper shelf full of Barr's products. It is worth the walk.

There is a commonly held belief that one shouldn't add mixers to single malts. This view is incorrect. You still shouldn't, ever, add mixer to single malts, unless you have a really good reason, which I often do. In defiance of this naive view, I have tried the same pour with Smokehead. Smokehead is a single malt (Scuttlebutt has it that it's a seven-year-old vatted Ardbeg with a dash of 10yo), but it still doesn't work as well in this serve as Islay Mist, which is a bloody fantastic drop for a blend, and cheap too, if you can find it.

Limited Edition, single cask, Ximenez finish cask strength 1996 Ben Riach: bloody marvellous. This is the bottle I was saving for when Maggie died, and now I finally have something for which I should thank the horrendous old bitch. Worth waiting for. Not a lot of point in my reviewing this, since most of you will never get to drink any. I have bottle no. 112 of 310, and this one's not coming round again. But nonetheless: bloody marvellous. Tart apple, hint of stewed raisins, and strong acetone on the nose; incredibly sticky mouthfeel, with a touch of burnt golden syrup on the palate; lighter notes and the sherry and oak all come out when you add a drop of water. The concentrated essence of apfelstrudel in a glass. Bloody beautiful. Thanks, Mags. Please feel free to die again any time you like.

Now, who's up for clubbing together to buy a cask of something nice, so that we may drink it when Gideon Osborne is finally deservingly assassinated?

I had a whisky recently that tasted exactly like Scarlett Johansson. I'm not kidding, that's what it tasted like. Or possibly it tasted like how she looks. Unfortunately I can't remember anything else about it, not even the whisky's name, or how it could possibly taste like that, or how I would know. Must have been a good one.

Many of you will know of my fondness for Lidl's finest Ben Bracken single malt. Lovely fresh vanilla cream notes, hint of lemon sherrrrbert, and it's about eighteen quid a bottle. Scuttlebutt has it that it's the last expression from the mothballed Tamnavulin distillery, but if that's true then I'm not sure where they're still getting the stuff from, since Tamnavulin reopened in 2007.

Vaguely related, today's find has been Aldi's finest, Glen Marnoch 12yo Highland single malt. There's no such place as Glen Marnoch and Internet is suspiciously silent on where this stuff came from. It's spent some time in a sherry cask, without question. Dry white pepper and old wizened cinnamon sticks on the nose. Packed full of fresh fruits—watermelon, guava, tropical fruit salad—citrus, and a warm welcoming sherry length to it. Nice long smoky finish with a little ethanol kick at the end. And the whole thing comes in at under twenty quid.

I'm starting to like Aldi. Their weinerschnitzel is good too.

gominokouhai: (Default)
2013-04-08 23:31
Entry tags:

Today's linkdump is short and so, so sweet

Today's link is obvious enough that it gets a linkdump all its own:

There will be more later, but right now I have a bottle of limited-edition, Ximenez finish, single-cask 1996 Ben Riach I've been saving for today.

Ding dong.

gominokouhai: (Khaaan!)
2013-04-03 03:12

In which there are, amongst other things, new narrative paradigms for the 21st century, and Muppets

It is now possible to have a mocap system that links directly (and accurately!), in realtime, to a fully realized 3D set. Both the motion-capture system and the set in which it is to be rendered are simultaneously available to a sufficiently skilled technician, who can manipulate elements of same as required while the motion-capture is still continuing, from a single laptop. This might not excite you in the way I've just described it, but what you must consider is the fact that we have these tools available. This in itself has potentially broad-reaching effects about the nature of storytelling in the 21st century. And, which is much more important, as a direct result, tonight was possibly the first time ever that the following phrase has been uttered, honestly and without irony, to an actor:

Don't worry. Stand still and I'll rotate the world around you.

Oh yeah baby. If there were ever a reason why I got myself into acting, it's this.

~

The Muppets do Bohemian Rhapsody. Presented without any further comment. I'm going to have terrible mosh neck when I wake up tomorrow, and it's entirely the fault of Dr Teeth and his Electric Mayhem. Okay, partially their fault and partially the fault of Penelope Spheeris.

(You should follow that last link; I'm giving you a no-honk guarantee.)

~

It transpires that I gots a smartphone app. Some of you should remember the pajh-inna-box of old. Now it has an app. This would be unsurprising in itself were it not for the fact that Googol Play allows user feedback comments, most of which are about how awesome I sound. There's one there from user Jessica Rabbit thus:

I own many, many tts voices but this is the best, yet! [...] this male, u.k. voice is the most natural sounding and also elegant & sophisticated! [...] I can listen to this imaginary Englishman throughout my day helping me with my appointments and such!

I suspect the real Jessica Rabbit would say LOL somewhat less, being a lady who knows what elegant and sophisticated actually means. If this were the real Jessica Rabbit commenting, none of you would see me for dust.

I'm not bad. I just sound that way.

gominokouhai: (Default)
2013-03-26 17:00

Linkdump 26-03-2013

gominokouhai: (Default)
2013-03-25 23:17
Entry tags:

Overheard in Edinburgh

The other day, [personal profile] stormsearch and I were walking past Castle Rock, where bunnies have been observed in the past, but recently there has been a dearth of such bunnies.

J: I came down here a few weeks ago, and we saw occasional bunnies, but there was no major rabbitsplosion. Of course, it's not even rabbit season.
I: DUCK SEASON!
J: You are making a cartoon reference.
I: Yes. Wait a minute. Say that again.
J: Cartoon reference?
I: No, before that.
J: Rabbit Season?
I: DUCK SEASON! See, it is actually impossible not to say that when you say that.

Go on, I dare you. Try it. Get someone to say rabbit season at you and try not to say duck season. Try it. It's impossible.

ObWabbitSeason, DuckTheathon.

gominokouhai: (Default)
2013-02-13 17:00

Linkdump 13-02-2013

gominokouhai: (Inspector Fuckup)
2013-02-13 00:26

Culinary genius redux

I promised I was going to make the chilli Vesper work and by Eris I've done it. On the third try. The first one didn't count, because I was using tequila. Tonight: success.

Did my research first, and turned up the useful factoid that you can buy quinine powder (although not, apparently, any more from the company linked from the Esquire article), which can be used to requinify Lillet back to a reasonable simulacrum of the 1953 recipe. This I have to try. But not today. Today is for habanero gin.

Yes, habaneros. I know I promised Scotch bonnets last time, but they're significantly harder to buy dried. Habaneros are basically exactly the same thing but from a different part of the world, and spelled differently. They have the same light zinginess and all the tropical fruit pineapple-mango-papaya freshness on the approach. They're also spicy as all fuck, so do not attempt the following unless you habitually gargle Tabasco for fun.

Turns out that the whole problem with buying them dried was completely pointless anyway, because doing it with dried chillies doesn't work. (That was the second failed attempt.) It worked perfectly well with the Arbol chillies in the tequila, but a Vesper requires more subtlety. Buy fresh. Hell, that means you could use Scotch bonnets after all. You can get them in Sainsburys now for cheap.

Utterly fuckin amazing habanero Vesper, I'm not even kidding this drink will eviscerate you with pleasure, you will literally BLEED to death AND YOU WILL THANK ME

  • Decant 300ml of gin into a glass container. Glass, because I dread even to speculate what this stuff would do to plastic.
    • I used Colonel Fox's gin, because the balance of flavours would go well with the fruitiness from the chillies, but frankly the chillies are powerful enough that you could use any old antifreeze as long as it's 40%ABV or more.
  • Chop two (fresh!) habaneros (or Scotch bonnets, like we discussed) into quarters and drop them in. Screw the bottle up tight.
  • Infuse for an hour. Give it a gentle shake half way through.
  • Since this drink requires preparation, you have adequate time to a) chill down your martini glass and b) ponder what it is you're about to do to yourself.
  • Seriously, NO MORE THAN AN HOUR. Strain out the chillies.
  • For the love of God, Mary, Jesus and all the little cherubim and seraphim, label the bottle with the gin in it. It still looks like water and when you wake up tomorrow you're going to be wanting some of that. You might also not be thinking particularly clearly. Preparation saves lives.
  • Showtime. Combine in a cocktail shaker:
    • two measures chillified gin;
    • one measure regular, unchillified, gin (no need to get crazy, now);
    • one measure vodka;
    • half a measure Lillet Blanc;
    • dash Peychauds bitters.
  • Top up with ice and shake like a motherfucker.
  • Double-strain into your suitably chilled martini glass.
  • Add a large, thin slice of lime peel. Lime, because it's got chilli in it; also, because I firmly believe that there is no single application of lemon that cannot be immediately, infinitely improved by the substitution of lime.[0]
  • Drink until you can't feel your nipples.
  • Don't even think about touching your dick until you've washed your hands twice.

Utterly fuckin amazing habanero Vesper, I'm not even kidding this drink will eviscerate you with pleasure, you will literally BLEED to death AND YOU WILL THANK ME

Yes, it's pink. It is so pink in fact that I have a new life goal: one day, I shall run a classy cocktail bar, and when a gaggle of irritating young women come in who've seen Sex And The City too many times[1] and think they're being sophisticated, I shall serve them one of these garnished with a cherry. It looks exactly like a Cosmo and then I shall laugh and laugh and laugh as they die. Remember, this cocktail started from Bond's recipe, to which I added chillies. This is a man's pink.

Also, it tastes bloody fantastic.

The photo above is photoshopped all to hell because I inadvertently shot it at ISO800; the choices were employing [personal profile] stormsearch for her 'shop expertise or making another one to take another picture of it. If I did that, I'd have to drink it, and there's only so much unadulterated joy that one can experience in a single evening.

While we were in 'shop, she clone-stamped out the rather obvious tandoori sauce stain that was visible on the counter. I wish cleaning the actual counter were that easy.

ObSafetyNote: chillies, so wear safety goggles. (Getting that wrong is a mistake you make exactly once in your life, and I have a permanent note on my medical record to say so.) Also, there is a mild-to-severe risk of botulism from using uncooked chillies: C. Botulinum lives in soil and reproduces anaerobically, so the gin won't kill it. I am still researching methods to alleviate this risk without boiling the chillies in vinegar, which works but makes them taste of vinegar. When I sort that out I'll let you know. Meantime, if I wake up paralyzed tomorrow morning, I want you all to know that it was totally worth it.

You may commence the statue-building now.

--

[0] The only possible exception to this otherwise infallible rule is the Cure For The Common Cold (Pat. Pending), and that's only because I haven't tried doing that with lime yet.

[1] i.e. once

gominokouhai: (Default)
2013-02-12 17:00

Linkdump 12-02-2013

gominokouhai: (Default)
2013-02-04 17:00

Linkdump 04-02-2013

gominokouhai: (Default)
2013-02-01 17:00

Linkdump 01-02-2013

gominokouhai: (Default)
2013-01-31 17:00

Linkdump 31-01-2013

gominokouhai: (Default)
2013-01-26 01:00

It's the Cuban-themed gangster hideout, COHIBA

Shitty day, followed by meeting up with [personal profile] stormsearch in a hurry so we can rush to the boot shop before they close and they can refuse to replace the stupid shitty boots they sold her instead of the awesome rockin boots they promised her in the shop the last time. I've had enough. I am in a mood that only spicèd chicken and tequila slammers will shift. Thus, 'twas off to the Mexican restaurant around the corner.

I may have still been in a mood during the ordering process. I was going to ask for some hotter hot sauces. I brush my teeth with that stuff. To his credit, the waiter brought me a bottle of hotter sauce: to my dismay, it was Tabasco. I revised my earlier boast. I brush my teeth with that stuff. The previous stuff is mouthwash. (I own a bottle of it, for [personal profile] stormsearch to use. That's my story and I'm sticking to it.)

Food was okay, although they fucked up the fajitas, which they also fucked up (differently) the last time we were in: my non-fajita item was amazing, however. And there were margaritas. First there were two individual margaritas, because a jug might be too much: then there was a jug as well. In the process, there was a chilli margarita, which was a nice idea poorly executed. A sprinkle of chilli flakes in the glass. Slight hint of warming edge on the finish. Insufficient, I say.

Suitably replete with spicèd chicken and other items, headed home, modulo a brief stop off at the supermarket for ice cubes, because the ice machine isn't working (I may have mentioned that I was having a bad day). For reasons it would be otiose, at best, to rehearse, I have a full bottle and a half of tequila. It is time to infuse dried Arbol chillies into the half bottle.

Based on previous schnappsfabrefaction experience, I was expecting the process to take a couple of days, maybe a week. Just to be sure, I tasted it after two hours and HOLY SHIT yeah okay, that's ready. (I may have been somewhat generous with the chillies.) Hence or otherwise:

Genius Chilli Margarita

  • Half a lime, rolled hard and squeezed, and drop the hull into the shaker
  • Shot + pony shot Fearsome Chilli Tequila
  • Shot + pony shot triple sec
  • Top up with ice
  • Shake like a bastard
  • Double-strain into chilled salt-rimmed margarita glass, or a martini glass if you're slumming it.

Immediately upon tasting it I ran through to [personal profile] stormsearch, who was inconveniently in the bathroom at the time, and demanded BUILD A STATUE TO ME RIGHT NOW. It is simply that good.

Next time: scotch bonnets. The flavour will work brilliantly with the tequila I'm using. I also have plans for a chilli-tequila Vesper, which may yet be utter genius, but I fear it might be the kind of thing that one tries just once.

(While I'm at it: Mexican food for Burns' Nicht. O wee sleekit tim'rous Speedy. Cohiba.)

(ETA: The chilli-tequila Vesper, thus sampled (I ran out of limes for the margaritas), is a work of absolute unadulterated genius. Next time: chilli gin, and half a dash of Peychauds.)

gominokouhai: (Default)
2013-01-22 21:01
Entry tags:

My Upgoer Five job description, and also my life description

Manage.

What? I defy anyone to claim that isn't totally valid.

Oh, all right.

I run a place where people pay me money to stay over night. The money goes to people in a bigger business in a big city, and I can use some of it to pay my people for the work that they do. I make sure that the rooms are clean, that the breakfast is made well, that the people who stay here can learn all they need to know about the city they're staying in, that enough people stay with us, and that enough money goes to the people who own the building. Sometimes I have problems making enough money, because the place I live is a city that has ups and downs, and the people in the bigger city who own the building don't always understand that. But I am most interested in making sure that the people who stay with us are happy, and that they will come and stay with us again.

I have to make sure that we don't spend too much money on stupid shit, but only on things we need. I also have to make sure that my people are doing what they are told to do. This bit is the hardest.

There are other things too.

(Created using the Up-goer Five Text Editor, using only the ten hundred most used words in the English language, according to some arbitrary corpus that isn't the one I would have picked had I been in charge of this bloody silly meme. Alas I don't get to be in charge of memes, only hotels.)

(Words I was not allowed to use: business, company, spreadsheet, and enantiodromian.)

gominokouhai: (Default)
2013-01-17 21:53
Entry tags:

On becoming upper-middle-class, part 6 of a series

The shirt I'm wearing has gone out at the elbows. That's okay, though, because I wear suits these days. Suit jackets cover up a multitude of sins.

I don't even have to iron any more. You can get away with being reasonably shabby as long as you own a suit while doing so.

~

Last night I was beset by terrible dreams about my time in Iraq. That time we were holed up in a massive stone cathedral when the Americans deployed their terrifying new petrification weapon on a bunch of insurgents. The screams. Being invalided home on a commercial airliner. It took me a good few hours after I woke up before I realized: hang on, I never actually served in Iraq. But it made for a very interesting morning at work. You weren't there, man, you couldn't know. You weren't there.

~

I currently have all the influenzas but I am in the process of defeating them with whisky, soup, a steak this thick, the Cure For The Common Cold (Pat. Pending), and more whisky. I have to be well again by 3pm tomorrow or my duty manager doesn't get to go home. And that would be bad.

gominokouhai: (Default)
2013-01-15 17:01

Linkdump 15-01-2013

gominokouhai: (Default)
2013-01-13 17:00

Linkdump 13-01-2013

gominokouhai: (Default)
2013-01-12 17:00

Linkdump 12-01-2013

gominokouhai: (Default)
2013-01-11 17:00

Linkdump 11-01-2013

gominokouhai: (Default)
2013-01-10 15:21

Iambic pentameter? But I hardly know 'er

As the demigoddesslike (and deipnosophistic) annajroberts draws to a close her epic deconstruction of a certain popular novel (which magnum opus begins here), it is time once again to turn to your regularly scheduled lamentations that E L James is, for some unfathomable reason, remotely successful.

annajroberts[twitter.com profile] ajrobertswrites
When you type SHA into Amazon's search engine the first predictive result is Shakespeare. The second is Shades of Grey.

annajroberts[twitter.com profile] ajrobertswrites
I suppose it could be worse. Could be the other way round, but talk about opposite ends of the talent spectrum.

annajroberts[twitter.com profile] ajrobertswrites
I wish Shakespeare HAD written Fifty Shades of Grey. It might have contained some actual dick jokes. And maybe they'd have killed themselves

pajh ‏‏[twitter.com profile] gominokouhai
@ajrobertswrites I foresee a project.

annajroberts [twitter.com profile] ajrobertswrites
@gominokouhai Ugh. Forget it. I've only just put one parody to bed and I only wrote that to get it off my chest.

pajh ‏‏[twitter.com profile] gominokouhai
@ajrobertswrites I'm just considrin the potential for proper rhetoric in the contract scene. I might do it if you won't.

annajroberts[twitter.com profile] ajrobertswrites
@gominokouhai Do it! I won't - I've had more than enough of those mewling, worthless assholes, with their sex contracts and crap BSDM.

pajh[twitter.com profile] gominokouhai
@ajrobertswrites I have four lines of stichomythia in iambic pentameter earworming me now. I may have to write this down to exorcize it.

You asked for it, you got it. (Okay, you didn't ask, but still. Nobody expressly forbade it.) I include the foregoing discussion as context, so you know who is to blame for the ensuing nonsense.

(A further disclaimer: no I've not read Fifty Shades of Grey. In fact I once had to discipline a staff member who I suspected of reading it. Turned out to be a false alarm. So having only read the parody version, and not having read Twilight either, I have no idea if this scene actually takes place, but I'm led to believe it does. So there.)

TEN AND TWOSCORE CHIAROSCUROES
Or, A Bardish Bawd for the Bored.

ACTUS SECUNDUS, Scaena Prima.

Chr. My lady, shall I tie thee up with ropes?
Ana. Yea, even with your cable ties withal.
Chr. O madam, wilt thou take it up the butt?
Ana. My lord, I never so had thought before.
Chr. Not e'en consider up the butt to take't?
Ana. Mayhap I shall consider it.
Chr.                           Dude, sweet.
Ana. But shall we speak not of emotional—
Chr.                           We'll not;
      For thou art but a paltry Mary Sue
      And I a ripoff vampire libertine.
      No more than this we are, no more;
      And poorly written are we both at that.
      No sooner would I tear off both my stones
      Than tarry long in such a perfect void.
      But use thee shall I for my carnal aims,
      For what this novel lacks in plot it shall
      Repay with dirty bits in purple prose.
      With organ perpendicular I'll search;[0]
      In pleasures horizontal shall I find
      My consolation for thy lack of mind.
        For surely there could be no woman dumber
        Than one who seeks to romance such a—
Ana.                           Bummer.
Chr. I seest what thou didst there.

There, now it's out of my brain. And possibly into yours... sorry about that. I started off with two couplets I had to get out of my head, and ended up with a full-blown sonnet: there is a lesson here, I'm sure, but I'm damned if I want to know what it is.

--

[0] Bad Quarto editions have probe here, but later editors bowdlerized it for the sake of their own sanity.