So I went to see The Assassin

It was pretty much exactly what I'd been told to expect - a slow film without that much plot but absolutely beautiful. Some of the indoor scenes reminded me of Peter Greenaway. Apparently the actor playing the assassin herself was down for one of the lead parts in Crouching Tiger Hidden Dragon, but her manager insisted that doing a Coke advert instead was a much better move.

This morning, though. A council truck has just driven up with a car on the back, lifted it into a parking space, and left. I have woken up in science fiction story, but I've read too many of these to know what's expected of me now. Should I be vomiting up food, putting it back into its packets and taking it to the shop to exchange it for money? Or when I get food will they give me extra money that I have to give to other people to persuade them to accept goods and services? Or is this by an author I haven't read?

If you don't see me again, it's because I daren't leave the house.

Oh, Pixies : one of the ads at the cinema was for some sort of boneheaded killing game-console franchise. It was soundtracked by a gentle piano version of Where Is My Mind. Presumably it's a comment either on the game or its players.
  • Current Location: Provan
  • Current Mood: worried
  • Current Music: Pixies. Where is my mind?
You're very welcome. I hope you enjoy it at least as much as I did.
A council truck has just driven up with a car on the back, lifted it into a parking space, and left.

"Sorry mate, impounded the wrong car. 'ere you go!"
I wish I could believe it was that simple. They'd just get the owner to pick it up at the yard.
Having said which, I did creep out to the shop and everything - grammar and semantics, the arrow of time, social expectations - seemed to be just as I remember it being. There's something I'm missing, obviously.
A friends car which had been stolen in Cambridge and was recovered... was returned in such a way after repairs*.

Grammar and suchlike are always a moveable feast in my world.

*indeed they replaced a previously broken wing mirror, but not the passenger seat floor pan panel which did go missing when the miscreants removed the CD auto-changer containing hard to replace Ozzy CDs...
So you think this might not be a major rearrangement of time and causality after all?

Well, I certainly hope you're right.
You do live in the same city as Charlie Stross. Just saying’.