drink tank solar is

8/3/2019 Drink Tank Solar Is

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2/13

Steve Jobs is dead. We knew it was going to happen, when you have pancreatic cancer, you dont make

a lot of five year plans. He managed 7. Good for him. The world of MacUsers went nuts, and its kinda under-

standable, he was the symbol of Apple and especially of things like the iPod, iPad and iMac. He was amazing at

making himself a part of a technology he didnt invent. Thats not a knock, though I know it sounds like one.

Jobs was one of the great evangelists of the Computer Age. He didnt invent much, though he did have a solid

understanding of what he worked with, especially the Macintosh back in the mid-1980s, but he could make you

believe, no, make you KNOW you needed whatever he was introducing. It was an amazing talent, and the single

best other example would have to be Adm. Grace Murray Hopper.

Grace Hopper worked on a number of committees and worked on a couple of very early electrome-chanical computers. She discovered a moth in a relay and joked that it was the first actual example of a com-

puter bug.

But she wasnt a great inventor. She is often noted as the Mother of COBOL, and she was on the com-

mittee to define the standard, but she wasnt the inventor. She did, however, speak about COBOL a lot, made

appearances around the world talking about the nanosecond and the like, and would talk about the use of

computers. She was an amazing evangelist, and many have attached significance to her that doesnt really be-

long, but her role as the one who got computers into the minds of people.

Jobs did that for the PC.

He got the Apple ][ into schools, which led people to kids growing up with the Apple brand as their

preference. He brought out the Macintosh and using brilliant marketing and one of the smartest give-away pro-grams ever, made it into the choice for designers and artists. He made it cool to own a computer, he attached a

significance to the Macintosh that has managed to stick with it even after Windows machines have caught up in

most of the areas that Macs were first pushed in. There are many great arts and design programs for windows,

some of them more powerful and easier to use than the ones for Macs, yet still Macs have the hold over those

realms. Go figure.

And TAFF has started! The race this time is between Jacq Moynahan out of Vegas, Kim Kofmel from

Texas (by way of Canada?) and the guy I nominated - Warren Buff! I would hope that all our gentle readers

would hop on and become members of The Warren Commission and get Buff to Eastercon next year! Hes a

good guy, and a damn fine wit. Hes also just evil enough to be entertaining! TAFF.org.uk has the ballot so that

you, yes YOU!, can go and vote for him!

OK, so whats this issue of The Drink Tank about? Solaris is the 52 Weeks film, weve got a piece of JohnThe Rock Coxons TAFF report, and the conclusion of Tarals article from last issue. And theres this, of course.

Im working on issue 300, which is a tough one. Im about 12 way through with the layout, but Ive still

got to write the bios and such, and do the index. Indexes are hard. It takes time. It should be ready right about

the time when issue 299 is complete.

So much to do!!!!!


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John Coxons TAFF Trip Report Chapter This One

10:00, 17/08/11 South Lake Tahoe, California

So, I could pretend Im writing this in South Lake Tahoe, with the sun shining down on me and the serene

tranquility of our motel (Super 8, not to be confused with Motel 6 or Lucky 7 or National 9 or whatever all the

others are seriously, why are there so many motel chains with numbers in the name, and why are all of them dif-ferent?!). Unfortunately, Im not. Im writing this, in fact, almost a full month after the events Im describing, whilst

sitting in a Starbucks in Peterborough (hey, its the closest to the US you can get over here!). I blame this, roundly

speaking, on Worldcon, for reasons which I will attempt to detail in my con report. However, since its officially

10am on the first day of Renovation, and since I am still not at the convention yet, I dont know anything about

that, and so I shall stop ruining the journalistic (and structural!) integrity of this TAFF report and start writing

about things that I would know about at this point.I flew out from Seattle on

the Monday morning at some un-

godly hour (10am counts as ungodly

right?). Janice Murray, who took me

around the Museum of Flight, hadvery kindly offered to give me a lift

to SeaTac airport, and so she picked

me up around 8am, for which I was

very glad. The reason I was very glad

was that we had originally arranged

for 8:30, but I had had a nightmare

that Id miss the flight, and had awo-

ken early as a result. Her spontane-

ous offer of arriving half an hour

early did a great deal to placate my

sleepy brain, so that was very much

a boon! We drove to the airport

and then she very kindly bought me

a coffee from Starbucks before

I went through security to board my flight, along with my ridiculously heavy rucksack (I put all my books and

fanzines in it, as my suitcase had nearly been over the limit flying Toronto to Seattle).

SeaTac airport is a bit odd (and, according to the Museum of Flight, about as far from downtown Seattle

as Heathrow is from Zone 1 London, although the fact you can catch the Tube to Heathrow from Kings Cross

kinda obscures that). It claims to have free Wi-Fi but Ive been twice now and Ive never managed to get any out

of them, despite the multiple unsecured networks that my iPhone told me were present. This is always a bit of a

pain, since airports are not naturally thrilling places and having the Internet would be great. However, on the Mon-day, it was even more of a pain than usual, since it was my mothers birthday and I wanted to call her via Skype

like I had done in the city earlier in the week. Fortunately, the 3G signal from AT&T was fairly strong (remind me

to rant about Americans and their mobile networks sorry, cellphone networks elsewhere in the report...), and

I was just about able to call on it. The lag was about five seconds, which made protracted conversation almost

impossible and shouting at each other the order of the day, but I was able to communicate my desire to wish her

a happy birthday successfully, which was the main thing.

The flight from Seattle to Sacramento was alright. I wasnt lucky enough to be sitting next to an empty

seat, like I was on the two flights between Toronto and Seattle, but my seatmates were quiet and the dude next to

the aisle let me go to the john without much complaining, so I had no grumbling to do. I believe I finished Cryo-


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burn on that flight, which marked the second Hugo nominee to crumble before my reading skillz. I enjoyed it a

great deal, actually, although if Id known it was part of an ongoing series I probably would have tried to locate the

first book, rather than starting at the end, as it were. But, more on the Hugo nominees elsewhere in the report

I think.

The best part of arriving in Sacramento airport was seeing the one, the only, Christopher J. Garcia. I know

I know youd think baggage claim would be the highlight, but youd be totally wrong! He got my suitcase wedged

into his car (I have no idea how, since there was no room whatsoever for massive suitcases anywhere in said car)

and we rode into the historic part of Sacramento. They have buildings that are really, really old there. Like, thirty-

six years old, or something! Arrival in Sacramento heralded us walking in a massive circle. Chris swore blind heknew exactly where we were going and where we were meeting Linda, but the massive circle kind of undermined

his authority on the matter, and so eventually we resorted to the miracle of the mobile telephone, but not before

we got vouchers for saltwater taffy.

So, I should explain something about the old part of Sacramento at this point. The important thing to note

is that 98% of the worlds total number of sweet shops are in the town. Seriously. Chris and I counted them, and

its definitely 98%. Well, even if I am lying, there are many, many sweet shops. After rendezvousing with Linda suc-

cessfully, we went into one, and purchased two bottles of a delightful beverage called Leninade, which is a must for

any thirsty communist. As a Briton, I count as a Communist in the USA (my father works for the NHS, Im practi-cally a member of the Communist

Party), and so I enjoyed it greatly

I even saved the bottle! Out of a

sense of monogamy, we didnt visit

any of the other sweet shops, not

even the one that we had vouchers

for. Were that dedicated.

We also visited a costume

shop. Top tip: if you want to have

the most fun youve ever had whilst

shopping for clothes, go shopping

with Chris and Linda as they rush

around a costume shop squeeing. Itsbrilliant. Chris found an old arcade

machine (one of the ones thats a

shooting range with 25 shots) and

exclaimed as to how much he loved

this one before proceeding to suck

at it on two separate occasions

which was also pretty fun. No idea

what the arcade machine was doing

in the middle of the 1920s gangster

section, but hey, it was just that kind

of place! We also had donuts. Fora sort of pre-lunch snack (this was

necessary, since I had not had break-

fast and had been walking around in

the sun and just generally felt like

putting calories in my belly would

be a good plan before I keeled over

from a mixture of hunger and an

English reaction to the sunshine).

Eventually, it became time for James


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Bacon to enter the story, and so he did, smiling and greeting me warmly and, I think, quite glad to hear an accen

that wasnt American. Its weird, but speaking as a Briton, whenever I go to the States, just hearing British and Irish

accents makes me smile. Its like theres an instant camaraderie between you, caused by some weird side-effect

of the Atlantic Ocean. Now, dont get me wrong, I love the American accent. I have visited the USA on previous

occasions, and Ive now finally visited Canada as well, and Im very fond of both of them. But theres something

about where youre from that creates a bond between two people in a foreign land, regardless of how epic a time

youre having. When its an old mate, well, it just throws everything into relief, somewhat.

After having met with James, I met Katrina Templeton for the first time, who you may know better as Kat

ster. Shes a Sacramento-based fan, so it makes sense to meet up with her when in Sacramento! We decided thawe needed food, and so we headed down some stairs next to a building that promised all-you-can-eat pizza fo

$7 (or something ridiculous), because were classy. The all-you-can-eat pizza came in three varieties: pepperon

meat and vegetable. The pasta next to it came in three varieties, too: red, green and yellow. The soda came in

brown, brown, brown, BRIGHT ORANGE or yellow. Gotta love USA food colouring, it is so much more vivid

than the colours that are legal to give to human beings in the UK! The red pasta was particularly yummy, and

the pizza was actually much better than it couldve been for the price we paid. Over dinner we asked Kat if she

wanted to run for TAFF, talked about board games, asked Kat if she wanted to run for TAFF, talked about comics

asked Kat if she wanted to run for TAFF, talked about beer, asked Kat if she wanted to run for TAFF, talked about

how stupid it is that Mountain Dew in Canada doesnt contain caffeine and asked Kat if she wanted to run fo

TAFF. Hey, you cant say I wasnt plugging the Fund when I was on my trip! I wouldve asked the other people eat-ing whether they wanted to run for TAFF, but given that James and Chris are previous delegates and Linda joined

Chris on his TAFF trip, that wouldve seemed a little disingenuous.

It became time to leave James and Kat to make their way forward on their own journeys. Linda went back

to her car, Chris and I piled into his, and we had a road trip to South Lake Tahoe, where the majority of this story

is allegedly set (although given we just passed the 1500 word mark I guess I had more to say about SeaTac and

Sacramento than I thought!). The drive down was pleasant, although the nature of TAFF is that you end up a lot

more tired than you thought you would be and, as such, I slept in the car until Chris stopped somewhere that sold

Mountain Dew. Then, unsurprisingly, I was a lot less sleepy, and we chatted animatedly about God knows what

until we reached the motel in South Lake Tahoe, checked in, got the Internet working (priorities are important

folks) and waited for Linda to arrive.

When she did arrive, we had a blast. I dont quite remember the order in which the evening happened, buwe definitely played Guillotine that night, which was immense fun. Whilst I am in Leicester I am a gamer, not an

SF fan, mainly due to the incredibly prone-to-schism university SF society looking less awesome than the incred

ibly prone-to-going-to-the-pub university gamesoc, aka the Leicester Sabres. As a result, I love playing card games

However, I had not played Guillotine before, despite it being a fairly popular card game. Although I got thrashed

in the first game by an all-conquering Chris, I gained enough knowledge that I managed to claw my way to a win

in the second game via some sneaky underhanded tactics (my hand was so ready for me to be a total dick, it wa

awesome).

As well as playing cool card games, we went to the hot tub and the pool. It turned out that the pool wa

pretty cold, though, so mostly the hot tub. I was busy reading John Scalzis The Last Colony, which was a very

good book, in between reading Mira Grants Feed on my iPhone (which I didnt feel like exposing to a hot tub

owing to it being expensive, and all).

The final thing we did that night was go out for dinner to a place called Fire + Ice, which is a Mongolian

barbecue restaurant in the town. Ive never done Mongolian barbecue before, because I rarely eat outside o

Peterborough and/or Leicester, and neither of those cities has one, but I am usually raring to try new stuff, so i

was all good. For those that dont know (I have no idea how many of you there might be, so Ill forgive you if you

skip to the next paragraph!), Mongolian barbecue consists of ingredients that you put in a bowl. You then get a

smaller bowl and fill it with a sauce, and then you take it to two crazy men with paddles who put it on some fire

til its ready for you to eat. You get to choose from a variety of meats, and vegetables, and stuff like kidney beans

and noodles and whatnot, and they bring rice and tortillas to your table for you to have with whatever it is you

concocted.


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The menu has some suggestions for things that are nice. My first was a noodle-based thing with steak

prawns (or shrimp, depending on your nationality) and sweet chilli sauce that was really very nice indeed. My

second was a chicken-based thingy with kidney beans and whatnot, which I was aiming to eat with the tortillas.

deliberately tried to emulate a fajita with that one, and it was awesome! The third one was interesting... the dude

got my sauce mixed up with the other guy standing around the fire, and so we decided we were gonna swap

dishes and I had the ingredients hed picked with my sauce, and he had my ingredients with his sauce. The guy

serving thought this was brilliant, and shouted delightedly to his manager that we were nuts. I dunno what the

other guy picked, but whatever it was, it was good!

Chris wanted to go gamble some money after wed eaten, and so we walked the block to Nevada in orderto visit Harrahs casino in South Lake Tahoe. Now, the border between California and Nevada used to be delin-

eated by a line on the ground, but the lines no longer there and the sign saying Nevada is hidden behind a tree

so the only signal that the state is different is the FOUR HUGE CASINOS that line the road. Harrahs is big, and

it has many, many flashing lights, and it had people gambling in it. Chris went to the roulette table and put chips

in different places until he didnt have any chips left. Some other men came and got lots and lots of chips and so

he was allowed to put them in many different places in stacks of five. As is probably evident from the whole of

this paragraph, I have no real clue as to how roulette actually works, but hey, people seemed to be enjoying it, and

there was a spinny wheel thing which kept me occupied just fine (ah, simple pleasures!).

The next morning was the day of going to Heidis. Heidis, Chris reliably informed us, was a mile away from the

hotel, and so we were going to drive. Everything was dandy until we pulled out of the hotels drive and realisedthan when Chris had said mile, what would have been more accurate was block and a half . We promptly chris-

tened a short walkable distance as a Garcia mile, and things were a Garcia mile or two away for the rest of the

trip. For instance, the Chinese place near Chris apartment is about a Garcia miles walk. I urge fandom to adopt

this as a great unit of measurement!

Heidis was pretty cool. There was Wi-Fi (with the password written on paper that looked at least ten

years old) and friendly people and what looked like a building decorated in the Netherlands. I had a burger patty

and over-medium eggs and hash browns and toast (which is my favourite American breakfast, right up there with

Eggs Benedict). Chris had something or other which he then followed up with what is apparently called a biscuit

and country gravy. As a Briton, I call bullshit. Biscuits are about, oooh, five centimetres in diameter and gravy

is made from gravy granules. Whatever he had, it was not in any way a biscuit and gravy. It looked more like a

scone that had gone soft covered in a thin custard, and I instantly decided I never, ever want to try it (which is anextremely rare reaction to any food, for me). It looked horrible. Still, Chris enjoyed it, so I guess thats the main

thing...

After Heidis we went to

Lake Tahoe, via a post office which

took far too long to find given that

we started from where it was, drove

around a bit and then eventually no-

ticed it was where wed set off from

in the first place. Whilst Chris and

Linda did other shoppingy things,I bought stamps and sent wave #1

of postcards. Its important to send

postcards to people, but I figured

since fandom was getting a trip re-

port out of me, I wouldnt send any

to fans, so dont be upset or hurt if

you didnt get one!

The drive to Tahoe was in-

teresting since it was all mountain

and cliff and no-safety-barrier-next-


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to-the-road. We parked the car and I got to fill in a form, which is one of my favourite things to do (theres

something satisfying about filling in all the boxes, alright?!). We put the form in an envelope with a $5 bill, tore of

a stub to put in the cars window and posted the envelope in a box, which apparently meant we were good for

parking. This reminds me to mention something in Seattle, before we went to the Elysian, we parked and there

was a parking meter which required the user to poke bills into a hole. So, if you were in parking spot #27, youd be

poking the bills into hole #27. And then in Tahoe, you had the system I just described. In Britain, I literally cannot

remember ever having seen a non-electronic parking meter. Here, you put coins into a machine that then spits

out a sticker which you put in your car window, letting the authorities know that you paid. We dont even have

the parking meters lining the pavement (or sidewalk) for on-street parking. Are there any manual parking metersin the UK? Id be curious to know, so please write me!

Tahoe was beautiful. I cant really write about how beautiful it was, so this journal entry is probably going

to be surrounded by a lot of photographs when I actually lay the report out. What I can tell you about is walking

in the extreme heat, 6000m above sea level, up a massive hill. Now, Im from a place called Peterborough, which

is in a place called East Anglia. East Anglia is, it will not surprise you to learn, in the East of England. The defining

features of this area of the world are threefold: its not very warm (except for a few weeks of summer), its at sea

level, and its entirely flat (great for arable farming!). As such, I am probably one of the least prepared people on

the planet for going up massive hills in extreme heats at large distances above sea level. On the way down the

massive hill, everything was fine because gravity was happy to help, and I figured I could buy drinking water at the

bottom. Whilst, at the bottom, I did manage to procure both two postcards and a bookmark, drinking water wasnot to be seen, and so Linda and I took the walk back up the huge mountain at a rather leisurely pace (especially

because Im clumsy and didnt want to be the first TAFF delegate to die by falling down a steep incline/thirst/ex-

haustion on his TAFF trip).

Fortunately, as you may have gathered, I survived without dying, which I greatly appreciated. On going back

to the hotel, we chilled out, and I finished the Scalzi book by the hot tub. Then, we all decided to go grab some

Mexican food, and so we headed to a chain restaurant whose name eludes me. Unfortunately for Linda it was

Tuesday, not Wednesday, and thus the cheap margaritas werent on, but I really like Mexican food so I thoroughly

enjoyed it! In the evening, we watched a film called OSS 117, which is a French parody of James Bond films. It

was decidedly odd, but it provided a catchphrase which Chris and I quoted to each other for the rest of my trip

and its probably odd enough that you should watch it, even if thats just so you understand just how odd it is.

That night we got to bed early because this morning, were off to Reno! (Well, not really, because Im inPeterborough, but remember, were maintaining the integrity and suspension of disbelief, here.) I am very, very

excited for Worldcon my first

American convention, my first

convention outside the UK and

my first Worldcon! I cannot

wait to see what its like, and

to see the sights. I must also

confess Im looking forward to

having a hotel room to myself

itll be nice to have a space to

call my own. I hadnt realised

how non-stop my trip would be

before I came out here, which

is absolutely fantastic, but itl

be a relief to have a little oasis

of calm that I can retreat to

Next stop: IHOP, and pancakes

(yum!). Stop after that: Reno

baby!


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We come to The Smurfs. Everybody

hates Smurfs, right? Why shouldnt we? Isnt their

happy little song in itself enough to inspire bloody

thoughts and black, brooding depression? Never

mind the words. Theres only one anyway

La la la la la laaah, la la la la laaaaaah! Smurf

again and again until your brain smurfs.

The funny thing is that I dont hate Smurfs.

Oh, its very fashionable to run the little blue bug-gers down. I knew one jackass who made a shtick

of it for years. It was the nearest thing to humour

he could think of, is my guess. Ive also seen a VW

van with blue and white smears painted on a bum-

per. When I asked the driver what it was, I was told

Smurfs. It was rather funny, at that.

Heres where public opinion is wrong. The

Smurfs that most of you saw were the animated

Hanna-Barbera cartoons on TV in the 80s. Even

those are not so bad as they might have been, sincethey are based on someone elses thinking rath-

er than the studios. Had Joe Barbera thought up

the Smurfs, they would no doubt solve mysteries

and have a comic talking dog. Nevertheless, the

TV Smurfs are adulterated. Rough corners have

been knocked off and characters added to make

the Smurfs more conventional.

The Smurfs I like are the actual Les Sch-

troumpfs from the Belgian comics by Peyo, a.k.a.

Pierre Culliford.

It isnt as though the two are drastically dif-ferent. There were small changes made in translat-

ing the books to animation, such as eating sarsa-

parilla leaves in Peyos books, but Smurfberries

on TV only a nitpicker would worry about them.

There was an addition of a few non-canonical char-

acters like Grandpa Smurf and Clockwork Smur-

fette (a wooden robot), but surprisingly few. And their name, of course. Smurf is the name given the little blue

gnomes in English only. The story goes that Peyo was speaking to a friend and momentarily forgot the French

word for salt, and just said schtroumpf instead. The friend thought this hilarious and began using the word

himself, until both of them were speaking fluent Schtroumpf. But it was quite a mouthful, and in English theSchtroumpfs have been cut down to a more manageable sound-bite.

What distinguished the Smurfs was the writing. Even watered down for television, the stories werent as

condescending or simplistic as much of kids TV is. Still, it goes without saying that the original comics were better

still.

One of the most interesting tells the origin of the Smurfette.

To start with, there is only one Smurfette, but originally there were none. But she was created by an evi

wizard to bedevil the Smurfs. He made her vain, petty, self-centered, shallow minded and demanding rather

the way all pretty girls were viewed in the male chauvinist world of not-actually-all-that-long-ago, when Peyo first

became a cartoonist.

Sure enough, Smurfette did spread trouble and dissension among the Smurfs. They acted the fool around


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It worked to the extent that Smurfette emerged from Papa Smurfs hut a much prettier figure. Her lanky

black hair had become wavy and blonde. She seemed to have had her nose bobbed as well. But, though her heart

was now in the right place, she still couldnt avoid causing jealousy and foolishness among the other Smurfs.

In the end, Smurfette ran away into the forest to live by herself and spare the village further trouble. In

the Hanna-Barbara version, it would be unthinkable that any real harm could come to the Smurfette. In Peyos

original version, though, there is no such guarantee. The forest was full of dangers, not the least of which was the

wizard who made her. Smurfette had no idea how to shelter herself, how to find food, or how to avoid being

eaten by a fox. For the good of all, she went into exile inspite of the risk to her own life.

Petty serious stuff for a kids story, Id say.

So, next time you think of putting down Smurfs, remember the Smurfette, dead under a bush somewhere

then joke about them.

But, as it happens, Peyo relented eventually. A few books later, Smurfette did return, and eventually settleddown in the village after all. There was still a lot of foolishness and inattentive Smurfs putting their foot in their

work, but everyone seems to have learned to live with it.

For better or worse, now theres a digitally animated movie.

I havent seen it yet, but from trailers I get the impression that it has some of the plot elements of the

Alvin and the Chipmunks movie. In both, strange little people turn up in the real world, totally flabbergasting

an uptight, regular-sort-of-guy who regards them mainly as a nuisance until, finally, they make friends and solve

their mutual problem with each others help... the only variation being whether the computers are animating

Chipmunks or Smurfs. The Chipmunks movie wasnt actually all that bad, truth be told. For what it was, it

made its point and guided us along a short stretch of Memory Lane that was pleasant enough. Inevitably, the

old Dave Seville numbers were updated to current tastes in plastic, formation-dancing boy-bands, but I was not

entirely put off. (But on no account must you subject yourself to the revolting Squeakquel, not even to see theChipettes.) How the Smurfs movie will measure up by comparison, I dont know. I can only hope its at least

mildly entertaining, because Im going to have to see it.

I never told you about my secret crush on the Smurfette, did I? She looked cute as a button in the trailers

Im not opening up any dams for her, though.

If there was one Disney movie I hated above all others, it was Pocahontas. I so despised Pocahontas

that I bought a used videotape, watched it once, and have never been tempted to look at it again. The thought

of it makes me want to scatter smallpox-infected blankets in an Indian village and trap small cuddly animals to

turn them into fur hats. In the original story told by Captain John Smith, we had a gripping story about the first

vulnerable English colonists struggling for a foothold in the New World, and their encounter with a powerful na-

tive civilization. The fate of both peoples hinges on the personal relationship between the English leader and a

13-year-old-daughter of the tribal chieftain. Think what Shakespeare could have done with it!

But what did Disney reduce these powerful issues to? The studio turned them into a dishonest mora

lesson about the White Mans greed for gold, and the Indian love of nature.

Hello? I call that racism.

As if the Elizabethan poet had no appreciation of nature! Any Restoration squire could tell you of the

beauty of his country garden. The grandeur of the Kings forest inspired awe in Sheriff and Robin Hood alike

Disney falsely grafted the sins of 20th century capitalism onto a thousand years of English History, producing

nothing better than an overworked clich. The Native American knew greed too, although he had not invented

cash yet. Nor was Powhattans village confederacy a tree-hugging group of do-gooders. It was a sophisticated

her, to get the Smurfettes attention, fought with each other, and disobeyed

Papa Smurf. The final straw came when one love-smitten Smurf allowed

himself to be talked into opening the floodgates of the dam, to show how

manly he was, and nearly washing away the entire village. Papa Smurf put

her on trial for reckless endangerment, but found that no jury would con-

vict! So the exasperated Papa Smurf took Smurfette in hand himself to try

and cure her of her penchant for mischief with his magic books.


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political structure carved out of the realpolitik of the Algonquian-speaking world at the expense other equally

expansionist-minded chieftains. What justification did Disney have to turn a potentially dramatic story full o

passion, conflicting loyalties and the struggle for survival in a strange new world into a sappy moral? The belief

that it made better box-office, apparently. It seems that decision was a mistaken one, as well.

And what was the moral, anyway? That gold is evil? I never heard of the Disney studio giving it away, or o

making a movie for any other reason than the desire for it. We white guys have been bad enough without giving

us even worse motives than we actually had.

In reality, nobody in John Smiths Virginia colony was looking for gold. The Virginia coast is almost the last

place it could be found, as well the English knew. The Appalachians arent known for gold mines, and the alluviaplains beneath them are good only for what the colonists really came for to farm. In other words, the English

wanted the land for exactly the same reason the Indians wanted it... to live on the bounty of nature.

As if the unspoiled beauty of broad flowing rivers and stately emerald forests wasnt pretty enough, stu

dio artists had to paint the New World landscape in ethereal pastels. The mere hills and valleys of Virginia must

have been a disappointment to the artists as well they added 10,000-foot waterfalls! Coloured lavender. And

whats a story about nature if you tell it just the way you find it? Who could love real animals? Best to make the

animals too cute to even think about thwacking them over the head, stripping their pelts off and cooking their

meat.

Perhaps the biggest lie is Pocahontas herself shes a looker and easy on the eyes, I concede. But how

did a natural supermodel come to live among the natives of the New World? Tall, willowy, long shining hair, hernails trimmed, not a smudge of dirt on her bare feet, nor any sign that she had ever any need of a dentist. Her

hair flows like a cataract of thick, black oil, and must have required hours of work daily to keep clean and brushed

Most Indian women wore their hair in pigtails for just that reason. Nor, oddly, does Pocahontas much resemble

a typical East Coast Woodlands Indian, who usually had noses a Roman Emperor would be proud of. If I had to

guess, Id say the exotic, slanted eyes and high cheek bones of Disneys Pocahontas was more likely Polynesian

Perhaps she washed up on the beach as an orphaned child?

That isnt all thats wrong with this Pocahontas. But I guess you just couldnt make an animated movie

for a family audience about a 13-year-old, topless girl, tattooed all over and covered in bear grease to keep awaythe blackflies and mosqui-

toes. Much less could Dis-

ney tell a story about howher canny old man outfoxed

the newcomers, and how he

made them ally themselves to

his suzerainty over the loca

tribes. Most likely that was

what the whole Pocahontas

story was about. Not White

Mans greed for Gold or the

Nobility of the First Nations

Not even John Smiths silly

romantic fib. Just politics.

We could try to give

this version of Pocahontas

back to the Indians, I sup-

pose... but theyd only give

it right back to us. Put it

in your pipe and smoke it

Walt!


11/13

Russia has a long tradition of science fiction. A very long tradition

stretching back almost as far as it does in the US and England. Some of the legends of the field have been Russian

authors, painters or filmmakers. Russian SF has a distinct flavor, one that is strongly informed by not only Com-munism, but also by the earlier regimes and Tsars, by revolutions, by Eastern Orthodox church and, especially, by

Literary writers who often crossed boundaries. Theres good stuff from Tolstoy and Nabakov that would qualify

as SF.

Russian SF film dates back a long way. While most of the silent masters of Soviet cinema were less inter

ested in subjects scientifictional, preferring realist or political narratives that kept them funded, many of the early

Melies films found some of their strongest audiences in Moscow and St. Petersburg. They were also the ones

who most pirated the various films of Melies and Edison, not to mention copying the camera technologies. Early

Russian cinema was often fantastical.

One of the finest of all the directors that Russia ever produced was Andrei Tarkovsky. The man had an

amazing eye and an even better sense of story and how it can flow through different paces and methods. Imme-

diately before filming Solaris, Tarkovsky made a film about 15th Century Icon painter Andrei Rublev. It was one of

the finest films of the 1960s for my money. After completing it, and a couple of other writing projects, he started

in on adapting Stanilaw Lems Solaris.

Lems novel Solaris was one of the biggest hits of Eastern European Science Fiction of the 1960s. It was an

amazing novel and it was translated first from Polish into Russian and French, and then from the French version

into English. Lem hated the version that was translated into English, perhaps going through a third language was

not the right way to go. There is a direct-from-Polish translation into ENglish that was made into an Audio Book

on Audible.com. I listened to a bit of it and it seemed pretty good.

Solaris is a story about communication, or more importantly, about the limits of communication. You can not

break away from the bounds of your species biological make-up to communicate with something that isnt of the

same make-up. Thats the big picture thing, the kind of thing that you pick up from a set of Cliff s Notes. Its notwhat I took away from either the novel (who I havent read in more than a decade) or the film. What I took away

from both is that the creation is as much of a product of the world as it is of the creator.

OK, youll have to stick around for that.

The film opens with languid nature images of a stream with moss and grass flowing in its waters. This is a

complete break with the concept of what Solaris is. While Tarkovsky loved using nature images in his films, often

in long, slow takes. Here, were shown all of this as a way of reminding us what Kris Kelvin will be leaving behind

when he goes up into Solaris orbit. The book doesnt start with Kelvin on Earth, but Tarkovsky, like any filmmaker

with great material to work from, realizes that theres more story to tell and a series of ways to tell the story

The changes were right to give us a better view into Kelvin, especially since after those shots of nature, and of

52 Weeks to Science Fict ion FIlm Literacy - Solaris


12/13

making a comment about working in the Soviet film system. They are examining the film within the film, looking

for whatever can be found that might be of importance. It is obvious that those viewing the film are of a different

opinion than of those who are in the film. They are the officials, the viewers are the audience. Its an interestingdichotomy.

This is followed by Kelvin burring his belongings. Ive heard folks say that this has to do with the abandon-

ment of all things traditional film, but I dont see it. It really just provides a brilliant segue between the natural and

the scientific.

Then comes another hugely important scene, portion of the film, again about ten minutes, where we see

Kelvin driving to Moscow. These were shot in Tokyo and it was amazing. The cinematography changes from black-

and-white to color a couple of times, features long runs through tunnels, and eventually an impressive series of

shots of a nighttime series of freeways. Some of it is a multiple exposure, making it seem like a highway network

in a Megaopolis. Its an amazing effect and one of the reasons that you should see Solaris on as big a screen as

possible.

Eventually Kelvin gets to the Space Station which is a decrepit, nearly derelict station. Every film in thelast forty years where weve encountered a space station in disarray has been influenced by the Solaris station

The art direction in Solaris is just about the best Ive ever seen. It is so realistic it feels right. Watching films like

Destination Moon and even 2001 give you one feeling, but to me, Solaris feels like what we will really get. 2001 is

what we hope for, and maybe what well get the first go-round, but not what will last, not what will be the reality

of much of our time in space.

THey even had a mainframe, which I believe was a BESM-6. It might have been another one, you dont see

a lot of it, but Im pretty sure it was a BESM.

Kelvin finds a station where everything has gone to hell, where Kelvins contact has died. They tell him not to

worry if he sees weird stuff, and Kelvin sees other people who arent the other researchers. It starts to get

strange for him, and Tarkovsky uses a fluid camera-style and a slow series of scenes and slow editing to increasethe oddness and ramp it up.

Oh yeah, and then Kelvin sees his dead wife. That wasnt expected.

Hari, Kelvins wife, is there, but she had killed herself more than a decade prior. Kelvin has to figureout

whats going on, and they eventually come to the realization that Solaris has taken notice of them, and that has

led to people coming to life. The station-peoples brainwaves are beamed to the planets surface and then their

visions are manifested as people on the ship, possibly made out of neutrinos. They figure that if theyre made of

neutrinos, they can kill them. Kelvin explains to Hari that she is not real and she tries to kill herself again, but as

if she had been on Riverworld, she is simply reformed, though incompletely.

Hari is the most important figure in the film. She is what makes them realize whats really going on. We

discover that she has the ultimate choice in the film: accept that she is a projection and go on or just end it all.

kids and of horses. Kelvin is also visiting his father, which will be the last time they

will see each other. Its kinda poignant. Starting with Kelvins last day on Earth was

a smart way to tell the story.

Henri Burton visits, bringing with him a filmed questioning of Burton

where he describes what he saw while over Solaris. He reported seeing a giant

child while flying his craft over the giant ocean that covers the entire planet. The

cameras didnt catch that, but there are those who argue that this was a hallucina-

tion that was guided.

This scene, lasting more than ten minutes, is so hugely important to theconcepts that Tarkovsky is presenting that it cant be over-looked. Here, Burton

is arguing that what he saw was real while the establishment was arguing that it

wasnt, relying on evidence and facts. Tarkovskys argument was that film was an

experience that is shared and can not be duplicated. Every viewer has an experi-

ence that can not be measured or duplicated or truly observed. It is a singular

experience. Viewing the interrogation is equal to the experience that those view-

ing Solaris. Its a great scene, slow and layered, and it feels like Tarkovsky is also


13/13

Of course, she had ended it all before, the real Hari, that is, and that is an important factor. She killed

herself, and the new Hari goes the same direction. Why? Because there is no other way to do it? Is this a hint

towards fate? Perhaps, but theres another possibility - that the only way to rid yourself of pain is to end it all, and

thats what happens more than once. Fascinating thoughts swirl there...

The planet, it turns out, is a living entity, and it thinks. After Hari has herself killed by the Solaris station

scientists, the Planet starts to change and islands appear. This gives Kelvin his decision, which makes me feel like

the entire idea of the film exists in this moment. Kelvin must either return to Earth, make the final report on the

planet, or go down to the islands that have formed and there he can live out his life with things that were his on

Earth. This choice is the pivot. Is the illusion the important thing, or the reality? Hari had her choice and chose areality which happened to be death.

The audience has this same choice to make every time they watch a film. Is the false reality of the film as

important as the real reality that exists outside the theatre? Solaris shows everyone what they want, or at least

what they have in their head, in much the same way that the filmmaker shows the audience what he has in his

head, which is a product of being a part of that audience at one point, of having the experience of the environment

Solaris is, in a way, a planetary filmmaker. It picks thoughts from the environment and puts it into action, creat

ing a visual representation. Its ex-

actly what a filmmaker does, and

when Kelvin chooses Solaris, it is

Tarkovsky saying that the world offilm is so much more impressive

than the reality of the world out-

side that theatre.

Solaris is pretty much a

film that uses contrasts to make

each point more cromulent. The

natural brushes against the scien-

tific. The real brushes against the

created. The lost against the found

Tarkovsky works with all sides, but

he shows us where the truth liesand where it came from.

One thing that doesnt get

over-looked is the music. Tarkovsky

worked with Eduard Artemyev to

create an amazing soundtrack that

started with a choral section by JS

Bach. That set the main theme, but

then Artemyev made some won-

derful electronic music, including a

theme for the planet Solaris that

was way ahead of most of what we

were getting in soundtracks at the

time. Science fiction film music had

always been on the cutting edge

but Artemyev was a part of the

Russian electronic movement to a

degree and it worked beautifully in

the score to Solaris.

Its a long flick, almost

three hours, but its also gorgeous

drink tank solar is

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